Book Week 2009 at the school where I work was once again alive with book character dressing up days, favourite book videos and an air of enjoyment by teachers and pupils alike. I dared to take part in the poetry readings meeting, albeit sticking to a relatively "safe" poem - no pupil likes to see a teacher cry after all!
The Peace of 6 a.m. on a Sunday
The peace of 6 a.m. on a Sunday.
A bird is singing in the trees.
It’s his wake up call to one and all,
He says “Join me if you please”
Join me in this new day,
But there is no work to be done,
Because Sunday’s here, it’s a day to revere
Let’s praise the Lord it’s come.
I shall sing here from the tree tops,
I shall sing here all day long.
For I love the peace of a Sunday,
But it’s the morning that fuels my song
It’s at 6 a.m. on a Sunday
That I choose to start my song.
The rest of the day other sounds start to play
So in the peace is where I belong.
My song sings out in the silence,
For nothing else do I hear.
Wake up now, it’s time to get up
With my song I draw you near.
Wake up from your sleepy slumber.
Cast the dreams aside for reality,
But if you cannot yet bear to be aware
Then relax and listen to me.
The peace of 6 a.m. on a Sunday,
There’s a shrill sound in the trees.
I thank the Lord for putting him there,
The bird wakes me up with ease.
I turn over under my duvet,
I curl up in a ball.
There’s a warmth in there from which I choose not to tear,
But I thank God for that bird so small.
Copyright EH 2008. All Rights reserved.
The Peace of 6 a.m. on a Sunday
The peace of 6 a.m. on a Sunday.
A bird is singing in the trees.
It’s his wake up call to one and all,
He says “Join me if you please”
Join me in this new day,
But there is no work to be done,
Because Sunday’s here, it’s a day to revere
Let’s praise the Lord it’s come.
I shall sing here from the tree tops,
I shall sing here all day long.
For I love the peace of a Sunday,
But it’s the morning that fuels my song
It’s at 6 a.m. on a Sunday
That I choose to start my song.
The rest of the day other sounds start to play
So in the peace is where I belong.
My song sings out in the silence,
For nothing else do I hear.
Wake up now, it’s time to get up
With my song I draw you near.
Wake up from your sleepy slumber.
Cast the dreams aside for reality,
But if you cannot yet bear to be aware
Then relax and listen to me.
The peace of 6 a.m. on a Sunday,
There’s a shrill sound in the trees.
I thank the Lord for putting him there,
The bird wakes me up with ease.
I turn over under my duvet,
I curl up in a ball.
There’s a warmth in there from which I choose not to tear,
But I thank God for that bird so small.
Copyright EH 2008. All Rights reserved.
