A little rumty-tum offering for Easter - by Helen Murray
The other day I was humming a little tune and I was thinking about Easter and I having a little conversation with God while writing in my journal. How's that for multi-tasking? Anyway, I wrote a little poem. If you add your own bit of humming, it can be a song.
All those of you who know lots about poetry, please forgive the lack of sophistication; I always had a soft spot for John Betjeman and his rumty-tum kind of poems and I don't think I ever grew out of it.
Still, clever or not, (and I think perhaps not) this is my Easter offering:
All those of you who know lots about poetry, please forgive the lack of sophistication; I always had a soft spot for John Betjeman and his rumty-tum kind of poems and I don't think I ever grew out of it.
Still, clever or not, (and I think perhaps not) this is my Easter offering:
You knew what it would take to save your people
To give us all a chance of being free
You knew how great the price that needed paying
You sent your Son to earth so we would see.
You came to us; you lived and died among us
But even then we would not bow the knee
Despite it all you never ceased to love us
How can I thank the God who died for me?
The story doesn’t end with Jesus dying
The story isn’t one of loss and pain
For you defeated all the powers of evil
When Jesus conquered death and rose again.
You are my love, the one who showed love to me
How can I give you all that's in my heart?
I know there is no way for me to tell you
I have no words at all to make a start.
For you are my beloved Friend and Saviour
Your love will never weaken, fail or cease
And when my days are done, my race is ended
Alive with you my joy will be complete.
Helen Murray lives in Derbyshire with her husband, two daughters and her mum.
Having spent time as a researcher, church worker and Hand Therapist, Helen is now a full time mum and writer, currently supposed to be working on her first novel.
As well as writing and reading, she drinks coffee, takes photographs, swims and has ninety three Aloe Vera plants at the last count. It's getting ridiculous.
Helen has two blogs: Are We Nearly There Yet? where she writes about life and faith, and Badger on the Roof where readers are treated to a blow by blow account of her novel-writing progress, or lack thereof. It's been a while since there was anything to report.
As well as writing and reading, she drinks coffee, takes photographs, swims and has ninety three Aloe Vera plants at the last count. It's getting ridiculous.
Helen has two blogs: Are We Nearly There Yet? where she writes about life and faith, and Badger on the Roof where readers are treated to a blow by blow account of her novel-writing progress, or lack thereof. It's been a while since there was anything to report.
You can also find her here:
Pinterest: @HelenMMurray
I really like this Helen, thank you. It's heartfelt. (I don't usually 'do' poetry - too sophisticated for me probably - but I thought I'd take a look cos I enjoy your writing, glad I did, I wasn't disappointed.) xx
ReplyDeleteSophisticated it's not! Thanks, Mandy. x
DeleteAs a fellow frequent writer of rumtytum poetry, I think this is great. So much rumtytum is written by people who think it's easy, but don't actually know how to make it go rumtytum properly, or which words really rhyme, and then the slip-ups distract from the subject of the poem itself. This, however, is masterful rumtytum that puts across a passionate message very skilfully.
ReplyDeleteThe only rhymes I'd want to fiddle with are the ones in the very last verse, but perhaps you had a poetical reason for wanting those rhymes to be a little weaker than the others? (And on the other hand, I thought it was wonderful when you rhymed living and loving, because sometimes a half-rhyme like that is just the right touch, and the rhyme scheme helps those two words to link more closely than they otherwise would, which is Good Poetry.)
Yes! You're quite right. The last verse was the hardest, definitely, and the one I am least satisfied with. I struggled to express the depth of emotion I felt and eventually settled for something that didn't quite do the trick. t had several last lines/third to last lines and none seemed quite right. I will continue to tinker.
DeleteThanks so much for your encouragement and suggestions - coming from you I am most encouraged. Possibly not enough to consider writing poetry regularly, mind you!
And a second look at your rhyme scheme shows me that you didn't actually "rhyme" living and loving, because they needn't have rhymed with the scheme. But because they're so close in sound, they had the effect of suggesting a half rhyme and making the second half of that verse more closely linked than the rest.
ReplyDeleteI'll stop going on now. Poetry fascinates me with the capability of words in the right order.
I don't think you should 'diss' yourself as a poet. As A(me) says, it's very hard to maintain a strong rhythm and get all the stresses in the right places, and you've done that here. You should get a musician to put a tune to it!
ReplyDeleteI was going to suggest Fiona Lloyd! Sue
DeleteOoh, thank you, thank you. Poetry is definitely not my thing but I do like trying out different ways of arranging words sometimes. This was definitely easier to write because I had a tune in my head, but not being a musician either I couldn't even begin to write it down!
DeleteThank you so much for being so encouraging. :-)
Mmm, there's a challenge...
DeleteI just want to say 'Wow!' Helen. That is so lovely. Somebody, please, somebody work out what tune this can go to so we can all sing it!
ReplyDeleteDoes the Londonderry Air fit it? Sue
DeleteYou lovely ladies. Thank you. :-)
DeleteTotally agree, I'd love to sing this.
DeleteI agree with Fran. You definitely shouldn't "diss yourself as a poet." This has a strong rhythmic feel to it and would make a great hymn. Another beautiful string to your creative bow, Helen! I especially love these lines: "I lay before your throne my breath, my heartbeat/ I give you back the life you died to save" as deeply meaningful for Easter. More please, my poetic friend! Xx ��
ReplyDeleteOh, Joy, you are lovely. I'm quite sure that, unlike yourself, I am not a poet, and this was me just having a little play with some words and a tune. Thank you so much for being so generous. :-)
DeleteYes, lovely and very lyrical, I can definitely see this being sung in a worship setting.
ReplyDeleteThank you Ros. :-)
DeleteThis is lovely, Helen. I particularly like the bit in the last verse about kneeling before God's footstool and filling my heart with beauty: it makes me want to shout "Yes, please!"
ReplyDeleteMe too! Yes, please, all day long.
DeleteThanks, Fiona.