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Mum's published letters to the press (circa 1940-60) |
Poems
A ROSE IS BORNWhen the day is dry and the sun is hot,a restless breeze flirts with all she briefly touches, Very soon the evening comes, and her precarious life wistfully settles down to greet the approaching dusk with a soulful kiss. Blazing light fused with purple shadow weave in and out of clouds. The sun sinks fast to form the splendour of the night. Humid air - now hushed, hangs heavy with the fragrance of sleeping flowers, yet beneath its veneer of quiet repose lurks an explosion of life. Eagerly morning ascends to arouse quivering buds in their wake suddenly earth erupts. Behold, a rose is born. by Anne Lillian White |
ODE TO DEAR RITA The heart that bleeds and sheds a tear The silent grief when no one's near In proof of love that never dies Remembrance hurts amidst the sighs The silent night that brings the dawn Remember her yet, still we mourn, We see the things she held most dear Which only serve to bring her near We won’t forget the love she gave For she was gentle soft and brave We know she's with the King of Kings This knowledge consolation brings She has the peace, joy and love Shared with God's children up above She'll never shed another tear Or ever feel a moments fear She'll sing praises to our Lord and joint the rest in one accord If we can keep this thought in mind The peace of Jesus we will find BY MADGE A BRUNT |
THE CRITICAL PASSENGERSo here we are again, packed like sardines in a tin,Sitting, standing in a train - typical of the rat race we're in. And who do they think they are - those men in pinstriped trousers, You'd think they were VIP's clutching their brief cases. Opposite, there's a man with a searching look in his eye, He could be a plain clothed policeman or maybe a Russian spy. The person next to him has his head steeped in a book, When someone steps on the train, he takes a sneaky look. See that child over there yelling at his mother, She's obviously embarrassed, though pretends not to bother. And what’s the point of giving him gum, If I were her, I'd smack his bottom!.. That lady seems a real snob sitting over there, She thinks she's the cat's whiskers with her nose stuck in the air. Talking of noses, the man behind has a secret pick in vain, Cause I see his reflection through the window of the train. Now some foreigners have just come aboard making an awful din, All I hear is double Dutch - they should know - it's England they're in. What a nerve that young man's got with nicotine on his fingers, It's such a filthy habit not withstanding the smell always lingers! Look at that drunk slumped in his chair, making a dreadful snore, If the train goes any faster, he'll roll over on the floor. At last, this stop is mine - just can't wait to leave the train, It's been nothing but a headache and these people are a pain. I'm a good judge of character, and in all honesty, Not one single passenger quite measures up to me. by Anne White |
SPRINGEvery year has four seasons,Yet spring is my favourite for many a reasons, The month of spring brings hope and cheer, Long cherished memories become bright and clear, Tiny buds eagerly greet sun and rain, Things once dead are alive again, Past is the winter, the cold and the strife, Everything suddenly is bursting with life, Crocuses, daffodils spring up all around, Tiny insects appear on the ground, Winter's bare branches grow tender green leaves, Geese fly home from overseas, Hark! how the cuckoo sweetly sings, See how the swan spreads wide her wings, And the cockerel swells its breast and proudly crows, Yes, it's spring - spring, when everything grows!" by Nathan White |
My son's poems
FIREWORK DISPLAYI in a moment or two there will be a displayand the black sky will be filled with a brilliant array The first one goes off and emits a fountain Showers of sparks can be seen within The second ejects quite a powerful rocket which shoot up and twists into colourful sparks The third displays a dazzling wheel that spins in its socket which revolves and throws out a diversion of powerful flames A chrysanthemum then bursts in a sharp vibrant way and gives a most magnificent display A rocket explodes up and up into the air, then shoots out into a brilliant flare which explodes yet again into a parallax star field Sparks float down from the sky in their millions and each one before hitting the ground will quiver out and disappear without a sound By Daniel SP White |
AUTUMNAll the leaves drop off the treesEverywhere they float in the breeze They drop on the floor without a sound Some fall in the ponds all around They float about in any old way And then comes along harvest day On harvest day people bring food And everyone is in a good mood They all have some wine and celebrate and everyone hopes no one's late In Autumn there's a kind of breeze It’s a kind of breeze that makes one sneeze Some of the leaves are crispy brown There’re thousands of leaves around the town Autumn comes but once a year And when it comes it makes me cheer!. NATHAN WHITE (7 YEARS) |
BLACKBlack is a very dark colour.The sky is black at midnight. My brother and I have a black bag to put things in. We have a black uniform for school. The blackboard at my school is black. Blackberries are black when they are ripe. Mummy's gloves are silky black, and I have a black felt tip pen. My Daddy has nice shiny black hair. Daddy's music book is black. Mummy has a smart black handbag, and I have a black wallet. Inside mummy's helmet is black. We have some black cases. Blackbirds are black. NATHAN WHITE (5 years) |
ORANGEOrange is one of the brightest colour.I like oranges because they have lots of juice. Carrots are orange and are very long. Orange is a colour in the rainbow. Orange and red mixed together make peach. We have two orange toothbrushes in my bathroom. Mr. Juicy and Delmonte are orange and they are my favourite orange juice. By Nathan White 7 years |
TASTEWhen I eat some nasty chips,I hate them as much as apple pips. I like some cakes for tea, but not for Dad, only for me. I don't like marmite very much, I'd rather have some scotch eggs, not ducks. I also wouldn't dare eat beef stew. I know a cow will only say "moo moo". I like some apple pie now and then, I'll eat it before you count up to ten. I'll never touch mouldy blue cheese, I'd rather have some mash with peas. I like some milk with shredded wheat, but then again, I like to eat, creamy custard with some pud with strawberry but not with mud. DANIEL WHITE (7 years) |
COLOURWhite is the colour of the snowRed is the colour when apples grow Green is the colour of a fresh new lime Yellow is the colour of summertime Orange is the colour of smoky fire Black is the colour of an important tie Blue is the colour of the very bright sky In the summer you can smell the colourful roses and the green grass as well. By Nathan White (8 years) |
The WindmillOnce upon a time there stood on a hilla very old and quaint windmill. It would turn to the left and turn to the right What ever direction the wind would blow, So the sails would also ago. It would turn to the left, it would turn to the right, It turns round and round day and night. by Daniel White (9 years) |
BlindI would mostly miss the world around me,but not an old mouldy mushy pea. I also wouldn't know which is which, and think a toy was a ditch. I would also be frightened if I was lost, The value of me then would definitely cost. But then again I must be brave, because I'd be blind until my grave. All around would be just plain dark, I wouldn't even know where is the park. I'd just have to always stay awake, so I wouldn’t miss my tea and cake. Daniel White (9 years) |
TOUCHI like the touch of nice soft wool,but not a big old rusty tool. I like the touch of a Christmas log, and like the touch of a small furry dog. I like a nice swimming bath, so warm to touch. Then again I like to touch a trampoline with some bounce, cause I can jump in the air and really pounce! I'd like the touch of gold from hidden treasure, To touch all those jewels would give lots of pleasure. By Daniel White (7 years) |
SMELLSWhen I smell a nasty smellevery cell is going to tell that if they smell it any more They'll stand on a cliff then fall. Then when they've done that silly thing they won’t even speak a word or sing. They'll be angry enough to say: "you'll have to stop and you'll have to pay, cause we're standing no more of this, we're going to set you on a quiz First of all what's your very best smell? You'll have to tell us or you'll have to sell your nicest sweet or your nicest treat, we're sure we've smelt your smelly feet! so tell us, tell us, straight away, you're going to, gonna have to say: "I'm sorry I have done this thing Then you can carry on and sure do sing" ". Daniel White (8 years) |
COLOUR BLACKThe colour I chose was blackIt is like a dark winter You also use a blackboard that contrasts nice with white chalk Some people are black as well They sometimes have shiny black hair Some people have black jumpers and black biro pens with black crayons and black felt tip pens. At night there is a nice black sky. I really like the colour black and that's that. by Daniel White (8 Years) |
MEMy name is NathanI live in Chasetown I like animals My eyes are brown My friends are Paul and Stephen Bubb and I like school and lovely grubb My hobby is cricket and football When there's Lineker they always score! I like to go to Wales for my holiday but rather stay at home anyway My age is nine my hair is brown My best fruit is lime I'd like a crown A crown of gold and a crown of jewels made with special machines and special tools by NATHAN WHITE (7 years) |
FUN SNOWI saw snow on the groundIt snow and did not make a sound In a few hours everything looked white as it came down so beautiful and bright Everyone who saw it marvelled at the sight Softly, softly always falling to the land It makes adults feel very cold, but children very grand. Nathan White (8 years) |
HURRICANEHeavy seas that go rolling pastUnder waves that ride very fast Rioting seas and nothing can be found I wonder if the sea will ruin the land Curly waves that bring forward the sand And so it will make a very big crash Now it will make a very big splash Ending with a mighty big dash. by Daniel SP White (8 years) |
THE WINDThe wind is very forceful sometimes,Especially rushing through the streets. At the shop, it knocks down shelves of plums, and crushes loaves of bread into little crumbs. It sometimes blows off chimneys crashing on to roads, and soon becomes a hurricane, frightening poor old toads. Sometimes it knocks down plants and trees, It travels North, then West, then South, and trembles those old bees. So get out of sight from that nasty wind, Go down to Africa where it is warm. Get out of England for evermore, and watch the honey bees swarm. by DANIEL SP WHITE (7 years) |
BLUEMy mum likes blue - it is a very nice colourBluebells are blue and they grow in the forest My Dad has blue eyes Rivers and Lakes are blue So is the sky. When the sun shines blueberries turn blue and I like to eat them Blue tits are blue, they are very small birds We have a blue large van. Nathan White (7 years) |
THE STRONG GALEThe wind can be a very strong forcethat likes to steal hats The wind taps on windows and likes to scare cats. The wind that is aggressive is dangerous to men at sea "oh no not another crash" Down goes another tree When the sky is getting light The gale starts to clear All the mess left in its wake makes nobody want to cheer By Daniel SP White (10 years) |
SNOWI heard the wind blowAlong the streets there's lots of snow It makes the trees look dull and grey and makes us cold every day I like to see presents on the Christmas tree It makes us happy, but especially me. Nathan White (6 years) |
COLDWhen the cold comes I start to shiverMore and more I start to quiver When it is cold it starts to freeze Sometimes it rains and then there is ice A hot cup of tea is then very nice Snow can be fun to sledge and to ski But when there is fog I can't clearly see. By Daniel SP White (7 years) |
THE MEDIEVAL FARMERLife is sometimes such a strugglethat everything is toil and trouble People live by candle light and financially things are very tight Our country is always being invaded and our village community has quickly faded Every day I work on the farm the job is easy when the weather's calm Every day I plough the land and always toil by hand Today I scattered the seeds all around although the weather was bad I didn’t stop but still worked hard to get a good crop. By Daniel SP White (11 years) |
AUTUMN TIMEAutumn is the time of the yearwhen the grass is drier and the sheep grow fur Berries and nuts grow on the trees and little creatures seek after these Many leaves fall to the ground Falling gently all around until they crunch right under your feet which grinds into the ground like wheat Squirrels look for a place to sleep They store food in a hidden heap Autumn has such golden days In so many different colourful ways. By Daniel White (10 years) |
THE WINDMILL GIVES US WHEATThe windmill gives us wheat to eatWe have it in our breakfast - Shredded Wheat It makes lots of flour every hour It's very strong with lots of power The windmill gives us wheat to eat We have it in our breakfast Shredded Wheat The windmill goes round and round and makes a loud creaking sound. By Nathan White (9 years) |
THE RISEN CHRIST (POEM/SONG) How can I sing of the love in my heart That is filled with your goodness to me Your mercy and grace reached the whole human race When you died on that old rugged tree How your blood was shed to cleanse us from sin which you gave as a free gift of life All around though you dead even kith and kin Till you proved and came back as Christ Deep in my mind I see grief stricken tears Mary's eyes then revealed her true pain Then she looked in the tomb, which confirmed all her fears knowing he had not risen again Then a man spoke to her Who she thought tilled the ground, and he asked "why oh why do you cry, do you cry"? She replied they have taken my Jesus away Then he turned and said "Mary - ‘tis I"" WORDS BY MADGE BRUNT, MUSIC BY PETER WHITE |
THE RIGHTEOUS CHRISTIANI am not a sinner, I heard a friend once sayI pray to God quite often and when I pray I say, I'm glad I'm not a sinner as other people are I'm generous without fault, the very best by far I'm pleasant to my friends, and do my best to please and let them know how good I am to put their mind at ease I always keep a secret and never tell a soul nor ever tell a lie to get out of a hole I know I'll go to heaven, I'm such a helpful person and all the marvellous works I do just strengthen my conversion I always pray for others, please let them be good like me" and when my prayers aren't answered, I stay away and let them be I give unto the hungry and help all the good Lord sends and after seeing to their needs, make sure they tell their friends I've heard of persecution, I don’t know what this means. Why should I be persecuted, when I do my best to please? I'm such a pleasant person, I never tell a lie. I know there is a place for me if I should ever die I won't talk to sinners since I might be led astray I'm sure I've found the right path and go merrily in my way I keep away from sinners and smokers make me heave They'll never go to heaven, that's what I believe, I keep away from addicts, those that take the drugs They are way past redemption, and nothing less than thugs I always say they deserve just what they get! I was never like that - you just ask the ones I've met They see me as a good one, a soul who's set apart but then I didn't know the God I know could see into their heart I'd never heard the story of the thief upon the tree who uttered words to Jesus "in your kingdom remember me" and Jesus answered, knowing his blood would pay the price "Today you will be with me in paradise" so, repentance is the answer to all that think they're good The heart is so deceitful and needs his cleansing blood BY MADGE BRUNT (MOTHERLY) |
A WORD OF ENCOURAGEMENTWhen you’re due for treatmentand doubts beset your mind just ask the Lord to give you faith The everlasting kind His love will never fail you Your life is in his hands Everything's in His control and works by his command so doubt your doubts in future just keep your mind on him and every trial before you with God you'll always win. Another test of faith will take you on his way. You'll come through just as before with strengthened faith, I pray. God’s angels will protect you with comfort from above. You will feel the Holy Spirit's might encouraged through God's love. BY MADGE BRUNT |
OUR FATHER'S LOVEHe loves you when you’re weakHe loves you when you’re strong He loves you when your right He loves you when you’re wrong He loves you when you’re happy He loves you when you’re sad so always in the future, remember He's your Dad. BY MADGE BRUNT |
THE GARDENI envied someone's garden and compared it to my own.Theirs was filled with coloured flowers - mine was overgrown. Lots of weed and stinging nettles, unrelenting thorns scattered over dry parched land, where once was rich green lawns. I couldn't see the beauty without a flower in sight Then God revealed a truth to me one dark and silent night. It happened in the winter time - I awoke early in the morn, and when I saw the snow, the truth began to dawn. I looked in all the gardens, and all were white and bright, then a message came to me "all are equal in his sight" It was He who made the weeds, the thorns and all the rest. Everything that ever grew was by his own request. So when you see a garden and compare it with next door, soon winter comes and brings the snow, The Lord reveals it all. Everything created, the ugly and the fair, are always equal in his sight, and beautiful and rare. BY MADGE BRUNT |
HE SAVED MEI belong to the Jesus army, I know Jesus saved me,and as the sweet Lord drew me near, he saved me from all sin and fear. He saved me from hell's disaster. It's eternal life I'm after. He lifted me to heaven in his loving arms, and I saw the Lord the Lord with all his holy charms. I saw his happy eyes smiling at me, as I travelled on to victory. Like the wings of a dove, He covered me with his love. I was happy to be in heaven with my God, for thou art with me my staff and my rod. I shall eat from the tree of life with no more tears or strife. I shall be so happy and I will sing the Lord's praises and Hallelujah’s to my King POEM BY JANET GREEN (24TH AUGUST 1990) |
REALITYWhat purpose is spirituality,if in our lives there is no reality. A friend in need is a friend indeed, but we're too busy to ever take heed. We ignore the lonely who long for a friend, someone to support them and help them mend They seek God's love in the face of you and me (often in vain) for some reality but ego reigns with its self important image. It feels so right and good therefore we think we should. Proud words are spoken from a heart that’s closed tight, yet there's little room for compassion in sight. He said love others, but we prefer to impress. It's all in the game of being our Christian best. Power and status is what we're aiming for, yet, patiently Jesus still knocks at our door. He's no respecter of persons, and just wants us to be true. Have you ever thought what reality means to you? BY ANNE LILLIAN WHITE |
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Introduction: (Mum had eight children. There would have been 10, but sadly her twins died during a difficult pregnancy). After a typical long day as a cleaner at the local Birmingham hospital, Mum lay thoroughly exhausted and fast asleep in her bed when suddenly at three o clock in the early hours of the morning, she abruptly awoke to find a series of strange words rushing through her head with no deliberation on her part. Perplexed and unable to contain such thoughts she felt utterly compelled to write them down. Still dazed from the abrupt arousal of her sleep, she reached to her bedside for a pen and paper, then scribbling as fast as she could to keep up with words that bombard her, recorded the following:- EXODUS FINALEListen my friends, to a story I unfold, an event that may well be, if man strives for universal peace, from fear we shall all be free.Since the big blast, he is all alone, The innocent and guilty to eternity have gone. Radiation, Strontium 90, Her ashes and red sky - He is reaping the havoc he helped to sow, soon too now he must die. See the huge mushroom in its obscene might, had made mock of the sun and changed day into night. "What is it that roams like a bull at the stead?" "Tis the travail of the living sea- In a womb of a planet that to death has bled" The writing on the wall - there's none because the wall itself has gone. There kneels he with downcast eye - the sole survivor of the bomb. The weapon that would secure peace has caused all living things to cease. He waits alone, his own end to come! "Armaments for peace" The warmongers cry. Alas! Twas the bombs of death that came raining from the sky. "Armaments for peace!" Loud was the call, he didn't heed the dangers signs on the wall. There'll be no more war from now on, because the world itself has gone! Now stars look down on a planet that's dark - a sphere once bright and as far, their whispers echo through time and space "what fools these humans are!" BY ANNIE GREEN - SEPTEMBER 1967 (OUR BELOVED MUM) |
LOSS OR GAIN?The war has just startedALL And it seems there’s no end to it all The old and the young are taken At the sound of the old trumpet call Why do the innocent suffer When the guilty seem to go free Who started this war in the first place? Certainly not you and me Why do the dictators cause havoc? And carry a heart full of led Boasting "we're gaining the victory" When all around people lie dead and killing one man is a bore. but we've plenty more weapons in store We want to try out our new rockets, Not to mention our numerous devices The profits, the cake, that’s left over We aim to take a few slices Though it means heart break for millions Young boys at war in their teens Who'd rather be at home with their mates messing with bikes in new jeans They've all been prepared for combat, with war games impressed on their minds Now it’s for real, a sign of the times Blood shed and fears take over Many lie wounded and dead Families’ hearts beating faster are afraid of the news being read Dramatic foreboding newscasters, ensuring no one misses out of the terrors and foretold disasters, informing what war's all about. Politicians giving diverse points of viewpoints saying what ought to be done. Better ask him in the desert, standing face to face. He wouldn’t have chosen this pathway He sought not to kill or maim. Now he sees death and destruction, and's the one who lives with the shame. Not dictators, politicians, nor governors who stay at home and sit still but the man in the street who is somebody's son and who happens to fit the bill. POEM BY MADGE BRUNT |
THE END TIMESThe earth and moon go on spinning,The sun is hot and continues burning People live but keep on dying, the truth speaks out but still there's lying People live but keep on dying A motherless child is sad and crying People stare yet not pitying, The prophets call but no one hears The angels cry six trillion tears Hungry people beg for bread another face is fat and fed The desert is dry and thirsts for rain There's so much hurt and so much pain Floods come in and drown the land A nurse holds a dying man's hand A tramp walks a stony cold street with no where to lay his head not feet. Wheels of life keep on grinding Sands of time keep eroding Someone's lost and someone's searching. The shepherd of love continues knocking The soap box man keeps on preaching Cynics scoff and keep on mocking Laws of life they are flouting still, stones of silence keep on shouting Empty words in vain are spoken, a promise made tomorrow is broken. A time for war a time for peace Soon what is sown must be reaped, Yet, the earth and moon keep on spinning, and the sun continues burning All the time creation is groaning for new life, a new beginning. Fingers write upon the wall, Celestial stars begin to fall Rocks and mountains start to crumble The wicked run to hide but stumble. The universe is badly shaken. The children of light are suddenly taken Lightening strikes across the sky. The son of man appears on high BY ANNE LILLIAN WHITE - 1995 |
Euthanasia"This patient is too ill" experts say,finish them now - they're passed their day with a remedy, efficient and quick just remove the intravenous drip" pausing, whilst conscious ponders, still but logic screams this patient is terminally ill! "Our resolve must be to hasten their end since what's the point in helping them mend not withstanding a waist of space would only overflow this pitiful place?" Hence, the evil thing is done the intravenous drip has gone Helpless, the victim stairs into space sensing a fate so cruelly sealed The drip now removed, the truth revealed yet not an end where suffering is no more nor a life contested before death's door only an endless wait, lying helpless and still unable to communicate their thoughts at will yet, within, comes an silent cry to stay alive - " please don't let me die" abandoned, forsaken, the patient feels pain. like a lamb to the slaughter, the victim is slain, the evil deed is done - the intravenous drip has gone. Weep with me all who love humanity, for this has happened to someone's son and someone's daughter, Anne White copyright The undergroundArrived at the stationThe last one's just gone Oh well, just have to wait for another one A dingy old train, just about holding together They've been like this for years, nothings been done. After much standing round (its not worth sitting down) Another, trundles its way coming through the town After getting on board, aching are my feet, There's hardly enough room much less a spare seat. Just then its starts moving, pacing its way The grinding and creaking is here to stay Just when we were moving at the fastest it can go it naturally break downs, the train starts to slow After an hour of waiting in the hot humid air It starts moving again, this is hardly fair The next stop is mine, At last I'll get off This miserable train I now have a cough By Daniel SP White copyright Ode to the undergroundI sat down near the platform,the train was running late How much longer I wondered would I have to wait? Finally the train arrived after a twenty minute delay. "About time too" I grumbled, considering the amount I had to pay" I climbed aboard whilst pondering Why does this train look so old? The train was worn out and dirty the doors were covered with mould. The train was spluttering and creaking as if it were in pain I thought it might abruptly halt and never work again. The speed is exhilarating, that's if you are a snail We were moving at such a slow pace, surely nothing could fail.. But suddenly the train stopped moving you guessed it, another delay Apparently, there'd been a signal error, Ten minutes later, we were on our way. I noticed an elderly fellow who I then stood beside. He looked very relaxed, Obviously enjoying the ride "What do you think of this service, (I put to the wise old man) what with lack of space and speed - We'd move faster in a traffic jam" "Now listen here, young man" he said frowning with dismay "that's the way they made em" "I wouldn't want it any other way" "They were like this when I was young and the speed is just about right - if it went any faster, I think I'd die of fright!" " The view is sometimes splendid, just like being on 'oliday "Yep - that the way they made em, and that's the way, they'll stay" By Nathan SP White Copyright Turn the tideOh Lord, please be at my side,Stay with me, I cried, Oh Lord, in thee do I abide, Lord, turn back the tide, So on the tide I can ride, with you on the wings of the storm, from night till morn. Till all my troubles have blown away, Till the dear Lord has turned on me, his golden light of heavenly ray, streaming from heaven above, giving me all His love. By Janet Joyce Green Copyright |