Yesterdays big A2 picture and its little frames!

Good day my brothers and sisters. You can see above from the full picture at the top of this page all the smaller areas that my eyes were drawn to. The three things I see in the one above - and I wont go on about any of the others unless I distract you attention from what your subconscious mind wants to see - are:

1) Near the top left an man is sitting with his back to us. Can just see his head, shoulders and right arm.

2) Just below man to right is a monster emerging, fortunately its attention is not on us.

3) The crosses!


                       The Flower


               How fresh, O Lord, how sweet and clean
Are thy returns! ev`n as the flowers in spring;
             To which, besides their own demean.
The late-past frosts tributes of pleasure bring.
                                    Grief melts away
                                     Like snow in May,
               As if there were no such cold thing.  
               
               Who would have thought my shrivel`d heart
Could have recover`d greenesse? It was gone
                Quite under ground; as flowers depart
To see their mother-root, when they have blown;
                                  Where they together
                                  All the hard weather,
             Dead to the world, keep house unknown.


             These are thy wonders, Lord of power,
Killing and quick`ning, bringingdown to hell
                      and up to heaven in a houre;
making a chiming of a passing-bell.
                                 We say amisse,
                                 This or that is:
                Thy word is all, if we could spell.


                And now in age I bud again,
After so many deaths I live and write;
            I once more smell the dew and rain,
And relish versing: O my onely light,
                                    It cannot be
                                     That I am he
              On whom thy tempests fell all night.       


 The above verses were written by George Herbert 1593-1633


Of Welsh extraction (I too had a welsh grand parent) , he gave up his desire to be a courtier and was ordained to a small country parish. He is among the finest poets of the Church of England, of whose spirit and teaching he is an authentic representative.




                  ***************************************************************
So my brothers and sisters. Here today many will be celebrating their queens diamond jubilee, I shall be not taking part as my queen is the mother of my Lord Jesus. I will spend a bit of time thinking what it must of been like for her to see Jesus nailed to the cross.
O but the joy she must have felt to have seen her risen son.


I shall leave you now in the hope that you all have a good day. Those that want to celebrate their queen, will I hope have a joyful time. 
                                                                              Your brother Peter.