(in response to a talk series by James Patrick on eschatology and the anointing of the Holy Spirit on April 20th 2020)
“If England is a port harbour Teeth are implants and the wharf is a pit of decay The putting on of the shirt is nakedness Three lions in the place of cowardice A national zoo where caged birds hold their song back. Because the mane of the lion is shaved Silent presenters on the match on Sunday Yours truly, a striker ready to burn Our bones are the harvest of the river And our skeleton is a skyscraper trolley
Let us rack up a porcelain plate and on top ceramic seraphim. Shattering collected Crockery ships in layers as the spinal kitchen sink receives greased poker chips. rattle-some comes a whisper of wheels. And we slide back into the crack our stack or the sack.
And our skeleton is a skyscraper when we surrender
And our skeleton is a skyscraper when we surrender
Our skeleton is a skyscraper trolley.
Publicity of majesty is the word A dove is coming So Return to the mercy seat you prostitutes.In my lifetime and likely yours days slip through our fingers as we play on the tyre swing.What is done there will be here the same thing And strength is laid waste Sausage spaniel strays are runaways Us dogs are barking up the wrong tree As sails are flags without wind Let us show our wonder for propitiation.
Our skeleton is a skyscraper when we surrender
Our skeleton is a skyscraper when we surrender
Our skeleton is a skyscraper trolley
Let your Knees buckle to the Shepard king and rise up on glory threads harvesting joyful praise. Wide open are his eyes of fire and under our lips as the surface of a kiss. Knights are favoured before him. Long have I searched but searched have I been. My arms are the gates of thanksgiving.
Don’t look back Don’t look back
Thank you for the lord For the lord we thank you
Thank you for the lord For the lord we thank you
Thank you for the lord For the lord we thank you”
written by Elliot C Vanderhyde
Oxford Is My Home 