A Raconteur Girl Production

Posts tagged “Resurrection


Lilacs for Lucy


Resting Under Lilacs Collage


Lilacs for Lucy



Lilacs for Lucy

Blooming so delicately

Nanna didn’t want flowers

Who wants flowers

When you can have a whole tree?


A bouquet may be lovely

But as soon as its cut – it’s dying

A tree is the opposite

Growing, breathing

Part of creation, thriving


So it’s Lilacs for Lucy

It’s a tree for my Nanna

A tree for your Mum

A tree for your Friend

A tree for your Great Grandmother


When I think of Nanna

I picture a garden home

Messy, rambling, beautiful

Where veggies are planted next to flowers

And where wild nasturtiums roam


Green through and through

From her thumbs to her toes

Like a Hobbit from Derbyshire

It seemed to me

Things grow wherever Nanna goes


Walking in her garden I hear a canary whistle

Then break into trilling song

I hear the soft shuffle of quails

And the flutter of finches

Chirping and dancing along


I see Nanna sitting by a fire

Lost in knit and pearl

Her needles click clacking away

She’s making warm woollen socks

For some lucky little girl


Other times I see her wearing black rimmed glasses

Engrossed in a riveting tale

A cup of tea poured

But then forgotten

Growing cold on the table


Will I see Nanna again?

Sitting peaceful by her fire once more?

Yes, I know I will

But in the meantime I have my memories

And the stories passed down from days of yore


(Ok, so maybe I exaggerate

They’re not exactly days of Yore

More like days of yesteryear.

No? Still insulting? Ok, sorry. I’ll be more specific:

The days of Mom, Uncle Tom, Uncle Mike and Uncle George

😉  )


I remember being fascinated by Nanna’s teapots

She collected so many over the decades

She set them out amongst a myriad other memorabilia

Those dusty shelves crowded

In a wrong, but somehow so right, random, bohemian display


I remember brown boxes of Cadbury Chocolate

Factory cast offs Nanna had bought

I remember those jars of colourful Boiled Sweets

Those packets of English Toffees

And those bags of Liquorice All Sorts


It was Nanna who introduced me to the art of shopping

She took me to “vintage” stores galore

While Nanna searched for second hand trinkets

I discovered clothes and shoes and hats

Eclectic styles from years past, to mix and match, and explore


I close my eyes and hear Nanna’s soft English accent

It coloured every word she would say

Her kind and mild way of speaking

“Dook” she would call me

In that unique Derbyshire way


I remember constantly asking Nanna: “How old are you?”

And to my consternation and grief

She’d always reply with a twinkle:

“I’m as old as my tongue

And a little bit older than my teeth”


But there were times that Nanna was not so gentle

Like when she had pruning shears in hand

I remember her ruthlessly attacking

A defenceless bush in our front yard

Hacking away until only a stump was left to stand


Then there was the way she played scrabble

How competitive she would get!

Like she’d swallowed a dictionary

She’d thrash you soundly on triple word scores

And then off she’d go to bed


I remember Mom once laughed relating

About the time Nanna had a hankering to buy some Llamas

“You have a big back yard Jean” she said “there’s plenty of room”

I don’t know why Mom said no, it really could’ve been a thing

Lucy and Jean – Kingston’s suburban Llama farmers


Then there was the time Nanna got her ears pierced

Long dangly hooked earrings and all!

I remember being so impressed

Whoever had such a Nanna?

It was just way too cool!


There are so many memories:

Nanna’s false teeth grossing me out, sitting in a glass

How she called Mick “Mickey” on the first day they met

Her gentle smile, her hair when it was black

Nanna teaching me how to play draughts


But mostly it’s a feeling I remember

No matter where I’d roam

No matter where I’d go

Nanna was the place

The place that meant home


Memories are a gift

Something no one can take away

They grow richer in the face of sorrow

They grow more precious

They become history that defeats the grave


I am grateful that I have these memories

Though right now my eyes tear and mist

I miss Nanna

And I’ll miss her for a while

For now, my Nanna’s gone to rest


But I know one day soon Nanna will awake

On that day she’ll be vibrant and strong

She’ll once again plant beautiful, messy, rambling gardens

She’ll get to be that Llama farmer

And she’ll listen as her Canary sings a happy welcoming song


I picture Nanna showing her great great great grandchildren

How to play draughts, how to prune a tree

How to knit socks, how not to suck at scrabble

And relating tales and stories

Of how life in the old world used to be


Yes, Lilacs for Lucy

Lilacs blooming so delicately

A hardy tree with a beautiful flower

That will grow and thrive

And live to eternity




25 July 2015



– See you again soon Nanna, with all my love, Rach

John 5:28,29 –  Revelation:21:4 – John 11:11-44






I Can See


I can see




I Can See





I can see a vast rainbow sky

Through all the tears that I cry

I can see laughter in the rain

Washing away the sadness and the pain




I can see the sun breaking through

Turning all the gray to blue

I can see stars sparkling out on the water

And somehow the nights seem shorter




I can see hope in full bloom

As truth sweeps away the gloom

I can see someone holding out a hand

And suddenly it’s not so hard to stand




I can see a heart like mine

As two lost souls combine

I can see a smiling face

As everything falls into place




I can see a word to trust

And all my doubt turns to rust

I can see music in the night

A free spirit dancing soft and light




I can see stars in candlelight

And all the sorrow blinks out of sight

I can see forever in kind eyes

Warmth beside me at sunrise




I can see laughter on the air

A life so rich and without care

I can see children running at play

On a balmy summers day




I can see a family together

No big storms to weather

I can see happiness welling so high

It almost reaches to the sky




I can see a white house by the sea

A place my heart longs to be

I can see water lapping below

As gentle waves ebb and flow




I can see a comfy room

Roses and lilies in fragrant bloom

I can see air and light

And everything feels so right




I can see a butterfly’s fluttering grace

Through sunshine and lace

I can see birds singing loud and strong

Like nothing ever was wrong




I can see work to be done

But somehow it’s nothing but fun

I can see a life built on faith

Each brick solid and ever safe




I can see mountain vistas grand

Testifying to what will always stand

I can see green grass sway

As the sun sets golden on another day




I can see hugs and kisses given

To long missed faces that have arisen

I can see every thing as it should be

Long muted voices singing free




I can see waking up every day

To dreams budding out of decay

I can see a time long surreal

Suddenly becoming all so real




I can see a dark winter forever past

As humanity’s spring time comes at last

I can see a dark night over

As light bursts forth like a supernova




I can see joy and peace and love

Falling down from up above

I can see a life meant to be

A life meant for you and me







“For God loved the world so much that he gave his only-begotten Son, in order that everyone exercising faith in him might not be destroyed but have everlasting life. “

– John 3:16, Jesus Christ


“For here I am creating new heavens and a new earth; and the former things will not be called to mind, neither will they come up into the heart. But exult, you people, and be joyful forever in what I am creating…  no more will there be heard in her the sound of weeping or the sound of a plaintive cry.” “No more will there come to be a suckling a few days old from that place, neither an old man that does not fulfill his days…  And they will certainly build houses and have occupancy; and they will certainly plant vineyards and eat their fruitage. They will not build and someone else have occupancy; they will not plant and someone else do the eating. For like the days of a tree will the days of my people be; and the work of their own hands my chosen ones will use to the full. They will not toil for nothing, nor will they bring to birth for disturbance; because they are the offspring made up of the blessed ones of Jehovah, and their descendants with them. And it will actually occur that before they call out I myself shall answer; while they are yet speaking, I myself shall hear.”

– Isaiah 65:17-24


“I have hope toward God, which hope these [men] themselves also entertain, that there is going to be a resurrection of both the righteous and the unrighteous.”

– Acts 24:15, the Apostle Paul






Look Up


Look Up



Look Up





I looked up at the stars last night
Burning so clear, so radiant, so bright
And wondered about galaxies distant eons away
And thought about a happy future day

I drifted around in my mind to a time
When all hurts are healed and everything is fine
When those sleeping safe will wake up
When life will be an endless full cup

I thanked my friend there up above
Who sent his dearest one with love
Who gave a gift we can never repay
A hope that can illuminate the darkest day

I wondered what I would have been
If I had never known it, if I had never seen
The truth, the way, that bright shining light
Like the stars above, beacons of hope in the night

I saw around me the ones who have given in
Those that are looking down or are looking in
They do not look above to the hope sparkling there
They only see the now, and so they despair

Then I saw also, those who look up in the night
They look to the future, look to the right
Those who have made a friend of that one up above
Who know his care and feel his love

I could see them smiling though the sun goes down
They survive the storms in which others drown
Like me, they look up to see burning stars shining still
Knowing with certainty, that their hope is real






~ inspired by Dave and Jo…

…after Katie began her peaceful sleep ~



“We do not want you to be ignorant concerning those who are sleeping in death; that you may not sorrow just as the rest also do who have no hope.”

– 1 Thessalonians 4:13, the Apostle Paul



“Do not marvel at this, because the hour is coming in which all those in the memorial tombs will hear his voice and come out, those who did good things to a resurrection of life, those who practiced vile things to a resurrection of judgment.”

– John 5:28, 29, Jesus Christ