And thanks for the plot, that in Winter so bare
Stood waiting for spade and trowel and hoe,
And a dad who was keen that we all have a go.
So while mum sorted seeds and I poked them in,
My sister ran off, her face in a grin
To find her old watering can, battered and bent
And proceeded to shower us all through the dent!

Praise God for the shoots that began to come through,
And thanks for the Spring time, as everything grew
And the first early cabbage was pulled from the earth,
With sticks of green sprouts just coming to birth
Which my sister and I found so funny to use
As battering rams …there was many a bruise!
But each year at this time we planted a marrow,
Just a small little seed in a trough, dug quite narrow.

Praise God for the sunshine and picnics and flowers,
And thanks for the spending of long Summer hours
Picking strawberries and raspberries, more eaten than bagged,
But those that remained were all sorted and tagged.
We examined our marrow, now six inches long
And scratched on a message and watched it grow strong.
I lazed on the grass, looking up at the sky
With the trees in full leaf and the clouds scudding by.

Praise God for such memories from a small piece of land,
And thanks for the people who all lent a hand
To give me a sense of God’s care for his world,
As I watched through the seasons, Creation unfurled.
So as Autumn descended and days were cut short,
Our marrow was lifted, and in due time was brought
To the chapel, at Harvest, where all were amazed
At the message writ large on its side, ‘GOD BE PRAISED’

Hazel Bradley
After an afternoon’s discussion on ecological issues at our House Group, we were asked to write something about a piece of land, special to us, that in some way had helped to form our thinking about creation and the natural world. This poem was my response to the task.