Poetry by Catholic writers, or that deals with subjects and themes of interest to Catholics.

Poem: A Prayer to Shine Through

Path outside St Winefride's Guest House, by Holywell Shrine

I must admit, God,

Sometimes it's hard

To follow You.

There are so many people sick,

So many people dying,

So many people struggling

For justice, for peace, for breath,

For life's simple needs.


Sometimes it's hard

To seek You,...

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Poem: This is the time to be slow

St Bueno's - image Judy Dixey

Fergal Keane reads from the Benedictus: Book of Blessings by John O'Donohue.

On Radio 4's Today programme, some of BBC News' best-known voices are offering favourite poems of #comfortandhope, and talking about the importance of the words in their lives.

Here, Fergal Keane recites the verse that helped sustain him as he experienced PTSD.

This link will take you thro...

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Advent Poem

What Do You Want For Christmas?

What do you want for Christmas?

Nothing much - peace on earth and glory in the highest.

The rooting out of all that disturbs, destroys or cankers life

to let the Eternal be seen in all its beauty.

What do you want for Christmas?

The simplest, poorest things:

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Poetry: An Invaded Life by Fr Rob Esdaile

Fr Rob Esdaile - photo © Olivia Fabb

An Invaded Life is the title of Fr Rob Esdaile's latest book of poems, just published, which gathers reflections on a rather disparate series of themes, as he explains in the introduction:

"I have long had the custom of writing a reflection for our parish 'Advent Carols and Readings by Candlelight' service each year, trying to tease out what the Christma...

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Poem: The Lost Pyx: A Mediaeval Legend


Some say the spot is banned; that the pillar Cross-and-Hand

Attests to a deed of hell;

But of else than of bale is the mystic tale

That ancient Vale-folk tell.

Ere Cernel's Abbey ceased hereabout there dwelt a priest,

(In later life sub-prior

Of the brotherhood there, whose bones are now bare

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Poetry: Birds and Angels

St Michael, with bright wings (BL Royal MS 18 D II, f. 161v)

A Clerk of Oxford writes:

Today is Michaelmas, the feast of St Michael and All Angels - a beautiful feast at perhaps the loveliest time of the year. In honour of the day I want to post a medieval English poem which I stumbled across for the first time recently. It's not strictly for Michaelmas (it's set in the spring) but by the time you reach the end of it you'll understand why I'm posti...

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Our Lady of Sorrows

Mater Dolorosa by Titian

Blessed Mother,

You knew Not only how to carry Your own deep sorrows with dignity

But to make room to hold the sorrows of another.

You were not afraid of annihilation

Not alarmed by a fresh dismemberment.

You were the centrifugal force of love

That holds the accelerating universe In a wide offering of ever-expanding joy

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Poem: The Holy Guest

Sarah de Nordwall

A poem to celebrate the Art Exhibition at the Servite Church - Holy Spirit Shaping Presence on 16th September 2019

The Holy Guest

And the Holy Spirit is released from the ark

As from the hand of the Father

Forth she goes

To seek a place of rest

Where the waters of unconsciousness have withdrawn

And the need for healing souls

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Poem for the Presentation


Nunc Dimittis

I am a ghost man, shelled like a pea pod By the very unkindness of my God, who leading me a merry dance of years- does not alleviate, but accentuates my fears.

I have served in sacred words and rhyme, The praises of this Lord through time. Up and down the minute...

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Poems for St Lucy's Day

Saint Lucie's Day

Midwinter comes and in the North, the light denigrates into inky royal blues so often tinged with dark grey closing over us in squid-ink darkness.

There are lights there in the pitch-purpleness, Sparkles of light coming and going Some ever so long dead by millions of human year...

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Advent Poem by John O'Brien: Attentiveness

Hampstead Heath ICN/JS

Kimmage asylum room my monastic cell And your cell will teach you everything; Say the Desert Fathers - and Mothers too. Becoming attentive to my own Autumn Invitation to hear what my soul is saying. Easing off that narcotic habit of hurrying On to an ever-receding, incomplete future Recov...

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Poem: Christ Bled Poppy-Red

Poppies fleck the fields of Flanders mud, their scarlet dashes dotting red the shell-churned brownscape, little moments of vitality amidst morass of death, standing tall in a land where none dare stand at all.

Trees felled, birdsong stilled, bodies threaded on the wire; only the poppies wave now, not in surrender but rec...

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Closing St Cuthman's

Closing St Cuthman's

And in the orchard an apple fell to earth, floored by heaviness, fallen from the tree of life, flawed as we all are by the worm at work, while on the lawn under a canopy polite obsequies were acted out as though there'd been no death.

A strange wake this, with the dearly depart...

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