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Array ( [sid] => 146525 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Ode to St. Antony Maria Claret [time] => 2008-11-27 16:23:09 [hometext] => [bodytext] =>

Modest, but comfortable was the room
At Sallent, Barcelona where the Saint
Worked busily before his Jaquart loom
With his so clever, deft artistic hands.
Suspended warp threads stretched out very taut,
To interlace with yarns to make the weft,
And now the gifted weaver slowly brought
The shuttle through the shed, most skilled and deft.

So many ways to weave and many a style,
With fill-ins plain, or rich decorative,
But love must have the craftsman of textile
To well create the product with its weave.
Did Antony perhaps think of the One
Who weaved a robe, - a garment without seam,
With boundless love, for her dear only son,
Who would in time to come the world redeem?

Behind the warp suspended high and tall,
He heard a voice that seemed at first not clear,
But then more persuasive seemed the call,
Insisting that he change his fine carrier.
To Barcelona went young Antony,
To yet refine and give it more uplift,
With judges praising his efficiency
They praised his skill and extraordinary gift.

But lo! - his ardent spirit asked for more,
Than excellence in the fine weaving art,
And what he had esteemed so high before
No longer weighed upon the young man's heart.
Gifts of the highest orders soon outshone
His erstwhile talents and would now replace
With Spirit whirling like a gale- cyclone
A-stirring up new talents with His grace.

The sheddles, shuttle, harness, and that gear,
Still handled cleverly and with a smile,
But t'was that "Call" he could forever hear,
This master maker of the best textile.
He worked by day and studied in the night,
And soon aquired skill and expertise,
The Blessed Lady's image by his side.
The holy Books of Scripture on his knees.

The call of higher life he recognized,
A benefice permitting to fulfill
His studies in the ministry of Christ
With ardor and with dedicated zeal.
Lo! Catalonia, Cuba, Canaries,
Then on to Rome, and back again to Spain,
Where vicious lies and biting calomnies
Caused Antony much suffering and pain.

His written works are great and numerous,
And he revived the language Catalan,
That show a fervent soul magnanimous,
Soul passionate and cosmopolitan.
Pain he endured great Father Antony
By haters and nefarious foes oppressed,
He knew of suffering and adversity,
And knew of spite's and hatred's cruel test.

As Missionary Priest and Minister
Of the most destitute, disenfranchised,
The holy Padre would henceforth take care,
In his great zeal and love for man and Christ.
His heart is incorrupt, the pilgrims' throng
Flocks to his grave to tell him of their cares,
And pray with fervor until evensong,
Strong families and beat-up solitaires.

Dear holy father Antony we plead
And pray and supplicate with confidence,
To graciously for us to intercede
For blessings flowing from your generous hands.
Your banner, Father Antony Claret
Consumed with ardor's zeal let it fly high
So that it's threads of warp and weft will spread
To thrust big lands up to the starry sky.

A perpetuity,- dear Fater give
That your dear sons and daughter will prevail
To touch the heart of every child of Eve,
And by your intercession never fail
To plant within men's hearts the precious seed
That deeply touched by their so zealous word.
Will be prepared, when it is time to meet
Their master sovereign our Christ the Lord.

(c) Elizabeth Dandy

.

.

.

[comments] => 3 [counter] => 184 [topic] => 62 [informant] => Elizabeth_Dandy [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => spiritual )

Ode to St. Antony Maria Claret

Contributed by Elizabeth_Dandy on Thursday, 27th November 2008 @ 04:23:09 PM in AEST
Topic: spiritual

Modest, but comfortable was the room
At Sallent, Barcelona where the Saint
Worked busily before his Jaquart loom
With his so clever, deft artistic hands.
Suspended warp threads stretched out very taut,
To interlace with yarns to make the weft,
And now the gifted weaver slowly brought
The shuttle through the shed, most skilled and deft.

So many ways to weave and many a style,
With fill-ins plain, or rich decorative,
But love must have the craftsman of textile
To well create the product with its weave.
Did Antony perhaps think of the One
Who weaved a robe, - a garment without seam,
With boundless love, for her dear only son,
Who would in time to come the world redeem?

Behind the warp suspended high and tall,
He heard a voice that seemed at first not clear,
But then more persuasive seemed the call,
Insisting that he change his fine carrier.
To Barcelona went young Antony,
To yet refine and give it more uplift,
With judges praising his efficiency
They praised his skill and extraordinary gift.

But lo! - his ardent spirit asked for more,
Than excellence in the fine weaving art,
And what he had esteemed so high before
No longer weighed upon the young man's heart.
Gifts of the highest orders soon outshone
His erstwhile talents and would now replace
With Spirit whirling like a gale- cyclone
A-stirring up new talents with His grace.

The sheddles, shuttle, harness, and that gear,
Still handled cleverly and with a smile,
But t'was that "Call" he could forever hear,
This master maker of the best textile.
He worked by day and studied in the night,
And soon aquired skill and expertise,
The Blessed Lady's image by his side.
The holy Books of Scripture on his knees.

The call of higher life he recognized,
A benefice permitting to fulfill
His studies in the ministry of Christ
With ardor and with dedicated zeal.
Lo! Catalonia, Cuba, Canaries,
Then on to Rome, and back again to Spain,
Where vicious lies and biting calomnies
Caused Antony much suffering and pain.

His written works are great and numerous,
And he revived the language Catalan,
That show a fervent soul magnanimous,
Soul passionate and cosmopolitan.
Pain he endured great Father Antony
By haters and nefarious foes oppressed,
He knew of suffering and adversity,
And knew of spite's and hatred's cruel test.

As Missionary Priest and Minister
Of the most destitute, disenfranchised,
The holy Padre would henceforth take care,
In his great zeal and love for man and Christ.
His heart is incorrupt, the pilgrims' throng
Flocks to his grave to tell him of their cares,
And pray with fervor until evensong,
Strong families and beat-up solitaires.

Dear holy father Antony we plead
And pray and supplicate with confidence,
To graciously for us to intercede
For blessings flowing from your generous hands.
Your banner, Father Antony Claret
Consumed with ardor's zeal let it fly high
So that it's threads of warp and weft will spread
To thrust big lands up to the starry sky.

A perpetuity,- dear Fater give
That your dear sons and daughter will prevail
To touch the heart of every child of Eve,
And by your intercession never fail
To plant within men's hearts the precious seed
That deeply touched by their so zealous word.
Will be prepared, when it is time to meet
Their master sovereign our Christ the Lord.

(c) Elizabeth Dandy

.

.

.

Copyright © Elizabeth_Dandy ... [ 2008-11-27 16:23:09]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: Ode to St. Antony Maria Claret (User Rating: 1 )
by Jenni_K on Thursday, 27th November 2008 @ 07:01:13 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

As always, your poems are immaculately written and teach us so much...
Good to see you. Hope all is well with you.
Hugs
Jenni

Re: Ode to St. Antony Maria Claret (User Rating: 1 )
by emystar on Thursday, 27th November 2008 @ 08:14:49 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Welcome back, my precious friend.
Great write as always.
Awesome writing.
Luv, huggs, smiles, blessings,
emy

Re: Ode to St. Antony Maria Claret (User Rating: 1 )
by elle on Thursday, 27th November 2008 @ 10:59:03 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Masterful. . . every word. peace. elle

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