From dawn till dusk,
The day draws on,
Dipping into coldest lakes,
Glimmers of a frozen sun,
March rays upon the dew,
Imprisons in its rainbow lights,
'Till frost remains entombed.

The pressures of the day,
Wash ashore the bed of time,
And all that's left to say:
Is God is good at every line,
All unfolds as one long play,
Yet we hardly see its steady rhyme,
For the glipse I saw, I'll say:
God is good at every line.

---

**Oxford Interview Reflection**
Hertford 1, 2:50PM
Good times,
Hard times,
Stuck unstuck and stuck,
Writing digitally quick,
Reckoning with questions that elude.

Underneath the radiant stars,
An embassy from a land afar,
Pulses like a heart,
A great house of the lord - an upstart.

A rebellion brews,
Against the unflesh and bloodless,
Against the darkness that spews,
Against which their Lord has won.

So they shall pulse,
And beat and drum,
To stir up a great chorus,
And sing of mercy and justice.

Their radiance is blinding,
For their light is a holy light,
The very light which broke their binding,
The very Son of Man with highpriestly might.

So sing and dance,
And dance some more,
Their saviour's won,
He can be yours.