Adrian Plass

Official Website



What about the wounded?

What about the lost?

What about the ones who failed

To understand the cost?


What about the broken-hearted

Puzzled and betrayed

The ones who hoped and hoped and hoped

And prayed and prayed and prayed? 


What about the endless nights 

And fears that never cease

The hundred failed Gethsemanes

The pointless search for peace?  


What about the ones who hide

Because they are afraid 

Of those who will not tolerate

The way that they are made?


What about the weary ones

Who find the going tough

The desolate Elijahs

Who have simply had enough?


What about the disappointed

Darkened by distress

The ones who hoped for so much more

And live with so much less?


What about the wounded

Bleeding on the street

Staring eyes, children’s cries

The horror and the heat?


What about the wounded, Lord?


Days of My Life

By Adrian Plass

The sun
The moon
The stars
Hung high in heaven for my delight
Mysterious gifts
A mobile that will draw my hands
My eyes, my life
Will teach me shape and fill my heart with wonder and with smiling 

I watch
But secretly willing
As my foot rises, moving forward with my weight
And I realise
That at last
I am going to walk

There is not space
In this round world
To fling my hands 
My heart my body
They are rockets
I will fire them to the edges of the universe
To circle and to race the flying planets 
In the star-bedazzled cosmos of my spirit

One road only now
It must not be the one that I have travelled
I try, I tried, but walls rise up
And strong, unyielding voices tell me 
Onward is the way, you may not stand
The broad and narrow paths, all choice has vanished with the days
One road only now
I sometimes fear what I may find

Always in the past
Autumn was the richest time
But now I stumble in the fallen leaves
My body and my heart are frail
I have mislaid the magic 
And imagination’s power
Warm confidence that winter’s coldest, darkest hour
Contains within its heart the hidden fire of Spring