Country Churchyard

The dainty hills surrounded a level slice of earth Where cocooned in times’ misty distance Ancient gathering concluded that this flat gift Would provide home for their number. At the physical, but no longer spiritual centre, Of the village, was an old country chapel A monument to a bygone age Sparsely populated by gently ageing folk. I am here for a special ceremony The son of a friend is making his communion A step on the road to maturity For the young man of the moment I sit in my pew at the rear of the chapel Too many yummy mummies in their finery Distracting me from the main event; Irreverent thoughts amongst the reverence. Presently outside into the sunshine The young lads return to their immaturity Bedecked in their communion suits, Playing football in the church grounds.