Minster Lovell

The Minster's quiet grace speaks of a time when life was simple, kinsfolk came to pray for hope within this haven so sublime that famine and disease be kept at bay. The temple thrives to prove the power of God, it bests the test, as celebrants have trod her cloistered precincts dressed in robe and cowl to swell His praise through seasons fair and foul. Today we slay and maim all in His name people whose God displays another face; we trample on chaste values and defame this land we hold so dear, to our disgrace. His church endures, the crumbling structure stands, a shrine of truth on time's all-weathered hill; shall we learn life's lesson, hold in our hands the answer, or will it elude us still? ********* ...a ruined Abbey on the outskirts of Oxford, UK