Some pondered ways
to pep-up the pulpit and pew,
but disinterest and ennui won the day.
The clergy went away to get help
and never came back.
Eventually, thunder and sleet
cracked stone, spire, and gable;
neglect, and the cold winds of time
nibbled at arch and buttress.
Where once was a stained-glass light,
weeds and mildew weathered to a moldy rot.
Where once the hems of cassocks swept
now mice and spiders rest or nest,
and baby bats roost in the rectory.
There In a dusty belfry
owls hoot and solemnly perch.
Walls crumbling to niche and cranny.
Amid all this spacy ruin
jackdaws lay their speckled eggs,
while in the misty moonlight
homeless angels fan dance
upon feather-light, slinky legs.
Some pondered ways
to pep-up the pulpit and pew,
but disinterest and ennui won the day.
The clergy went away to get help
and never came back.
Eventually, thunder and sleet
cracked stone, spire, and gable;
neglect, and the cold winds of time
nibbled at arch and buttress.
Where once was a stained-glass light,
weeds and mildew weathered to a moldy rot.
Where once the hems of cassocks swept
now mice and spiders rest or nest,
and baby bats roost in the rectory.
There In a dusty belfry
owls hoot and solemnly perch.
Walls crumbling to niche and cranny.
Amid all this spacy ruin
jackdaws lay their speckled eggs,
while in the misty moonlight
homeless angels dance
upon feather-light, slinky legs.
Fresh from Pentecost, our celebration
moved to lunch in the Rectory garden,
with views to the coast, for inspiration.
Spread on tablecloths we'd hardly begun
the quiche, ham, tomatoes, salad, or pies
when a westerly gust lifted our fare –
cloths and paper plates with lettuce and fries.
We reached out to grab our lunch from the air!
So rising to the challenge we gathered
and ate as fast as we could, in laughter
sharing fragments of what had been scattered,
at one as we'd been before the Altar.
Such was the tease of the Holy Spirit
to which we responded I felt with credit.
He
travelled
far and wide,
studied Arabic :
A famous orientalist :
An Oxford scholar and doctor of Divinity.
Here
was
a man,
the Rector
of Childrey parish,
the Reverend Edward Pococke.
He
planted
in the year
sixteen forty two,
a cedar of Lebanon seed.
Now
the
oldest
cedar tree
in this pleasant land
still grows in the Old Rectory
in the delightful village of Childrey, Oxfordshire.
An ailing confrere moans in his bed,
helpless and willing to be at peace;
ready to go far beyond this world
and be with his Maker – all that he needs.
He struggles with his failing health,
unable to speak and share his sentiments;
his remaining thread of strength
attempts to impart his faith
invoking the blessing and power beyond
a source of grace, reliance on his compassion.
As he enters the last hours of his life,
breathing becomes so strong –
perhaps God and His angels
take him around in His spiritual presence
inexplicable, a mystery to recall.
While Medieval painters depict the soul,
with a smoke that comes from the mouths
of a dying person; he’s restless.
It seems the howling of dogs hover
in the neighborhood across the rectory;
like a musical background, gritty -
scary and frightening to an individual
an eerie night that seeks
to be nearer to God.
In a free fall i can feel the sky,
Getting thicker as it rushes by,
Though its easier to take a breath,
I can barely fill the space that's left...
It's so turbulent it rushes in,
And I heard it as it burned my skin,
Just the sound it makes during my fall,
Is so profound it fakes an eagles call...
As I open up my mouth to yell,
Getting closer to an earthly smell,
All the people that are looking high,
Think a bird of prey is passing by...
If I'm fast enough then they won't see,
The approach as my velocity,
Shakes the steeples of the rectory,
As it changes my trajectory...
So if you hear the church bell ring,
Turn around before the choir sings,
And then watch the skyline touch the ground,
As it burn's a path as I come down...
The first son inherited by right
The second,off with his king to fight;
Ab third in a rectory might dwell
The youngest was to marr well..
Family coffers...more to swell.
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