Church of England 2012
The Church of England, so predictable.
That bastion of souls, all respectable.
With trendy vicars toeing the line,
Hapless curates taking their time.
Of women bishops marching in the fray,
And other clergy feeling gay.
A lefty Archbishop with an old grey beard,
A congregation thinking it all too weird.
Arranging flowers the elderly Mrs Brown,
The choirmaster, man about town.
The verger hardworking and honest,
The organ master writing a sonnet.
The leaking roof about to cave in,
With the next sermon all about sin.
The bells ring out in perfect chime.
The whole church way behind time.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Church of England 2012 by David Wood )
- Life, Soul Watcher
- Song of Myself, LII, Walt Whitman
- Bharatheeyakavitha-3, dr.k.g.balakrishnan kandangath
- Childhood is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies, Edna St. Vincent Millay
- Gone From My Sight, Henry Van Dyke
- When I Die, Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
- A LONG NIGHT, Satish Verma
- Ideals And Ethical Dreams, Margaret Alice Second
- Inner Peace, Leong Ming Loong
- God! ! man, SALINI NAIR
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