G14 (A Cave In Dewisland) Poem by Jacqui Thewless

G14 (A Cave In Dewisland)



For us,
communion gifts were otherwise.
We went to sing the song O,
Thou, pure, divine
Virgin – when Easter stripped the beach of tourists,
sowing the sand with rain. You harvested
rich harmonies, so close, my God in silent rock...

Midsummer, once,
we found a single flower, glowing
on the cave’s hearth-stone.
Out, in the inglenook of sky,
the sun blazed afternoon.

By moonlight, at
Michaelmas, it might have been Non nobis,
Domine – we sang, heads bowed,
under the low roof, just
for you, One God, Who’ s listening.

So it was not myself in G14,
all night at Christmas, wreathed
in the duvets. They slept soundly,
- though the long sea boomed
to the pitch of a gale. He

split to the West,

and I’ve come home in the south
to the cave of my mouth.

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