Wilfred Owen

(1893-1918 / Shropshire / England)

Le Christianisme - Poem by Wilfred Owen

So the church Christ was hit and buried
Under its rubbish and its rubble.
In cellars, packed-up saints long serried,
Well out of hearing of our trouble.

One Virgin still immaculate
Smiles on for war to flatter her.
She's halo'd with an old tin hat,
But a piece of hell will batter her.


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Read poems about / on: war, smile



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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