Cathedral Builders Poem by John Ormond

Cathedral Builders



They climbed on sketchy ladders towards God,
With winch and pulley hoisted hewn rock into heaven,
Inhabited the sky with hammers, defied gravity,
Deified stone, took up God's house to meet him,

And came down to their suppers and small beer,
Every night slept, lay with their smelly wives,
Quarrelled and cuffed the children, lied,
Spat, sang, were happy, or unhappy,

And every day took to the ladders again;
Impeded the rights of way of another summer's
Swallows, grew greyer, shakier, became less inclined
To fix a neighbour's roof of a fine evening,

Saw naves sprout arches, clerestories soar,
Cursed the loud fancy glaziers for their luck,
Somehow escaped the plague, got rheumatism,
Decided it was time to give it up,

To leave the spire to others, stood in the crowd,
Well back from the vestments at the consecration,
Envied the fat bishop his warm boots,
Cocked a squint eye aloft, and said, 'I bloody did that.'

Thursday, October 16, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: religion
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Gajanan Mishra 16 October 2014

good one, thanks, go on writing.

4 4 Reply
Andy Hunt 23 November 2021

This poem brought tears to my eyes. I'm a tradesman and been working on Inigo Jones's church at Covent Garden for fifteen years. When I finally can't climb the sketchy ladders anymore I want this poem read at my funeral. Beautiful! ! !

2 0 Reply
Iris Henderson 19 August 2019

This sight truly boosts my brain. Gracias

3 2 Reply
Jane P 16 April 2019

Seeing the flames engulf Notre dame, I've been re-reading this beautiful poem with tears stinging my eyes.

4 3 Reply
A Lynch 15 April 2019

I'm reading this poem on the eve of the fire at Notre Dame de Paris as the immaculate work of thousands of cathedral builders whose names we don’t know, is reduced to ash. In the face of this loss for humanity, I send my thanks to them and the poet for articulating my appreciation beautifully.

5 4 Reply
A Lynch 15 April 2019

I'm reading this poem on the eve of the fire at Notre Dame de Paris as the immaculate work of thousands of cathedral builders whose names we don’t know is being reduced to ash. In the face of this loss for humanity, I send my thanks to them and the poet for articulating my appreciation beautifully.

3 4 Reply
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John Ormond

John Ormond

Dunvant, near Swansea
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