Richard Rawson

Heathen Sunday - Poem by Richard Rawson

And now I call it a sacrament:
An incantation, a swing of the censer,
A rush of holy water into a glass.
I say: The ale is at my right hand,
and lift it to my lips.
I am my own best priest.

Listen to this poem:

Comments about Heathen Sunday by Richard Rawson

  • (10/29/2005 8:48:00 PM)

    a tribute to the sacramental nature of ALL experience. Well written. (Report) Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
Read all 1 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Saturday, October 29, 2005

Famous Poems

  1. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  5. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  6. Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
    Mary Elizabeth Frye
  9. I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
    Pablo Neruda
  10. Television
    Roald Dahl
[Report Error]