Hope For Heaven Poem by Ernestine Northover
Hope For Heaven
Grey church sits lonely on the hill,
Awaiting its next Sunday thrill.
Voices rising up to the spire,
Kept in tune by the local choir.
Regulars that every week,
Enter the door the Lord to seek.
Its rural town’s a busy place,
Harbouring a mixed human race.
On the seventh day most sleep late,
Don’t venture through the old lychgate.
They think about the open shops
And whether lunch requires pork chops.
The bells ring out, the faithful meet,
For some it is their only treat.
They catch up on the parish news,
And who will this week, clean the pews.
Then wander home their minds refreshed,
By words spoken when they were blessed.
Grey church that stands through passing time,
Listening to its own clock chime.
Could tell a million happenings,
Of centuries of natterings.
All the souls who have passed away,
Laid to their rest, and there to stay.
Such peace surrounds this house of God,
So many feet this path have trod.
But it remains steadfast and true,
All the inclement weather through.
Solitude for the broken heart,
Hope for heaven when all depart.
© Ernestine Northover
Such peace surrounds this house of God, So many feet this path have trod. But it remains steadfast and true, All the inclement weather through. Hope for heaven when all depart. beautiful reflection on the peace that a church gives, its ceremonies, its liturgy, its choir, the building itself. and the village.... thank you for the beautiful reflections. tony
I would like to see this church Ernestine, This is such a moving poem, Thankyou for sharing it Love duncan X
A lovely poem Ernestine as ever, a vivid picture of England. Very well written. Love Andrew x
yo sup my guy, nice msg it was soo strong bro. but like, add more hip to it yk?
i had gone back to your page after quite a while to find this beautiful piece that warms the heart - thanks for sharing
Conveys great mood and feeling. I feel sorry for these great village churches, once teeming with life. But sadly there’s no spiritual life in Britain today. I am a born again Christian. I know.
Such peace surrounds this house of God, So many feet this path have trod. But it remains steadfast and true, All the inclement weather through. Nice poem. Thanks poet.
Nice one... good presentation, , ,10 not dreamy It was first step towards life’s journey That looked now real and not dreamy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 6:37:39 AM # 1.0.0.1119
thank you for wonderful rumination.........nice words.....anas