My Church Poem by Kevin Patrick
My Church
My Church, is a meadow of emerald
Gleaming with the nectar of foliage
bathing my eyes with wild lime delight
I tread in worship down isles of grass
Which trail in endless fields of songs
That know religion of man could ever hum
I prey to the elms, the birches, and the maples
That raise as the steeples in arches of branches
Of wood that no human craftsmen could carve
And im content to confess in fields of asters
Where I lay upon a congregation of lilies
in the choirs of colours where butterflies roam
and I tread in peace under a ceiling of sky
and a roof of blue where miracles come true
in the light of the forest where Eden is bound
My church is nature, and heaven her womb
Church is nature and heaven her womb! Marvellous poem Kevin.5 stars
Elms, birches and maple trees that shade the church gives the poem an exotic feel.
" That raise as the steeples in arches of branches Of wood that no human craftsmen could carve ". Very true such arches and shapes, only the Supreme Craftsman could carve. Wonderful. Full score and onto myfav
Lovely poem. On nature and it's beauty. A bouquet of flowers at the altar of Goddess Nature. "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 4:03:32 PM # 1.0.0.1119
I thought the last line was beautiful Bravo!