The Alter

You’re the love of my life,
So i’ll make sure you’re my wife,
Forever. Till the end.
I know where we’ll meet,
At the alter, in such a heat,
At the perfect moment.
You’ll make me all sappy,
God knows I’ll be happy,
And it’ll last.
We all know it makes sense,
I was never on the fence,
We’ll get there.
So when the clock strikes three,
I need you there: for me.

‘Come Lord and Lift’ by T. Merrill

Come Lord, and lift the fallen bird
Abandoned on the ground;
The soul bereft and longing so
To have the lost be found.

The heart that cries—let it but hear
Its sweet love answering,
Or out of ether one faint note
Of living comfort wring.

This is one of my favourite poems by a contemporary poet. It is a breathtaking cry of compassion for a fallen creature, and metaphorically for ourselves. What do you think?

‘The Abbey’ – A World War I poem…

The abbey Christ was hit and buried
Beneath its debris and its dregs.
In bunkers, packed-up saints lie serried
Well out of hearing of our toil.

One Virgin still unsullied
Simpers on for war to flatter her.
She’s halo’d with an old tin hat,
But a bit of hell will batter her.