The Church

His stick was his companion that helped him move on
To venture from his garden, though he knew it was wrong
But curiosity took a hold of his excited little head
And now he didn’t care what his wise Mother said.

Mapping his way through the trees in the wood
Fighting the will to return as he knew he should
Jumping the stream with the aid of his staff
But a clumsy landing snapped it in half.

Suddenly he felt lonely which gave him a scare
Looking ahead he could see he was almost there
The sounds from the wood soon faded away
His path looked more inviting in the cold light of day.

At this point he noticed the stones in the ground
And the beat of his heart was a nervous sound
The building drew closer and towered above
A cliché took flight in the form of a dove

The peace was disturbed by the gate’s rusty squeak
A crow looked up with a worm in her beak
A squirrel scampered up the trunk of a tree
Then the sound of four feet but nothing to see

Within moments he was faced with a huge wooden door
His wandering eyes looked up from the floor
A grimacing face looked down from the stone
His fear made him realise he wasn’t alone

A quick push of the door to escape the stare
His breath all of a quiver to cope with the scare

Inside at last his quest nearly through
He stood for a while to interpret his view
Seats to his left and more to his right
Then beautiful windows that coloured the light

The smell was of paper, stone and wood
Inscriptions on the walls claiming that “God is Good”
His newly found courage carried him on once more
His feet click clacking on the cold stone floor

At the end of the aisle a rope met his eye
He followed it up so far, so high
It invited his fists to grip real tight
And down he pulled with all his might

The silence was broken with an almighty “DING DONG”
The journey home didn’t seem so long.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *