Church And Still Horizon Poem by Sheena Blackhall

Church And Still Horizon

Rating: 4.5


Not every Sunday thundered storm and sin
A psalm could make the hardest pew seem soft
Peace like a golden dove flapped honeyed wings
A tawny angel dropped a shower of blessings
A psalm could make the hardest pew seem soft
Not every sermon walked on torn feet

A tawny angel dropped a shower of blessings
The Lord's face did not always wear a frown
Not every sermon walked on torn feet

The world upon its axle stopped and listened
The Lord's face did not always wear a frown
The preacher raised a black arm to the sky
The world upon its axle stopped and listened
Not every Sunday thundered storm and sin

The preacher raised a black arm to the sky
Peace like a golden dove flapped honeyed wings

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success