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Rickinghall Chapel

A Poem by:

David Coe

Colourful Bar

Copyright shall at all times remain vested in the Author. No part of the work shall be used, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the Author's express written consent.

I came to a chapel on high ground,

The door of old English oak invited,

History captured the uneven white walls,

and reflected on high stained windows,

and there was love, such love.

She spoke of God as a family friend,

a guest for dinner that would never attend,

of times he would talk, but never speak,

sometimes go, but never leave,

a friend that would always be there.

So clear the song,

the metaphor stayed,

and I,

just sat there and prayed,

and there was love,

such love.

If this filled me with such emotion now,

how would I be,

when I finally meet him?


David Coe
Copyright ©2001

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