Nature smiles at the irony

that is on display in the side step of land

that acted as the border between the heathen

appreciation and the Godly interloper. The whisper

that has seen the branches of green rise up

and mushroom their canopy of shade

over the entire wall and threatens to engulf

and convert the minds of all

who live down St. Andrews Road into saluting

the wonder

of environmental progress as the battle for hearts and minds

is out of control.

 

It won’t last of course,

they would not allow nature to cover the church

inside out and allow the gothic to become imposing

through the majesty of trees, flowers, birds

and weeds, the soil must not be reclaimed by scenery,

the cross of St. Andrews must not be disturbed

from its well ordered brick like structure,

level and disciplined peace and tranquil repose

and yet from the bedroom window, where once

I saw unfeeling brick, I only see the

Tower at the Western end

and the lonely seagull acting as look out

smiling at me with dubious pleasure

as the trees and bushes hold nature in its hands.

Ian D. Hall 2015