The silence of the grave,
It's always been said,
Is tranquil and peaceful, surrounded by dead,
One forgets all life's worries, one's woes and the time,
Until interrupted by those beautiful chimes.
Three o'clock in St. Mary's church yard,
A time I shan't forget,
The bells, the peace, the atmosphere,
Loses all sadness and regret.
Drawn ever nearer to those heavenly sounds,
Beckoning people from all round the town,
Looking up at the tower somewhat sombre in pride,
Contrasted such glory and joy held inside.
Three o'clock in St. Mary's churchyard,
A time I shan't forget,
The spires, the joy and holiness,
Loses all sadness and regret.
The gleeful echo of organ,
The heel on the cold stone slabs,
The colourful light of the stained glass,
The ornamental hanging of flags.
Three o'clock in St. Mary's churchyard,
A time I shan't forget,
The sights, the sounds, the senses,
Loses all sadness and regret.
If only the walls could speak to me,
What times of splendour, of joy have you seen?
From weddings to funerals,
From evensong to mass,
Such contrasts of feeling have since come to pass.
Three o'clock in St. Mary's churchyard,
Hark the chimes, it's a quarter past three!
The torrents of emotion and history,
But with that I trudged home for my tea.
If you enjoyed this poem, please consider giving it a like or dropping me a line in the comments section below. Many thanks, M.R.W
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The Assorted Drivel of a Student
PoetryA collection of poems written whilst studying, covering the highs and lows of education and growing up whether that be the stresses and strains put upon friendships; the growing experiences with love; the draining pressure put upon students or the g...
