The Verger
By docbooth
Ancient white haired verger,Pillar of the church,Standing as God’s masonry cast in flesh and blood.Silently moving,Gliding down the aisle,Chalking up the hymns for plain evensong.Brushing out the churchWith a broom of silent bristles,Polishing the gold with a soft yellow cloth.Sorting out hymn books, prayer books and psaltersLining up the hassocks in their bright red cloth.Now the black gowned figureReceives the faithful flockReady for the start of plain evensong.The priest pours out his blessings,Sustained by Him above,And then hurries home for a late evening meal.Parishioners disperse to their homeside firesAnd the ancient white haired verger,That pillar of the church,Gathers up the hymn books, prayer books and psalters,And keeps his silent watch. Written September 14th, 2001 © on Sep 13 2001 09:20 PM PST 0 • 10
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"Ancient white haired verger,Pillar of the church,Standing as God’s masonry cast in flesh and blood.Silently moving,Gliding down the aisle,Chalking up the hymns for plain evensong.Brushing out the churchWith a broom of silent bristles,Polishing the gold with a soft yellow cloth.Sorting out hymn books, prayer books and psaltersLining up the hassocks in their bright red cloth.Now the black gowned figureReceives the faithful flockReady for the start of plain evensong.The priest pours out his blessings,Sustained by Him above,And then hurries home for a late evening meal.Parishioners disperse to their homeside firesAnd the ancient white haired verger,That pillar of the church,Gathers up the hymn books, prayer books and psalters,And keeps his silent watch...."