Church Militant

by R. D. Ashby

(reflections on a local church)

A few seconds away from moonlight

in the dead of night

its floodlit splendour says something to me:

is it the constancy

of what it stands for, stood for?

The amazing dimensions

of chequered brickwork walls,

gable, arch and tower,

above the uncomfortably silent road,

apostolate? Or like some modern

priest in civvies, turned trendy,

the patent theology

talked down - perforce to stand and gloat?

As it does so at this hour...

and its eyes meet mine.

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