In A Country Church by R. S. Thomas

To one kneeling down no word came,

Only the wind’s song, saddening the lips

Of the grave saints, rigid in glass;

Or the dry whisper of unseen wings,

Bats not angels, in the high roof.

 

Was he balked by the silence? He kneeled long,

And saw love in a dark crown

Of thorns blazing, and a winter tree

Golden with fruit of a man’s body.

 

by R. S. Thomas

From Song At The Year’s Turning (1955)

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MrHearne

Russian and Welsh poetry uploaded on alternating weeks. Occasionally other poems along with reviews of literature, films, theatre, food and drink. Any support via comments, likes, follows and subscribing is appreciated.

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