Stop a priest and ask

and will the hawthorn wear spring clouds
as the woodpecker kees and drums in sun

to warm the buds of ash and polled poplars
in streets where lovers waited to watch the moon

with arms around waists that kept a warmth
of love hidden from the bite of winter frost

And will the pubs serve beer sipped by men
with dirty hands from the making of a ship

of rivet steel that broke waves and hearts
in ports of sun and ports of city towers

so the women of one cow farms could stare
at a rock wet from the tears of waving ghosts

And would the child afraid of candle footsteps
that whispered touch learn to sing with skylark

high in the sky as swallows titter at fools like
those who want a heaven of things unseen

Published in Message in a bottle

11 thoughts on “Stop a priest and ask

  1. You create such a sense of place in this. The poem I posted is after a novel set in St. Malo–a Breton fishing town and it seems the perfect sequence to that kind of setting. The stanzas beginning with And…drew me through the poem, created a nice pacing.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. SMiLes.. tRuly if more people
    wiLL enJoY aLL emoTioNs
    iN dArk and LiGht oF
    Heaven Now..
    theRe Will
    be less
    and more lucid
    waKing dReams
    of imaginaTioN
    and creatiVitY
    set free in
    a poeTry
    and dance
    of human SonG..
    Now.. Just Heaven N0W..
    iN All shades and hues of white..
    black.. and beyond.. RainBow n0W..:)


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