Magpie Tales-Tess Kincaid
cold, stone cold
doors large enough
for horses and carriages
pray in your coach option
for the aristocracy
for the aristocracy
the scent of beeswax
smoldering prayers
woolen coats, mittens
for the common folk
sore knees, frozen noses
sore knees, frozen noses
organ sounds and crystal voices
piercing the nave
images in glass
reminding the sinners
of the possibilities
images in glass
reminding the sinners
of the possibilities
14 comments:
perfect imagery- your words transported me there.
The aristocracy could stay in their coaches? I can imagine Europe's cathedrals were (are?) pretty cold in the winter.
organ sounds and crystal voices
My favourite part of Christmas...
Your Magpie is a timeless description of a cathedral. Very nice ............
Merry Christmas
perfect Christmas images in your words.
well done.
Beautiful, Joan, you transported me there. I can feel the dark and smell the candles.
I really like this poem! There is truth in contrasts, and commonalities between the aristocracy and common folk... I wonder if the aristocracy bother to contemplate the possibilities of sinners? Or the common folk, for that matter??
Very nicely written!
Rick
Nicely written! Vivid imagery ~
love the imagery, the shared space... then the organ sounds and crystal voices, bringing all to the same feelings of love.
Very evocative.
Very evocative.
A thought provoking, and beautiful poem Joan! :-)
My knees are creaking in sympathy...
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