Watchful Eyes–St Margaret’s.

by Susie

Grey and old I think we’d say,

but standing proudly every day.

Through stormy, blowy, violent weather.

Your bricks are shabby your fabric grim

the hanging lamps are often dim.

But you have that smell that brings much peace

of wooden pews – a polished feat.

Knelt by many who do recall the absurdity

of ‘dragons myth’*

The old clock that ticks and loudly tocks!

through silent prayers and heartfelt gospels.

Those watchful eyes that see it all,

as casting sunlight comes shafting

through, ancient mauve- lit leaded lights.

Gothic shaped arches as smoky rays stream

a twinkling of Gods dawning dream.

To cast on brass plaque which honours those men

who fell, in 1914-18 war.
War to end all wars!

Still and quiet on Sunday faces of

those that dream of Heavens places,

Yet unseen…

The heart that beats in this ancient place

of sometimes sorrow or better still,

in wedding grace.

Of joy and love but still much to face…

Your watchful eyes see with secrets safe,

the thoughts of those who ardently pray

within these walls.

Of bonny babes in christening robes and

pretty bones that kneel in rows.

And love, yes love!

For it is love that will echo through eternity…

For all those we pray, those in mind most every day.

The sadness seen, the secrets kept,

as we lay those we love, to sleeping rest.

Within these walls St Margaret sees it all…

With watchful eyes…

*One day a Roman prefect saw the beautiful young Margaret as she was tending sheep, and tried to seduce her. When she refused, the official denounced her as an outlaw Christian, and she was brought to trial. When she refused to sacrifice to the pagan gods, the authorities tried to burn her, and then boil her in a large cauldron; each time her prayers kept her unharmed. She was finally martyred by beheading.
Part of her story involves her meeting the devil in the form of a dragon, being swallowed by the dragon, and then escaping safely when the cross she carried irritated the dragon’s innards; this accounts for this virgin’s association with pregnancy, labour, and childbirth.

9 comments

1 Ellie Robson { 02.10.12 at 2:44 pm }: Hi Susie,

“I love this poem Auntie Susie! St Margarets is a wonderful church even as a non villager it holds a very dear place in my heart and I hope it’s still around for years to come. “
2 Dianne { 02.10.12 at 8:45 pm }: My fondest memory of our visit to England in 1999 was walking into an old church in a tiny village. I could almost hear the whispers of those who had walked before me – the joy, the sadness, the tears, the love. A beautiful poem to honor your special church.
3 susie { 02.10.12 at 11:15 pm }: Thank you Ellie – I don’t suppose “Watchful Eyes” will mean much to those who don’t know this lovely village church, unless they have a special one themselves and not many do these days. It takes a lot of upkeep as you know, perhaps this poem will draw attention to it’s plight and the history within. Thank you dear one X
4 susie { 02.10.12 at 11:23 pm }: Thank you Dianne.It is lovely to know that you and Vern visited in 1999 and created some good memories of our beautiful England. These little village churches suffer like most things these days – lack of money for repairs but it is precious to us here in the Village. The sound of the church bells daily makes our village complete. It is our duty to try to keep it going. Blessings and Peace.
5 John A. Bayerl { 02.16.12 at 6:16 pm }: Still and quiet on Sunday faces of
those that dream of Heavens places,
Yet unseen…

I love the sublime sense of hope this gives me, Susie. As usual, you are a master of words.
6 susie { 02.16.12 at 6:25 pm }: Thank you John. This is a little away from my usual ‘poems of love’ but I have much affection for this little village church. I am so glad that at least one line has given you a sense of hope, for then all is worthwhile. I continue my daily prayers of peace for you, hoping that you may find glimmers of joy in every new day.
7 Sandy Banks { 02.17.12 at 1:45 pm }: What a lovely tribute, Susie! The village where I live in Colombia has many old, small churches and I actually live now right under the bells of the cathedral, chiming the hours and tolling the passages of the village’s people. Whatever one’s chosen belief system is, it cannot be denied that these edifices provide a true sanctuary and support.
8 susie { 02.18.12 at 12:58 pm }: Thank you Sandy – always a difficult task to write about something that many have affection for. Wonderful to read about your village with it’s many small old churches – I try to picture it. I can hear the church bell ringing from my place and on a wednesday I can listen to the campanologists (is there such a word?) practice their bell ringing it is a comforting sound. All very best wishes to you Sandy – Hugs.
9 Elizabeth @ The Garden Window { 02.29.12 at 11:52 am }: We too have an ancient church, founded in the 11th century, and it also speaks, though I could never put it as eloquently as you did here. Thank you for sharing this !