The Silent Church
by Matthew Finch

In the cold church,

The silence is taking its toll,

Nobody but me to make a sound,

In the silence nobody, nobody at all.



I imagine the chatting before the service,

Clattering of clogs,

Brains pondering,

Hearts beating.



Silenced by the choir,

Walking down the aisle,

Just another day in the church.

Just another service.



The only voice is the voice that echoes,

Echoing through the church,

The loud cheer like singing,

Brightens up their lives.



Friendly chatting after the service,

People walking home,

Silence again in the ,

Nobody, nobody at all.

IRISH IMAGE - A POEM by KB Ballentine
====================

Gray granite ruins shadow the field,
a tribute to glory days of stone
when the price of a slab was worth
the life of a man. Now the quarry
stands in stony silence, a decomposing
corpse above ground.

KB Ballentine