I MET A JOURNEYMAN

I met a journeyman past the Bow Bells

We crouched serene in desolate detritus

Wide-eyed, waylaid in a wooded void

Entrenched in the gardens of war

How’s arch our window to forgotten souls

A holier ground kissed harsh by weeds

Where banished men lie silk-swaddled, forgotten ‘neath

Cracked headstones washed clear in floods of years

A well drew blood from the eyes of the past

My splintered gloves soothed, plunged deep in monkey grass



Now we claim the cruel king’s lands

A new congregation rooted in tented flowerbeds

A patched-up shield, wildlife’s cemetery haven

Old worship razed to sprout a green foundation

When the clock struck war, it heard the farmhands flee

Forced the Bow Church to knee, torn away piece by piece

Till the reverend’s memory kept watch alone

Calling ashes to ashes, where fresh seeds are sown