Ode to The Church
A poem by an unknown guest.
Ode to The Church
Near the crest of the hill, centre of
Franklinford
Is a place called The Church where once
spirits soared,
It stands serene, midst verdant pastures
abounding
Where once a flourishing community was
surrounding.
Now The Church has outgrown its sacred
days
Though it still echoes with long gone
voices of praise
Decked out with homely comforts for man
to abide
Away from the busy city he can rest and
hide.
Restoring his well-being and piece of
mind
No better sanctuary could one ever find.
the light pours in through the rose
window in the morn,
As one's inner strength is revived and
reborn.
Although the sacred purpose is now
forever lost,
One feels that God would smile at such a
small cost.
When The Church helps man to find peace
which comes only from above
It's surely a fitting role for a building
of God's everlasting love.
Unknown.