Sober sunlight
Fishguard's Hermon Baptist Chapel looked magnificent in the late afternoon sunshine as I made my way to the surplus food cafe for a session of preserving - fruit not souls.
Who put that crease in your soul,
Davies, ready this fine morning
For the staid chapel, where the Book's frown
Sobers the sunlight? Who taught you to pray
And scheme at once, your eyes turning
Skyward, while your swift mind weighs
Your heifer's chances in the next town's
Fair on Thursday? Are your heart's coals
Kindled for God, or is the burning
Of your lean cheeks because you sit
Too near that girl's smouldering gaze?
Tell me, Davies, for the faint breeze
From heaven freshens and I roll in it,
Who taught you your deft poise?
(It takes one to know one. The Welsh poet R.S.Thomas started his priestly career as a church deacon.)
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