HOLY DAYS OF OBLIGATION

 

 

We processed down Dorking Road in pairs,

about thirty of us, wearing our Sunday faces

and walking our best grown up walk.

The boys had slicked down hair

and 'stay up' grey socks,

while we wore fold creased lace veils

and almost white frocks.

 

We passed by the high Convent wall

(out of respect no one talked)

then brisklly through Roseberry Park

scuffing up dust as we walked.

St'Josephs stood silently waiting,

it's gloomy doors wide open -

                                     like a mouth.

 

Solemnly we made our wobbly genuflections

and seated ourselves in our pews,

obedently making our responses,

singing or kneeling as required,

swinging and kicking our heels as we tired.

Restless spirits caught up in an abstract ceremony

               awaiting the chance of escape.

◄ POINTLESS

WAS A.A.MILNE A TROLL? ►

Comments

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Don Matthews

Tue 16th Apr 2019 08:03

Oh that is good Dorothy.

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