I went into a church last night, just to shelter from the rain,
And something happened to me, which I really can’t explain.
The visit somehow lifted me; I never thought it would,
So I’m definitely going back, I know it did me good.

I opened up the heavy door; it creaked as I went through
And my footsteps echoed loudly till I sat down in a pew.
The place was almost empty; the light was very dim,
And the organist was practising a rather dreary hymn.
A workman on a ladder was fixing up a lamp
And I caught the scent of candle wax and years of rising damp.
A lady in an overall was polishing the floor
And the buzz of evening traffic could be heard beyond the door.
No one paid attention to the fact that I was there,
But it seemed like I was being watched and I couldn’t tell from where!
I felt a kind of presence, which is really rather odd,
Because I’m not religious and I don’t believe in god!
I remembered when I was a child and went to church each week,
I’d sit between my parents trying so hard not to speak.
They were always telling me to hush and I used to get so bored,
But when the service finished I’d rejoice and praise the Lord!
When I got a little older, they decided I could sing,
So they sent me off to join the choir, it seemed the proper thing.
I did enjoy the music and the tunes I still recall,
It was all the other boring stuff that drove me up the wall!

So, in between the singing we choirboys had some fun,
We’d whisper jokes and pass around rude drawings we had done.
Then the wrath of the choirmaster would descend upon his boys,
He’d fine us threepence afterwards for making too much noise!
The sermons were so tedious it was hard to pass the time,
We used to read our comics because yawning was a crime,
The “Beano” and the “Dandy” and any we could find,
We used to get “The Eagle” from the tenors, just behind.

The vicar said the stuff we read would lead us straight to hell,
But I discovered later: he was reading them as well!
I found him in the vestry with a copy of “Chicks’ Own”,
He didn’t hear me coming so he thought he was alone.
He didn’t look his usual age; he had a boyish grin,
And was obviously embarrassed when he saw that I’d walked in.
He started mumbling something about cleaning up the place
And threw the comic in the bin, you should have seen his face!
I know he didn’t buy it! It was simply left behind
By a member of the choir with an undeveloped mind!

Then I heard an echo in that church, which brought me back to earth,
And I realised, while remembering, I’d guffawed in my mirth!
The organ had stopped playing and the faces looked at me,
I felt just like a naughty boy, the way I used to be!
I bowed my head as though in prayer and tried to look devout,
And then I heard that still, small voice, ‘They’re going to chuck you out!’
Oh! I hope that it’s stopped raining; I’d hate to get home wet ---
But nothing else was said or done; I had no cause to fret.

So I’m going to that church again, the atmosphere was great,
It really is the perfect place to sit and meditate.
I’ll get the times of services and then I’ll know for sure,
What time to get there so I’ll miss that bunk I can’t endure!

John Ward
October 2004