A pocket full of sorrow
as I rumble for some change
to light a penny candle
in a chapel solemn – strange.

I feel for generations
who on these kneelers prayed
for hope and for forgiveness
in a spiritual serenade.

At a tabernacle there is silence
behind me empty pews
no rosaries or missals
to spread that gospel news.

A priest upon the alter
bells echo in the tower
people hidden in their houses
frightened, fragile, cower.

There is trust in their religion
to whichever God revered
for hope it springs eternal
there is nothing to be feared.

Jpoet7 ( #doolan317 ) ( @wordverse.me )