Angels on high

History hidden within its walls
Faded leather kneelers
A rosary beads, missal
Signs of prayer.

Framed stained glass windows
Rays of hope in morning’s light
Angels on high, special
to those who worshipped there.

In the gallery an organ now silent
The wedding march as grooms fidgeted
Nervously awaiting their bride
Memories of a festive past.

Sign of the cross, bowed foreheads Incense lingering in the air
Coffin ornate golden handles
History etched in a church graveyard.

The alter rails where we as children
Knelt nervously at our first communion.
“Father forgive me for I have sinned”
The confessional, fear the fires of hell.

An angelus bell rings forlorn
A priest on an alter high
Awaits a congregation
That passes by.

Jpoet7 ( wordverse.me )