Sunday Demands.
Rain wringing out cold drops on sodden yards,
wetting Sunday-faced parents
plus ripples of special-dressed offspring shiver
while mincing upwards in
mud-spattered lines to their weekly salvation.
Built with stone-hard resign and parson ruled
cliff-top portals proffer no finery.
Blackened by season\'s salined vageries walls
where maids and their matrons
enter and kneel for sermon\'s heard warnings
burgeon with sin\'s built-in aches.
Hatted heads bow as passing dark clouds fling
showered reminders to men,
bent on repair work, know gale-flattened grain
awaits redemption from
sudden winds, cattle-full shed needs spading
and as rickety gates reel
on torn hinges believe time wastes in Sunday
attire when dire demands
out-pitch the rattle of plated coins by brisker
attention paid to maintenance.
Farm-folking labour takes precedence, save
for one holy-day when,
appetite, chapel-quenched, Sunday skirts lift
as boots skid downwards again
to kitchen heaven of savoury smells, tables
stocked in warm welcome
of ready food as kin-folk fill before venturing,
sin-cleansed, preacher-forgiven and
replete with thanks for rude health let hands
continue to weather habitual
hymn-expectations by accepted dependence
of Sunday-demands in living off land.