Michael Edwards




A troubled man not often met,

with brow in concertina folds

expressing notes of private angst

which play within his darkest church.


And solace found in company

with parties to the claret jug,

as spirits rise by their prescription

fain to garner wise divines


Back in chill of honeyed stone,

where shafts of piercing sun break through

the stained glass images on high

and swathe the man in chancel light. 


Michael Edwards © November 2015



  • WriteBeLight

    Very vivid poem and I like the artwork.

  • willyweed

    smooth in sight and sound ww

  • Augustus

    Truly troubled. So nicely written. I love the word chancel. I was not familiar with it.

  • Michael Edwards

    Thanks all for taking the trouble to comment - it is another of my more serious pieces - I also write lighter items so will post something a little less heavy tomorrow.

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