Thursday, September 6, 2018

Tagged under: ,

The Mission Hall

Beano Niblock with a poem about visiting the mission hall. 


In October time the hall awash with fruit and veg and loaves of bread
Harvest time is here
the font
flush with offerings
bountiful gifts and other things
tiny voices loud and clear.
At other times we sit in rows
upright with arms crossed and minds lost to scriptural thoughts and miraculous deeds
memorising the Catechism
or mastering a tricky verse
and staying mannerly for a skimpy reward.
Uncles and Aunts of the colloquial kind
with malojins and tambourines
proclaiming loudly the King of Kings
urging us tiny sinners to rejoice
with voice and hand claps
our joyous shouts filling the mission hall.
Later
with heads bowed
and eyes tightly shut or in many cases sinfully open-focusing on
an odd shaped blemish on the floor
and reciting faithfully
Our Father makes Art in Heaven
How do you know my name?


➽Beano Niblock lives and works in East Belfast. He writes drama, short stories poetry and prose. 

0 comments :