I delight in the spires of Churches, <br />Pointing upwards, to the sky. <br />Stretching towards the heavens, <br />With our praises rising high. <br /> <br />They dominate the landscape, <br />Calling everyone to prayer, <br />Grey lichen covered pinnacles, <br />Of stone, layer upon layer. <br /> <br />Built back in another era, <br />They've repelled strong winds and rain, <br />Standing stalwart in their dignity, <br />So steadfast they remain. <br /> <br />Some of them, plain and simple, <br />Others show carvings so fine, <br />Each turret carved by unknown hands, <br />Beauty reflected, in these eyes of mine. <br /> <br />To look at these marvellous steeples, <br />What talent created their guise, <br />I feel a profound companionship, <br />With those Masons, who climbed to the skies. <br /> <br />I delight in the spires of Churches, <br />Their elevation just stands so supreme, <br />A wonderful tribute to the faith of man, <br />And a designer's architectural dream. <br /> <br />© Ernestine Northover<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-architectural-dream/
