Now carried on the wind above <br />The ghostly music sounds, <br />And drifting through the missing slates <br />And floating to the sky, <br />The bells forever silent there <br />No longer do they ring, <br />So few can now remember all <br />Those distant times gone by. <br /> <br />While all the homophonic chords <br />From organ's rusty pipes, <br />And echoes of the chorus now <br />Are falling on deaf ears, <br />As pigeons make their sacred nests <br />Upon the stony sills, <br />Of all the shattered windows as <br />The final amen nears. <br /> <br />And yet the spire can still be seen <br />From many miles away, <br />Its cross a fading effigy <br />Religion in decline, <br />The cracks are growing wider on <br />The tired and crumbling walls, <br />Behind the dreary fences and <br />The 'Danger Keep Out' sign.<br /><br />ANDREW BLAKEMORE<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/carried-on-the-wind/
