My contribution to Poetry Week : A poem conceived in the quiet of a church service, anticipating “shock and awe” ahead.

 A confirmation service in middle England – on the eve of war.

The sun streams through stained glass

Whilst the United Nations

Remains at impasse. 

The saints gazed sympathetically

Upon the massed ranks

Of the well to do

Whilst in the Azores

Various – mostly closing – diplomatic doors

Were slamming, presidentially.

The Bishop’s deputy gave a pleasant homily

About joining the Bread of Life dining club

Whilst many a distracted family

Were eagerly awaiting

Sunday lunch in a riverside pub.

The fashion sense at this august gathering

Left little to the imagination

I was not aware that mink draped over the shoulder

Remained in style

Only serving confirmation

That God, perhaps,

Maybe for a little while

Had popped out of the building.

And amidst the prayers for peace and justice

The threat and tumour

Of impending war

As was

Is ever now.

Just is.