Church Times

A revised version of a poem published recently. Forgive me, but there were some small things I needed to change.

Church Times


The church that chimes the times that change

Cherished those who were once called wise

And, in defining the hour within earshot range

Gave succour to those who searched the skies

For signs of sun or moon or star

To fix an object near or far


Later, trains travelled on rusty rails

Respecting the time from whence they departed

Yet delivered their cargo to ships with sails

Arriving, yet, before loading had started

Tides were sailors’ own favoured clocks

Even when tracks brought goods to docks


And still there are those who rely on the moon

To tell them when and what to pray

They will not start a minute too soon

As only the ordained dare define the day

Descending to the depths of ancient ritual

To find the source of the sacred and spiritual


O! bless the present and priestly enlightened

And those of the past who gave preference to science

Over manipulating the masses, those easily frightened

Or treating as fact what was poetic licence

Reading books by oil lamp in darkened room

Rejecting the threats of the mongers of doom


Now we can be armed on wrists with watches

Some connected to satellites made by man

No longer counting on wood-scraped notches

Pursuing technology’s permanent plan

To enhance our lives – for better or worse

Filling the public or private purse


As we walk by churchyard and hear that sound

We should wonder what is the current meaning

Of the noise of the bells that the graves surround

New stones upright and old ones leaning

To some of us it may seem so strange

That the church still chimes the times that change