My church she stands on grassy mound

Raised high above the land around

Keeps vigil over town and people

In God’s own sun her spire topped steeple

Guides me home, seen from afar

More constant than the morning star

Gravestones lean against the sky

Friends and enemies in peace now lie

Bells call across the neighbouring hills

And the air with anticipation fills

As townsfolk tread the yew lined path

To old oak door, where across ages hath

The porch light burned bright

Through dusky days and God’s own night

Bibles bound in inky black leather

Bring humbled congregation together

As psalm and gospel have their reading

And hymns are sung with choir leading

Sermon from the pulpit dispensed

Congregation valiantly seek its sense

Cross stitched kneelers soften prayers

Stained glass windows contain layers

Of bejewelled truth and hidden feeling

Seen through flickering candle light’s healing

Powers on earth, and through powers above

All are drawn by His true love

Priest’s voice sounds rich as God’s own land

And holy bread on outstretched hand

Brings solace to the troubled man

Makes church his sanctuary where he can

Receive God’s blessing and find peace

In the organ’s joyous sounds, release

From the pain of daily strife

Make promises to renew his life

As words fade from the final song

A hush blankets the assembled throng

For a golden moment we stand together

With God in my church, for ever and ever

Amen