Skyfall


I am back to the search
returning to this long
forgotten Methodist
church of my early days
where I ****** on gobstoppers
as the host sang his praise

It was a mystical thing for a man
but a King would have adored it

and it was stored in my memory
the Sunday service we weren't
allowed to miss,
Mum said, penny for the collection mind
and
if I find you bought sweets you'll be for it,

as I recall
I often was.

This is the compost of ghosts
the tip,
the refuse that refuses to go
I dig my way through to
those that I knew
Sunday
so long ago.