In a darkened church
hard by the dusky nave,
a brass lectern’s perched
with blue Chi-Rho engraved.

It faces to a reddened west,
its golden sheen aglow,
by light of candles blessed
as darkness ’round us grows.

Above the tall stone spires
dim stars come peeping out
to shine down on the quire
and the small knot of the devout.

We few sit as the gloom
grows deeper all around
and let ourselves be not consumed
by the chaos that abounds.

Once our Evensong is sung
for our time that slips us by,
a last brass bell is rung
as we hope for dawn’s reply.

She's my Eden, an endless waterfall ,
Sourced from the sky.

Shes my oasis, a distant lake I escape to,
Where eternal sunsets shine vermillion.

She looks at me with eyes,
That caress my soul and soothe my burning shame.

She's my evensong, my last shining light,
The receding tide, eternal Eventide.

And years from now her eyes,
Shall read these words and she'll turn away
From the bus that would take her far from here.

She will come back to being
Both my shadow and my soul.