MY ST PAUL'S
One hundred and forty years ago
on a clearing of ground
built for the sum
of seven thousand and forty pound
a church was created
but not just from stone.
From the good local people
who made it their own,
a place built for them,
for their family and friends.
They would gather to worship at St. Paul's.
When I was little
I clearly remember
attending Children's Church
as a Sunday School member.
Sunday based friendships
would easily begin
over singing songs
and colouring in.
The old folks would mutter
as I ran round like a nutter.
I would go to have fun at St. Paul's.
The old church would sometimes
need the odd job doing,
maybe gardening in the churchyard
or putting the odd screw in.
My Grandpa would oblige
and help without pay.
I'd go there to help him although I was usually in the way.
On Saturday afternoon
I'd pass him the tools.
I'd go and see my grandpa at St, Paul's.
Some years later
as pre-teens we knew it all,
me and my mates
were the trendiest guys at St. Paul's.
We'd talk about football
the Albion's latest tactics.
We were always the best
at amateur dramatics.
Even though it wasn't 'cool'
we still loved Sunday School.
I'd hang out with my mates at St. Paul's.
As a young man
I saw him go,
under the great
stained glass window.
I wept mourning tears,
I cried with my Nan,
to see that wooden box
the funeral of a man.
I struggled to understand
as I held my Dad's hand.
I said goodbye to Grandpa at St. Paul's.
Shuffling nervously
not knowing what to do,
pacing the aisle
in my posh suit and shoes
with the sun shining through
that stained glass window above.
Standing before God we declared our love.
I'd had to wait
as the bride's car was late.
I married my love at St. Paul's.
Now I'm grown up
I'm a father to be.
I know very well
what this church means to me.
Not just a place
to gather and pray
but a spiritual stage
on which we all play.
For the stories it makes
and the role that it takes,
I'll be bringing my children to St. Paul's.
Daniel Jones
