The little church was standing, silent on the hill
It`s woodwork old & rotting, doors bang to at will
The old bell tower was cracking, the bell it had no rope
To call the folk to church with it you did not have a hope
The seats were broke & splintered, timber all mildew
Holes in Backs & bottoms, you could fall right through
The graveyard long deserted, the vicar slept within
Although in church his missing, it did not seem a sin
As I stood there just looking wondering what to do
A shaft of light shone over me, & seemed to pass right through
I felt a mighty presence, my soul it cried out loud
I knew the lord was kind to me & then my head I bowed
The moral of the story, though it`s crumbling like a clod
In this little old church, you are always close to God.
A. Ed Bollington
I came upon this little church in Dorothy on the final leg of my journey home...it was perched on a hill over looking the remnants of an old brow-beaten town...tumbleweeds, sage & swallows.
Click on the Dorothy link above to read all about this church & the pioneer ghost town it resides in.
Click on the Dorothy link above to read all about this church & the pioneer ghost town it resides in.
Gopher holes are treacherous...when taking photos...try to watch where your walking...or you`ll end up on your ass like I did...legs & arms sprawled all akimbo...holding my ankle...biting my lip trying not to swear...camera was OK...that's a good thing!
Next post...we go to a wild west saloon.
Till then...
Susan
Posts
