Poem: Older and wiser

Poem: Older and wiser


A small child
set to say a psalm,
standing before proud parents,
Sunday-best-dressed scholars,
kind, caring teachers
and a curious crowd of anniversary onlookers,
rolls round the words,
‘Lift up your heads, O ye gates
and be ye lifted up, you everlasting doors
and the King of Glory shall come in.
Who is this King of Glory?
The Lord of hosts,
he is the King of Glory,’
and relishes the sound
without a whit of understanding
of the words.

Continues...

©Marjorie Dobson