Hidden in the Long walk

Hidden in the long walk
Is the sight of Mary’s tree

The farm house
Borne with sheepish gilt

Its splendour is enough
To carry my weary coat

Pleasing, I would hurry my feet
In the soaked wind

Bend my knees
In the thornful leaves

Prepare a bed for me,
An eternal night, where I would savour
The bread and milk

Save my breast, by the
Lady’s seat

Where I would contemplate
Till I’m dead
The heavenly three

In Loving honour of the woman, the Mother of Christ, in whom I contemplate her life, her whole essence. Save me your heart!

MO.

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About Michael Ogundele

A writer, ardent reader and lover of nature. fell in love with writing five years back and I've been engraved in her arms ever since. I share my little way of writing poetry and reflections based on Catholic faith and Spirituality on this space. I hope you enjoy reading as we ride the same chariot to the leafy greens. Do follow me and together, let us jump into the ocean of my ink.
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One Response to Hidden in the Long walk

  1. Pingback: Hidden in the Long walk | Christians Anonymous

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