My Church, is a meadow of emerald
Gleaming with the nectar of foliage
bathing my eyes with wild lime delight
I tread in worship down isles of grass
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Elms, birches and maple trees that shade the church gives the poem an exotic feel.
" That raise as the steeples in arches of branches Of wood that no human craftsmen could carve ". Very true such arches and shapes, only the Supreme Craftsman could carve. Wonderful. Full score and onto myfav
Lovely poem. On nature and it's beauty. A bouquet of flowers at the altar of Goddess Nature. "
Church is nature and heaven her womb! Marvellous poem Kevin.5 stars