Skip to main content

Beside a chapel I'd a room looked down,
Where all the women from the farms and town,
On Holy-days, and Sundays used to pass
To marriages, and Christenings and to Mass.

Then I sat lonely watching score and score,
Till I turned jealous of the Lord next door…
Now by this window, where there's none can see,
The Lord God's jealous of yourself and me.

Rate this poem
No votes yet
Reviews
No reviews yet.