A Winter's Eucharist (London, 1990)

It always annoys me when I recall a poem of mine, and Google it only to find that it is posted nowhere on the internet.  So, I will be posting some of these "missing" poems here, in order that I'll be able to find them more easily should I ever decide to publish my first volume of poetry.

This one is from 1993, about my trip to St. Paul's, London, in 1990.  A word about the unique form.  It is the invention of my Anglican friend Russ Smith.  The form requires 80 syllables in total.  It is first written as ten lines eight syllables, and then as eight lines of ten syllables, and each pair of consecutive lines must rhyme in each presentation.  Trickier than you might think!


A Winter's Eucharist (London, 1990)

A winter's Eucharist I took

At noon, with Cranmer's little book

My fork and spoon to eat the bread

Of heaven as we sung and read,

The blood of Jesus on my tongue.

St. Paul's Cathedral round me rung

With late echoes of Donne and Wren.

How very great our God is then

Who on His wise wheel spun the sun,

As well as Messrs. Wren and Donne!

A winter's Eucharist I took at noon, 

With Cranmer's little book my fork and spoon 

To eat the bread of heaven as we sung  --

(And red the blood of Jesus on my tongue).

St. Paul's Cathedral round me rung with late

Echoes of Donne and Wren.  How very great

Our God is then who on His wise wheel spun 

The sun, as well as Messrs. Wren and Donne!

 © 1993, Paul Erlandson