Patience

Lady of the Chapel

She sits alone at the chapel gates guarding her meagre space

paper blankets line the steps, to the gates of redemption

Righteous feet pass her by, busy people nine to five

wearing Sunday faces

Every morning it’s the same, she wipes the dew from weathered hands

brushes down layers of cloth - soiled by many seasons

Beneath the rags that cover her soul a treasure

laid down for all to see

Busy people nine to five, righteous feet that passed her by

pause a moment to be in her time

Now envious eyes line the steps

waiting just to see

the summer in her eyes when she played her mandolin.

Her body frail and senses slow she said she still had a long way to go

'Many stories yet to tell my little one'

I was wrapped in the spell as I sat in her hell

The one she didn’t notice

Alley cats were having a spat, I wondered what she’d make of that

'I had two in my time' she said 'One was dark; one was light'

I asked her who won the fight

She replied through wistful eyes 'The one I fed the most'

And then one day she wasn’t there, I waited by the chapel stairs

for hours

Busy people nine to five, righteous feet passing by

turn to look at her meagre space

now it’s filled by another face

I missed our time, her gentle ways

I didn’t understand - all she’d said

Until my day of choices came and it was understood

It’s been a while since she’s been gone

but every now and then it's told

busy people nine to five , righteous feet passing by

pause a moment in their time, and it’s been said you can see

the summer in their eyes - when they hear her mandolin