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Our Lady and the Priest
By Kate Watkins Furman
21st CenturyWas on one cold dark winter's night
When fell a gentle rain,
I sat, alone, to rest inside
St. Katharine's Church in Wayne.
And where Our Lady stands against
The granite wall of gray,
There walked into the chapel light
A priest who came to pray.
His long black dress was trimmed in red
His face was sweet and fair,
With love, he asked her for her grace
And holy was his prayer.
He gazed into his Mother's face
And prayed the longest while,
There taking from the Mystic Rose
The blessing of her smile.
And in my heart I surely knew
As true as truth could be,
The holy prayer he whispered there
Was said for you and me.
DayPoems Poem No. 2320
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