The Door Copyright © Sue Ayres 2010

Arched, ancient, solid oaken hard
cold blast opening to beeswaxed perfumed air
the flicker of burning candles
cavorting in the shadows

Church awakens with a resounding thud
who knocks upon the unlocked door?
rejected man with outstretched hand
pass me the love, wine and bread

Scarecrow clothed, weather worn
haunted joyless eyes, please feed me
they silently requested
share the cup, feed my soul