I have decided: Finally.
My family donated me to mother church, a priest to be.
Because no one consulted me, I had no chance to disagree.
So in due course I was ordained and found I’d lost more than I gained
The church had educated me. I’d won a double first degree
My parents did what they thought best they acted in my interest.
There was no way I could protest. Though I must say I’m not impressed with the way that things were done and recently I have begun.
To realise resentfully my future was mapped out for me.
I am expected to repress the normal feelings I possess.
A problem which all priests address. I am a man no more no less.
I am quite certain that I would not have chosen the priesthood.
I have decided that I should quit the priesthood and for good
The practice of celibacy seems quite unnatural to me.
I am convinced a priest should be free to have a family.
The church has made a grave mistake expecting every priest to take
A vow which causes so much heart ache. I must resign: Make a clean break.
To earn my living honestly in some profession where I’m free
To wed and raise a family. Celibacy is not for me.
Monday,26 April 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Related quotes
Life of a Roman Catholic Priest
A priest is nearest Christ;
A priest is Christ at times;
A priest is almost Christ;
A priest is most divine.
A priest is God’s shepherd;
A priest must tend to flock;
A priest must be like ‘rock’;
A priest should ne’er defrock.
A priest communes with God;
A priest draws hope from Lord;
A priest shows love of Christ;
A priest carries His Cross!
A priest is tempted too;
A priest has falls in life;
A priest falters also;
A priest has strength from Christ.
A priestly job is tough;
A priest’s life can turn rough;
A priest has strife enough,
But has to smile and laugh!
A priest helps harvest souls;
A priest has many roles;
A priest has but one goal –
To drink from Christ’s own bowl!
Pray that more priests should come;
May priests curb their freedom;
May priest usher Kingdom;
A life for Christ’s welcome.
Fondly dedicated to Rev. Fr. Xavier Claudius,
Beloved Parish priest, ‘Holy Family Church, Perundurai
Copyright by Dr John Celes 25-7-2010
poem by John Celes
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Confession is good for the soul.
Canonised and sanitised.
The Vatican has changed its mind
Australian saint is recognised.
She blew the whistle long ago
Exposed a priestly paedophile.
Was she believed/Oh dear me no
Excommunicated, cast out
Because dared to speak the truth.
but times have changed and banished doubt..
The Vatican was in the wrong
protecting priestly paedophiles.
So now they sing a different song
The pontiff and the prelates know.
they have been caught committing crimes
Fresh scandals adding to their woe.
Reducing their authority.
Because they can no longer
hide behind facades of piety
So they create another saint
Too little and to late by far.
The church cannot escape the taint.
Perhaps it’s time to change the rules.
Why should a priest be celibate?
The general public are not fools.
I think the pontiff must accept
They got very badly wrong
When they decided to protect
The pervert priest from punishment.
Interfering with the laws
meant to protect the innocent
I do not think they can regain
the trust they secretly betrayed
Although they’ll try doubts will remain..
I’m sure the victims won’t forget
Nor do I think they will forgive
The church must recognise the debt.
And pay hard cash to compensate
The victims for their suffering
Again too little and too late.
If they had acted honestly.
They would not be in such a mess.
But sadly they chose secrecy
Wednesday,20 October 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Establishing a new precedent.
Establishing a new precedent.
On Christmas day just after lunch.
Uncle Jim’s drunk most of the punch.
Grandmas been at the gin again
Her silly giggles make that plain.
Mothers too busy washing up
to see how much booze Dad can sup.
The kids have gone their separate ways
without a single word of praise
For the preparation
their mum has single handed done.
It is the same thing every year
Nobody sees that it’s not fair.
To leave it all to poor old mum
A little help would be welcome.
At least that how it used to be
But this year Mum has broken free.
She has decided she will stay
in an hotel for Christmas day
Where she will be waited on
.She left a not to say she’s gone.
But carefully does not say where
nor when she’s coming home again.
She decided to declare
and by her action make it plain.
That in the future she must be
treated very differently.
I am quite sure the family
will realise shamefacedly.
That mothers are entitled to
expect the family to assist
When there is so much work to do.
She knows how much she will be missed.
Although she goes reluctantly
She is quite sure she is correct
to try and show the family.
That in the future she’ll expect
every one to play their part
and offer their help willingly
It’s time to make a brand new start
and treat Mum more respectfully.
This Christmas will not be much fun.
Without their Mum to supervise
the preparations won’t get done
and they will have to improvise.
A lesson that’s intended to.
Change their selfish attitude
(A lesson which is over due)
and show a little gratitude.
For all the work that mother does
But this year will be different
Without their Mum to make a fuss
Their Christmas day a non event.
Because their mum decided they.
Did not appreciate that she
deserved a restful Christmas Day
the way a Christmas day should be
Perhaps next year they would decide
they should dine out on Christmas day.
To make quite sure Mum was satisfied
and could enjoy her restful day.
Now Mum has registered her protest.
Much to the family’s surprise.
They will decide it’s for the best
and be prepared to compromise.
Monday,21 December 2009.
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The vow of celibacy is a matter of keeping one's word to Christ and the Church. a duty and a proof of the priest's inner maturity; it is the expression of his personal dignity.
quote by Pope John Paul II
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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‘holy Family Church House-warming, Perundurai, T.n.’
Excerpt from Dr John Celes’ Welcome Speech
(to be held on 05-02-2010)
The Shepherd comes to meet his flock,
And bless the church that’s newly built,
Wherein an older church had stood on rock –
A sacred ground of prayer for Catholics!
Let’s welcome him; let’s welcome him, ye sheep!
He brings with him his staff that protects us;
This is the time our hearts with joy must weep;
The anointing will give us greater bliss.
Let’s thank the Lord for giving us this house
Of prayer to worship the ‘King of kings’;
Let everyone take Jesus Christ as spouse,
And tread the road to heaven as earthlings.
The Church though small looks splendidly laid out;
It has been christened ‘Holy Family Church’;
Our parish is a small one without doubt,
Nevertheless, peeps in internet-search!
The flock is one led by our parish priest,
Father Claudius, a dynamic, young man!
Who works hard without mistakes in the least;
‘May God give him good health and long life-span! ’
Our heart-felt thanks to Bishop and all souls
Who gave the land for building the new Church;
Our hearty thanks to all who played new roles,
And doled the sums that can now help to preach.
God made it possible to build His house!
Let’s worship Him with masses, hymns and pray;
Let’s reach the world at the click of a mouse!
And preach the Word of God by night and day.
We thank You God for giving us this place,
And worship Jesus Christ, as a family;
Let sweat of foreheads reinforce this base,
And help to rear this provident LILY!
Dedicated to: The Most. Rev. Dr. Thomas Aquinas M.A., DCL.,
Bishop of Coimbatore diocese
Rev. Fr. Xavier Claudius, the Parish priest and
All parishners of ‘Holy Family Church, Perundurai, T.N., ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-11-2010
poem by John Celes
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I have a family! !
I have a family
My ancestry a mystery
I was abandoned as a child.
I had no family history.
To which I am now reconciled.
From nursery to children’s home
Until I was adopted by
A couple who made me welcome
With whom I lived quite happily.
They had three children of their own
Who readily accepted me?
An orphan parentage unknown
Addition to their family.
I had three sisters instantly
And better still a mum and Dad.
Who had especially chosen me
to be their only little lad.
I vowed to make them proud of me
I studied hard did well at school.
Then on to university.
I showed the world I was no fool.
I’m a successful businessman
My Family is quite proud of me
which only goes to show you can
overcome successfully.
With the support of family
the problems which you have to face.
To become what you want to
and be a winner in life’s race.
My mum and dad mean more to me
than accolade I may earn.
They fed and clothed and nurtured me
now I support them in my turn
An orphan boy who they took in.
They raised me as their only son
with loving care and discipline
I think I was the lucky one.
They say success is down to me
That I worked to make my way
but we agree to disagree
I love them more than I can say.
4-Sep-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Not even a knight bannarette.
Not even a knight bannerette.
Today some wannabees long to be
part of the aristocracy.
So they research their family tree
in search of noble ancestry.
They’re quite prepared to spend their brass
to prove that they are upper class.
I’m sad to say that most; alas
Find ancestors they’d rather pass
Although they hope they rarely find.
The noble blood they have in mind.
But plenty of the common kind.
The family legend’s undermined.
Eventually they realise.
The family legend’s based on lies.
Monday,16 August 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Personal Preference
Prudence acted prudently.
She valued her virginity,
Unlike her fellow student Pearl
who chose to be a party girl.
Prudence was prepared to wait
until she changed her single state
She much preferred matrimony
Although her friend did not agree.
Pearl was convinced life should be fun
Had no regrets for what she’d done
In fact believed her way of life
would make her a much better wife.
When she was ready to get wed.
At least when asked that’s what she said.
Which one was right I do not know
that’s something only time will show.
Prudence chose to remain chaste.
Pearl thought celibacy a waste.
Both could be right quite possibly
What right have I to disagree.
12/07/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Maryknoll
Women priests are not allowed no matter how loud they scream,
They fired one priest already for going along with their dream,
So the Catholic Church takes this serious and no women priests allowed,
Though some priests may have been pedophiles; this is never said out loud.
Some Maryknoll fathers and brothers liked this women-priest notion,
They didn't realize this idea would cause such a commotion,
Though the Church of England has had women priests for years,
And some of them may one day be bishops without many fears.
I don't know much about this whole religious painful affair,
But I think it's time for a change in the real world out there,
This is the twenty first century with the Internet all around,
Not the fifteenth century where we had to knuckle down.
poem by James Bredin
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Catholic Priesthood and ‘Year of the Priests’
‘The sheep are calling;
The flocks are swelling;
Good shepherds are a dearth,
Upon the mighty earth! ’
All sheep need good shepherds;
Sans shepherds good, they are mere herds,
That cannot find the pastures green,
With grass that’s fit on global scene.
Good shepherds know each sheep by name;
They do not work for pay or fame;
They know the wolf’s, many a game;
Their staff protects the sheep that’s lame!
Priests are the good shepherds of God;
They woo the souls away from rod;
They serve by being celibate,
And show humanity, God’s Gate.
They say the Holy Mass each day;
They preach and fast, fervently pray;
They drive the devils out, away,
Suffer for Jesus, come what may!
They change bread to body of Christ;
They change the wine to blood of Christ;
They forgive sins like Jesus Lord;
They tell the world the Divine Word.
Priesthood is one of sacraments;
Priests know the Old, New Testaments;
Their work is worth more than all gold;
They bring more souls unto God’s fold!
This is the ‘Year of Catholic priest’.
Lord Jesus waits with His great Feast;
Happy are souls, even the least;
God saves all sinners from the Beast.
Priests take vows for a divine role –
To lead souls to God’s Abode – goal.
Those worldly ones are merely fools!
God chooses priests to be pure souls.
‘Priesthood is passion great for Christ –
The profession that’s one highest;
The goal of men who are wisest –
Who live for Jesus’ sake, diest.’
Dedicated to all Catholic Priests world-over,
On behalf of ‘Holy Family Church Parish, Perundurai, TN, India.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 28-6-2009
poem by John Celes
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Sex & The Church
Though the idea of compassion
Is said to be
The union of christ
And his bride, the christian
Its all very puzzling
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
All the great mystic religions
Put strong emphasis, on
Redeame this spiritual qualities
Of sex of sex
Chrstianity
Has been pretty modern
About sex
Of sex of sex of sex of sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
I think there is a union
Between the flesh and the spirit
Its sex and the church
Sex and the church
All religions mother
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Give me youre freedom of spirit
And the joys of the flesh
Of sex sex sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
And the church
And the church
Sex sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
Sex
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex and the church
Sex sex
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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2 Timothy 1: 7
What I have
I Love my Family 'I have a sound mind'
I Like Luciano Pavarotti
even though.I don't speak a word of italian 'I have a sound mind'
I love my family even though none of us had a choice in the picking :)
I Love my church family............ 'I have a sound mind'
I like the motto of the church on 1212 Hendrick called Faith Fellowship Baptist
Church.
'if the bible says, we believe it'
I Love Jesus, my family, friends and I have a sound mind.
I know God has wonderful things in store for me from this time forward!
'I have a sound mind'
poem by Sylvia Loven Carter
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The Signalman
I see him as the signalman
On the unseen tracks of time
A family priest for all of us-
As we travel down the line.
Railway stations made him blue
When he was young and leaving home-
I wonder if it was his Signalman
That for so long kept him going? .
He taught the boys of Wexford
By the Barrow in New Ross
And at a later time the Déise lads
In Dungarvan’s lovely town;
A chaplin in Dublin's Liberties
Now in Limerick nearer home;
The road that led to his priesthood
Had earlier started off in Rome.
In his vestments with a bell of brass
Before the quarter past eleven mass,
Ringing out “Come all ye within”
To that little hospital Chapel
That always has been dear to him.
Augustine's''Lord we are restless''
''Until we rest with Thee''
He quoted freely at his Golden Jubilee.
He has always been our signalman
Along the unseen tracks of time:
A family priest for everyone
As we are travelling down the line.
poem by Matt Mooney
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The Sacrifice storypoem
She wore a robe so white and thin
that it enhanced her nakedness.
Made of the silk which spiders spin
Epitome of gracefulness
Her hair as black as ebony,
contrasting with her rose gold skin.
Which unrestrained was flowing free
She glowed as though she had within,
her slender form of flesh and blood.
A light that would illuminate
the darkness of the world and would
without a doubt propitiate.
The Gods demanding sacrifice.
According to the High Priests rede,
only a virgin would suffice.
To satisfy his dark Gods need.
The clan believed his rede was true
And so she went quite willingly.
To pay the God What he was due
ad so ensure fertility.
of flocks and crops, increase their yield.
Improve the clan’s prosperity
In truth the High Priests rede concealed
his innate taste for cruelty.
She lay upon the altar stone
and showed no slightest sign of fear.
The high Priest bared his blade of bone
and then although the sky was clear.
A bolt of lightning from the blue
struck down the priest as he deserved.
The Goddess had decided to
insist her rules should be observed.
The maiden lived and she became
in course of time the high priestess.
She governed in the goddess’ name
Rewarded for her faithfulness.
The wicked high priest had to die
because he had led the clan astray.
A truth that no one can deny.
The high priestess would lead the way.
The Goddess would protect the clan
as long as they obeyed her laws.
Though she would strike dead any man
whose bad behaviour gave her cause.
The Mother Goddess would supply
sufficient for her children’s need.
As long as they lived righteously
and followed her High Priestess’ lead
The willing sacrifice became
the chosen of the true Goddess
and now held power in her name.
Authority to curse or bless.
She serves her clan still faithfully
as she was always willing to
Speaks for the Goddess honestly,
does as the Goddess bids her do.
Willing to die to serve her clan.
The Goddess decreed that she should live
to implement the goddess’ plan.
And claimed the life she chose to give.
She’d live a life of servitude
as guardian of the sacred lore.
A mother to the multitude
who looked to her to keep the law.
Chosen to be a sacrifice
Which she accepted willingly
the goddess changed things in a trice
which she could do quite easily.
Though she would sacrifice her life
to serve the clan for all her days.
Forgo the chance to be a wife
to follow in the goddess’ ways.
6-Dec-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Gone Astray a rant
Gone Astray
A solemn silence fills the space
contained with cathedral walls.
A sanctuary filled with grace
But over it a shadow falls
There are few worshippers today
and they’re engaged in private prayer.
Although the tourists make their way
to see the wonders which are there.
They gladly pay the entrance fee
a charge imposed to help defray
the maintenance that has to be
paid for. This is the only way.
the church authorities can find
the funds which are necessary.
Although the ancient rules defined
access to worship should be free.
The churches now are businesses
and not what they were meant be.
It seems religion matters less
to the presiding hierarchy.
Than making profits to maintain
these symbols of authority.
Although the signs are very plain
Because they do not want to see.
That piety has less to do
with structures glorifying God.
Provided by the wealthy few.
Who did not think it at all odd.
To see this as their entry fee
to buy a place in paradise
A triumph for hypocrisy.
I think today we are more wise.
No longer ruled by the dead hand
of church enforced religious laws.
We are entitled to demand
the church must find a different course.
The world has changed and so must they
We aren’t required to obey
church leaders who have lost their way.
And do not meet our needs today.
It matters not which creed you choose
they do not practice what they preach.
Their teachings are of little use
If they don’t believe what they teach.
Intolerance and bigotry
Fostered by narrow minded priests
are prevalent it seems to me.
Truth does not matter in the least
21-Nov-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Eyes: those tragic eyes,
It was her eyes, those tragic eyes
The saddest eyes I ever saw.
That made me start to realise.
The price that children pay for war.
Those eyes had seen brutalities
no innocent should ever see
She haunted still by memories
from which I fear she can’t break free.
I look into her eyes and see
that she expects nothing from me.
She has no hope that there might be
an ending to her misery.
Although I know I’m not to blame
I still feel guilty all the same.
Though we protest our innocence
in our attempts to rationalise.
What can we say in self defence.
That is not based on blatant lies.
It makes me frankly furious
that innocents should suffer so
The guilt belongs to all of us.
We can’t pretend we did not know
That we should learn from history
instead of choosing to ignore
Because we do not want to see.
There are no winners in a war.
I can’t forget those empty eyes
They’ll haunt me ‘til the day I die.
Monday,08 November 2010
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Your Choice story poem
My cause was just I could fulfil
a life long dream, an urge to kill.
An urge I knew I must resist
by application of my will.
Circumstances alter cases.
I planned my action on this basis.
All paedophiles deserve to die
Just disappear and leave no traces.
My chosen victim was beast.
Who masqueraded as a priest
and preyed upon young choirboys
He’s missing now presumed deceased.
I groomed my victim carefully.
Confessed that I had frequently
had unclean thoughts about small boys.
The priest absolved me readily.
In me he thought he’d found a friend.
A man on whom he could depend
to keep a still tongue in his head.
His own perversions to defend.
But he was wrong in his belief.
He was remarkably naïf
He thought his cloth protected him.
A fact that brought me much relief.
I told him that I belonged to
a private club know to but few.
Men who shared our interest.
When next I went he could come too..
The trap was set now I would
wait for him to nibble at the bait
I knew that he could not resist
He was hardened deviate.
It was arranged that we should go.
Quite separately so none would know.
He thought it best to be discreet
and I agreed it should be so.
We reached the chosen rendevous.
He was surprised we were but two
and even more surprised to find
just what it was I meant to do.
I did not hesitate or pause
I took his life without remorse.
An old pit shaft his resting place
where none will look for him of course.
The priest would simply disappear
for reasons which will be quite clear.
When his perversions come to light
He was afraid to linger here.
His sins recorded faithfully
in grim detail on his P.C,
Another scandal for the church
will come to light for all to see
For many reasons he would leave
they would quite easily believe.
That he just lost his nerve and fled.
When from his P.C they retrieve.
The photographic evidence.
Undoubtedly it will incense
The men who must investigate
his sudden disappearance.
Their first thought will be suicide
because he has no place to hide
Their search will be desultory
They won’t treat it as homicide.
By killing him I’ve satisfied
The life long dream I’ve had to hide.
The beast has paid the penalty.
I think his death was justified.
It could be that this tale is true
So I will leave it up to you
my gentle reader to decide
You can believe what you want to.
8-Jun-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Redirected
The Phantom spoke. He said repent.
I replied I’m innocent.
The Phantom spoke again annoyed
You must repent or be destroyed.
I can’t repent what I’ve not done
I think my friend you should begone
You seem to have your wires crossed.
It seems to me you have got lost
I am Mother Superior.
I’m not who you are looking for
Why don’t you try the Vatican
where if you try I’m sure you can
find many there in residence.
Though they protest their innocence
Evil men, so called priests
who have behaved like rutting beasts.
Protected by the Mother Church
Which has obstructed every search
Misuse of power to delay
every attempt to make them pay.
The Phantom groaned, apologised
confessed he had been ill advised
and would go to investigate.
The Holy See, The city state.
I understand he is there still
his sacred duties to fulfil.
I rather think that he will be
kept busy for eternity.
25/06/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Mystery Remains story poem
By my lanthorn dimly burning.
I have trouble in discerning
the faint words scrawled upon the page
By the hand of a long dead sage.
What I study is forbidden
a secret I must keep hidden.
I dare not study it by day
and that is why I hide away.
In the dark hours of the night.
I study by a lanthorns light.
Lest the priesthood should suspect.
For they would kill me to protect
from what they see as wizardry
although it’s only chemistry.
The shaveling priests of Mother Church
have full authority to search.
As and when and where they choose
.a power open to abuse
And they abuse it readily
in their search for men like me.
Men who defy authority,
pursue their studies secretly.
The church pretends to safeguard souls
but aims to keep in place controls.
Which keep the people ignorant
so that they will accept the cant.
The falsehoods and hypocrisy
of the priests more easily.
The common man must never know.
Because the church will have it so.
That education is the key
to knowledge which will set them free.
From religious domination.
To me a foul abomination.
The Holy Book from which they preach
written in a language will do not teach
To any but the favoured few
Who think the same way that they do.
Which will maintain the Status Quo
beneath the piety they show.
I am convinced that in due course
The population will enforce
the will of the majority
And strip them of authority.
Award all men the liberty
to study what they want to openly.
I know too well if I am caught
my labours will have been for naught
Though I must study secretly
I hide my records carefully.
Perhaps one day someone will find
the writings which I leave behind.
I was betrayed so I must die
but I will die with head held high.
Accused of practising magic
they’ll burn me as a heretic.
The papers I hid secretly
lie waiting for discovery.
By some scholar of a future time
When learning is not seen as crime.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.
I found this manuscript by chance
and thought it worth a second glance.
My hobby is church history.
I can’t resist a mystery.
Although the parchment was fragile
and written in an archaic style.
Some parts of it I could translate
sufficient to appreciate..
This document deserved to be
translated more efficiently.
By someone who could understand
old manuscripts written by hand.
So I enlisted expert aid.
A scholar of the highest grade
from Oxford university
to solve the mystery for me.
It caught the scholar’s interest
and easily passed every test.
To prove it was no forgery.
Which was of little help to me.
Although the scholar could translate
there was no way that he could state.
The dead authors identity
which must remain a mystery.
A fact which disappointed me.
Alhough I gladly paid his fee.
I would much rather that I knew
who we could ascribe it to.
I must accept we’ll never know
who wrote these word so long ago.
Because he failed to sign his name.
He is denied his well earned fame.
His careful notes on alchemy
though hidden from his enemy.
Have formed the basis of research
which can’t be repressed by the church.
As it was in the distant past
before the people over cast
the dead hand of the Holy See
and achieved their liberty
15/04/2009
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15/04/2009
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The curate had the grace to blush
The young curate grew quite harassed
discussing sexuality.
Because he was so embarrased
Although he tried quite doggedly.
When questioned on conjugal rights.
By a young lady to be wed
He tried to be so definite
of duties which pertained to bed.
He stated blithely that a man
had appetites he must fulfil
What rights she asked, had the woman?
The question was beyond his skill.
He only knew what he’d been taught.
Naïve and inexperienced
He did not have a stock retort
and what he said made little sense.
He thought he’d better call a halt.
Refer the lady to the priest
and readily admit his fault.
It did not matter in the least.
The priest could only say the same
relying on the churches rule
He too had never played the game
which left him looking like a fool
The question was legitimate
Why should only men have rights
and women submit to their mate.
She rightly thought would lead to fights.
Neither of them could satisfy
the lady’s curiosity
and she was left to wonder why.
The church favoured celibacy.
You can’t advise if you don’t know
the subject you are asked about.
Which to the lady served to show
the churches failings without doubt.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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