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Poems for the Centennial of the Brigham City Third Ward Chapel
by Leonard M Hawkes“Organist”
Born on St. Cecilia’s Day,
But she found me in the chapel;
And with heart and fingers
At twelve years old,
I learned survival;
At eighteen on the organ,
Honest worship;
And now in strength of years--
To testify.
"The Chapel"
Historical, a monument,
But very much our own—
From coal smudged boiler
In the basement back,
To the square flat roof
Of its shortened tower—
Its vista a higher broader view
Of our common life.
And we cherished it,
A gift of the grandparents,
Its heart an artful vision
Of The Vision—
Oh, how many mornings
That eastern light
Streamed through its
Colored panes—
“How Lovely was the Morning”
There made reality—
Certainty through our eyes
Now in our hearts.
"Fifteenth Ward"
Ten years—
Nine to nineteen—
Through a bishop’s eyes,
We knew the love of Home:
Main to Frog Hollow,
Second to Forth,
Brothers and sisters
Bound in the bond
Of charity.
04/29/2012 Author's Note: Three poems encapsulating my youth in the Fifteenth Ward housed in the Brigham City Third Ward Chapel.
Posted on 05/01/2012
Copyright © 2025 Leonard M Hawkes
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