1689 c/o Ben Parker

Autobiography 1689

I open my doors to the rhapsody
of summer air, to a land dressed in gilt
and verdigris, and to friends sat silent
in expectant waiting. Our church, not high

nor closed, is pure and as true as the hay.
The simple room’s active hush, Inner Light,
thanksgiving for the work of the Valiant
founders. By these we fight apostasy.

Though the year sings towards amber, our
dress in its diurnal plainness avoids
the distractions of fashion, the fire

of jewellery and adornment. Our greys
and whites are symbols enough of belief:
Christ has come to teach His people Himself.