LINCOLN ST FAITH'S...

Lincoln St Faith’s…

Redbrick housing:

Untidy, similar accommodation,

Cluttered about the foundations of 

‘Steep Hill’,

Whose intimate, quirky environs

Of chic boutiques

And myriad nooks,

Of tea-shops and crannies,

Of heritage and Roman occupation,

Of grandeur and magnificence,

Of its cathedral and its prominence,

Of its omnipotence and its historic consecration,

Impressed, 

Yet the base-camp depressed in its desecration…

Hidden and slotted into a stern, Victorian claustrophobia,

A solemn, austere place of worship sat;

Walls, intimidating and uninspiring

Belied a tempered interior,

Where stained glass Saints

Frowned upon a key-holder’s terrier,

Which, between rows of dull pews,

Pithered and dithered and passed wind

With relish, free from owner’s constraints

And earthly, animal restraints…

St Faith herself, depicted twice, 

Sorrow in her meek, blessed gaze,

Seemed glorious in her martyrdom,

Clutching grill and sword, her God to praise;

Head covered in one remarkable image, 

Hair in ringlets in another. And long.

Her Faith unwavering when challenged,

Her resolution stubborn and strong;

The death scene showed her kneeling in wistful prayer,

As a sword above her was wielded,

Proving her trust and love in her Christ:

And to pagan belief, St Faith never 

yielded…

Pete Ray

The dog was a West Highland Terrier and Staffordshire Bull-Terrier cross, which was, er, lovely… 

The two St Faith images in stained glass were the flanking figures in separate windows…