Poem: Ghosts of faithful linger

Stands like a colossus

Overlooking terraced houses

As flowers flutter outside its doors.

I wonder if people who live there now

Reflect about the congregation of long ago

Singing hymns in the Sunday morning air

Who knows, perhaps their ghosts still linger there.

I reside on a bench in Belle Vue Park

Trees hiss, leaves turn gold

A sight which fills me with awe

And stare at the imposing tower

Of the Victorian Methodist church

And as I walk past seem to hear

“Abide with me” sung with such power

From when the church had its finest hour.

Guy Fletcher

Pantmawr

Cardiff