“Mission Hall”
Walking down along Charles Street
A shallow canyon of shuttered shops
Seeking traces of the Pioneer Store
And the anonymous side door
Of Pastor Gardner’s
Fig Tree Gospel Hall
.
The ‘beloved’ enter through a porch
Crammed with bin bags spilling
Sweet sweat rancid jumble sale stock,
Free for all until the rag man comes.
.
The usher, a farmer
Sentries the inside door
Placed to block intruders
And the exit for backsliders
When the preaching got hot.
Standing beside a dust and varnish table
Stacked high with Authorised Bibles
He shakes every hand as he deals out missals
Well thumbed Redemption Hymnals
His banana thick fingers
Crushing the knuckles of unwary first timers.
.
A smattering of sisters in white knit hats
Sensible shoes with two inch heels
And coats and scarves against the chill
Dots the rows of wooden chairs
Unaware of the glancing stares of
Blue suited brothers wearing Burton’s best,
V neck jumpers from B.H.S.
And terylene ties noosed tight round button down necks.
.
As the Spirit moves among and melts the hearts of
His dwindling flock of ‘peculiars’
The chapel fills with breathy “Glory… Hallelujahs!”
.
Pastor breaks the spell with a “Testimony!” call
A pair of flares and leather sandals
Crumpled shirt and unkempt hair
Rises, shuffles to the front
Shame faced at first but
Spurred by expleted, “Praise the Lords!”
He tells of salacious debauchery
“Till Jesus came and rescued me.”
.
The pianist flexes knuckles and hits the keys
Gideon Gardner beams contentedly as
A dozen reedy voices in need of
“A thousand tongues to sing”
Their great redeemer’s praise are raised.
.
Pastor takes his tambourine off its peg
Beating demons from his trouser legs.
A rococo glissando trills into
“When the Roll is Called Up Yonder”
Someone segues, “If you’re happy and you know it…”
.
Hands clap, feet stamp,
The floorboards bounce
The damp walls shake.
.
The ‘Beer Off’ proprietor next door
Looks at his wife and sighs.
Sir Hermit of Cool, verily a sound visual depiction of a run down church and evangelical gusto. Works well when read aloud with the only niggle being the repeat of ‘hall’ PS I am that off-licence man! Mitch
Thanks, Mitch. You’re correcto about ‘hall’ and ‘hall’- funnily enough it was playing on my mind last night and i decided to hang fire and see what came up after sleeping – I think you might approve the ‘tentative’ rejig – I find it curious that just the change of a single word might necessitate a lotta shiftin’ 🙂 p.s. I used to go to Fig Tree – before it morphed into a Hullensian mega church following the demolition of most of Charles Street and the death of Gideon Gardner. I performed it on Sunday in a pub full of… Read more »
Yeah, I am in the process of learning to perform my own music live at 59 – no easy thing! The punters do like a chorus they can snigger along to! The rewrite is cool but I would have left the ‘beating out the demons on his thighs’ – as it hints neatly at his sordid past.
Right, Mitch, I just spent another 2 bleedin’ hours tweaking – any changes now are gonna be made in running – I etched this in stone…for now…ha ha.
Much better indeed. But – and please don’t kill me for this – is Gideon the book or the pastor? That confused me in the last 3 stanzas. Otherwise when read aloud, I think you’ve nailed it with the cadences in just the right places – I love a rococo glissando too. Last time, I was almost arrested.
There is no book of Gideon – he does appear a a character in Judges ch 6 (from memory) there are also bibles placed in hotels by the Gideons and Gideon Osborne – erstwhile Tory hotshot but that is the extent thereof Gideonwise 🙂
Glad you like rococo glissando (not near kids or public conveniences though as it can be an arresting sight) – I don’t like rhymes much but now and again ha ha
Mitch! I finally put this to bed 🙂 I hate the damned thing 🙂