Friday, March 24, 2017


A bit of prose, tribute to Nigh Chapel
Submitted to Poets United Poetry Pantry
Sunday, March 26, 2017

It's gone.  The little roadside chapel of my youth.  For more than 120 years
it stood by the rambling creek, the Sunday morning gathering place of the
farm families that lived in the vicinity.  In its early days it was the center of
social activity in the surrounding rural area.  There were chicken suppers
and ice cream socials, Easter and Christmas "programs" when the
youngsters did recitations and raised their pure, sweet voices in loud (and
sometimes discordant) celebration.  For all those years, and four generations
of our family, the old Seth Thomas clock ticked away the moments, as itinerant
preachers offered up sermons based on the tenets of the Methodist Church.  It
seemed it would be there always, this cornerstone of my childhood, where the
moral values instilled by my parents were reinforced, and my faith in a higher
power came to be.  It is gone.  First closed, then destroyed in a windstorm, a
victim of the relentless march of time.   I stood in the spot where it had been,
and through a veil of tears I pictured, still, my parents and their friends passing
the time of day on the front steps.  Surely this spot is hallowed for all time,
caught forever in the memories of those of us who were fortunate enough to
be a part of Nigh Chapel.

happy memories
survive the passage of time
in this hallowed spot



  1. Beautiful memory. Thank you for sharing.

  2. Sad.You can carry the memories so all is not lost.

  3. Nothing is forever, except memories, that too as long as we live. Love the vivid details and specially love 'There were chicken suppers
    and ice cream socials, Easter and Christmas "programs"...

  4. So much memories are tied up to such a place, maybe it's those things that is the hallow.

  5. Sad, isn't it....that these wonderful places we remember from childhood are no only a memory now. But at least you have preserved it in poetry which will last forever.

  6. Bev, this church looks EXACTLY like the one I grew up in, where my grandparents went. It eventually got replaced by a bigger newer one but I always preferred the old one that felt more - holy, somehow. I do hope they dont put anything unsuitable on what must be , as you say,hallowed ground.

  7. Happy are we to be able to hold memories in dripping ink

    Much love...

  8. That march of time really is relentless, isn't it?! You've captured the emotion behind the march so clearly.

  9. Lovely. The heart and soul of an idyllic sanctuary tenderly captured. A beautifully rendered piece.

  10. Beautiful memories that no one can take away. Agree with Sherry ..hope whatever comes up retains the spirit of the community,

  11. An excellent recollection and experience.

  12. Beautifully written. It is complete in itself – and if you wanted to, you could add a haiku to make this a haibun.

    1. Thank you for the suggestion, Rosemary. I have done so.

  13. My "cornerstone of my childhood" church was purchased and used for a home. I can never get used to that.

    1. Nigh Chapel was to be moved to a nearby historic village, and was up on skids when the windstorm leveled it. I can empathize with your feeling at having your cornerstone converted to a home. We have our memories!

  14. Ah! All those memories about a place which is no longer there; it's melancholic, it's a loss in its own way.
    A lovely reminiscence and observation.

  15.'s difficult to say good bye to a place with memories...
    We say that it’s the memories and people that make a home, not the things in it or the structure itself, yet when we’re forced to leave a treasured home behind, it tugs at the heartstrings... Change is hard most of the time...Beautiful poem.

  16. How wonderful it sounds! It's hard to see old places change. I felt that way about my hometown it's totally different now with all the things I remember changed or gone now.