A common tale of cities...

Written for  Magpie Tales

 

Set apart from the townsfolk
of Manchester,
they stand as fortresses,
remnants of an old castle,
but not as majestically
The circular columns 
brandished heavy stones,
moved with bare hands, 
by the people 
With mortar they built 
welcoming pillars for 
fellow countrymen,
a stronghold to the city,
to keep away 
certain 'ne'er do wells'
and sinister enemies
Soldiers once gathered weapons, 
fought there during the great war; 
many a winter,
grain and staples inside were stored

Early dawn draws a shroud
of dim pink fog over the village
Cow bells ring as business 
of the King begins to hum
Beasts of burden carry 
fresh wares to market 
People awake, 
leave their crowded homes 
with multiple chimneys,
trod to work or to 
the ancient towers 
as sanctuary,
where they still stand ghostly
in morning's light 
As reminders 
of the power of faith,
townsfolk make 
the daily trek, 
a distance of .5 mile, 
to pray for redemption 
and forgiveness of sins, 
to gain hope for 
better times and health
Therein 
lies their strength, having 
the will to not only survive,
but to thrive