St Mary and St John-Kirkley.

St Peter and St John-Kirkley.
In Suffolk quite near to the coast-is the amalgamated church of St Peter and St John,
alas `building John` became redundant, so it`s here that sacred worship carries on,
out in the little rustic church yard where former loyal congregations, very still now do lie,
in everlasting deep slumber which we all will inherit, as our physical form will one day die,
their tasks done tenaciously and with dexterity as they served in this hallowed place,
ev`ry cherished Holy moment committed to worship, ultimately relying on God’s grace.
The grave stones now are bent (leaning) over as some patrons were, advancing in years,
life for all is finite, but  death presents immortality and has no space, time limit or  fears.
The cold stone floor where many righteous feet dutifully have before trod,
sanctuary bound, to receive the unction that they could only get from God,
the ancient pews where our ancestors pondered and considered their daily plight,
the plaques on the wall-commemorating those who strove long and daily in fight.
Lofty Norman brick archways, with columns of beauteous splendour, simple yet
the craftsman’s vision of tranquillity and dignity in this house of God surely met?
Stained glass windows with leaded partition, scriptural scenes portrayed in mortal hues
reflect, but never equal, the Maker’s  diversity of colours, the reds, whites and the blues.
The sanctuary with plain solemnity yet the sacred act that regularly happens just here,
with the fruit of the vine and `manna`-and the realisation that Jesus Christ is ever near,
He died for us and hung on that bare tree-so that testament’s prophecy was fulfilled,
the simplicity he taught throughout his own short life and the  sure wisdom he instilled.
`The Sacrificial Lamb`-God`s precious only son, in lowly human form, to dwell he came,
us all to save, living in humble surround yet so great and lasting his subsequent  fame.

A lovely ornate cast iron rood, severs congregation and clergy ritual assumption,
the issuing of the word from upon high-heralds the final implied majestic consumption,
the sacred portal to the holy table evoking visions where the Christ, last supper gave,
then all join in this solemn act of communion coming together in the sanctuary brave.
The fine stone pulpit, the place of homily made many sermon preached o`er the years,
wonders explained  and many issues suitably pondered, that were previously fears.
The acts of the Apostles, in that far off land-now over two millennium have passed,
like the near rolling sea and it’s regular tides, time keeps being steadily  amassed,
The high wooden roof with ancient beam in appropriate place and windows elevated,
further testament to the King of Kings-high is this  `crown` even though `man created. `
The solemn service, it’s responses and the odour of purification in incense freely blown-
 in this church the everlasting redemption of the soul is assured with  due promise sewn,
the Apsidal baptistery-an unusual feature glows an absolute gem in this jewelled surround
echoes times of yore an era, now sadly gone by, past endeavours everywhere do abound.
                               
Stands restored perpendicular tower with its square form stands anchored fast,
 four `sentinels` in each corner stand to attention like a sail ship’s central mast.
`Come and worship` the bells do us bid -`come within and know sacrament divine`
`in Holy Eucharist share with us the breaking of bread and the drinking  of wine.`
Imposing is the pipe organ with full compliment within-a veritable harmonious feast
from mere whisper as, at the organist’s behest, awakens to the mighty roar of a `beast`
the choir with their faithful musical offering ever bright and with merited tonal accord,
singing out faithfully and gustily in psalms, hymns, canticles and praises to the Lord.
This is a place of reverence and those who know it well and do continually care,
come to worship regularly and their innocent human frailties with others to share
and ask for the Lord’s continued forgiveness-just mortals with daily fault are we.
He knows well our weaknesses and always from Heaven the merciful picture will see,
we beg for our wants but he gives only as we need- he, the almighty benefactor,
in life`s winding and sometimes complicated path-he is our guide and navigator.

Jennifer Kersey