It was a cool, wet September day,
I could hear the river's gentle sound
smell the freshness of rain on the grass
see the willows swish against the ground
Evening crowded the late summer sky
as I entered the church that day
and though this was a sacred place
I hadnít come here to pray.
I walked up the aisle reverently
no hymnal music guided my way
silently I stood at the alter
and found I had no words to say.
To the left was the granite tomb
and within lay the famous Bard
His words had always inspired me
and standing here hit me hard
Tears ran slowly down my cheeks
I was surprised to find them there
His presence in this room was great
magical verses resounded in the air
Iíve met a few celebrities
but they cannot hold a light
to the man, long dead, I encountered
in church, that September night.