Letter: Crooked Spire poem | Derbyshire weather

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I see the green stick of the young fractured

Limbed rickets, these lame worshipers

Remember the twist of that arrow

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A reader wrote a poem about the Crooked Spire in Chesterfield.

Finger crooked, pointing the same ~

Arthritis boneless, distorted by time, old beams

Bring Sabbaths to the healings of our dreams.

Then walk a mile to heal a crooked man

This crooked house reminds

How Lazarean Love Can Heal

Such serious afflictions of the eyes

Let love be blind ~

Because not all are seasoned for the next day,

Heaven wise through the paths of pain.

Strong bones suffered

And show us how to bend, not to break

Holier in the mother’s eye

That all the tortured circuits of the earth

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