The elegance of structure and of bone
Obscene post- reason steely, cold and bare
God once dwelt in culture’s floating domes
Post modern art repels and makes no home
Leaves us wandering, does not seem to care
For elegance. for structure or its bones
Mathematics dry and dead ,unknown
Is PC and yet our hearts it tears
Dwells in texts and not in human groans
Yet love endures in ancient bricks and stones
The Tudor wall here, built by hands with flair
So elegant in structure red brick leans
Incoherent, what do tower blocks mean?
In ugly cities hear slit skylines swear
Where the echoed goodness. where the sin?
Past unused stome churches , traffic swerves
No more are children playing on these kerbs
The structure of imagination’s spun
The space for sacred living shrinks, is gone
How my heart sings 