My house is a Scriptorium
A silent writing place
A medieval monk am I
In a quiet writing space
Marks I make on paper
Biro now my quill
Words to leave for others to read
When all my days are still
The garden gate engraved ‘aged 9’
Penknife now my pen
‘BF’ scored the bright green paint
To mark the who and when
Monks of old in silent rooms
Copied sacred texts
Holding sacred wisdom
Of this world and the next
Our names appear in registers
For baptism marriage death
One day inscribed upon a stone
As we take our last breath
But a greater script awaits you then
By the one who loves you true
Your names are written in heaven
Waiting there for you
Brian Fahy
1 October 2022
Erris Poetry 