Lights in the Chapel

Although sonnets are not my strongest area when it comes to poetry, (mostly because I don't like having to follow so many rules) I used to write them quite frequently. This is probably my best.

A chapel on a long forgotten hill

surrounded by a village it holds dear

there are absolutely no bells to hear

all that passes through is a winter chill

shaking the foundation as is God's will

the cathedral is bare, every inch clear

the scenery, or lack thereof, is queer

the timbers quake above the window sill

but alas, at night the church comes alive

the northern lights shine their luminous rays

of green and yellow, the people give praise

the phantasmal apparitions, revived

beyond the oak doors lies a phantom chaise

at least for tonight the chapel will thrive

Author's Note

I am open to any constructive criticism. When it comes to my poetry I want to be the best I possibly can be while still maintaining the uniqueness that makes my poems mine.