The Steeple-Chasers

 There came a day, some time ago

In a town with loads of people,

That a girl would fall in love with a boy

From a church with a different steeple.

 
 

The girl’s steeple was big and white

With adornments all the way up.

The people insider were a diverse group of folks

And they all drank from the same cup.

 
 

Her church had been around a while

It may be the first of its kind

The steeple has been so many different colors

But the people keep coming inside

 
 

The boy’s church steeple was bigger and black

The ornaments on the people within.

Donuts and coffee were eaten and drunk

Before service could actually begin

 
 

This church was quite a bit younger you see

It hasn’t been around as long.

They’ve managed to change the steeple’s colors

By saying all others were wrong.

 
 

After the boy and girl had dated a while

That had a big decision to make.

Should they go to a church with a white or black steeple?

Which route should they choose to take?

 
 

The girl insisted, “The White-Steepled Church!

It’s where I’ve gone all of my life.

I might not agree with all that they say,

But it’s caused me no real strife.”

 
 

The boy said, “No, the black-steepled church!

That’s where I want us to be.”

“I might not agree with the donuts and coffee

But the black steeple is alright with me.”

 
 

They fought and screamed over black or white.

It seemed like they fought for ages.

Until one day, that sat down together,

Opened a book and read through its pages.

 
 

They read all through this book they had;

They wanted to see who was right.

Should the church they go to have a steeple

That is painted in black or white.

 
 

After all the reading, they both discovered

That both of them sat there wrong.

The person who had built the original steeples

Had not put paint on them at all

 
 

The people who painted the steeples, you see

Have lost sight all through the years.

Only able to see in black and white

They painted their steeples out of fear.

 
 

The builder’s design was perfect, however;

His steeple included every color.

At top and bottom sat black and white

In between, the hue of all others.

 
 

When the boy and girl had read this story,

They closed the book and thought.

If the steeples were all meant to have color,

Then what a stupid battle we’ve fought.

 
 

Perhaps we should start a new church,

A room with a technicolor steeple.

We can fill it with others who have fought the fight

Over a church with black or white steeples.

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