The Little Church at Ebony

I sit in this church
On Christmas Day.
Called the Church of St. Mary's,
I imagine the way
It used to be,
So many years before,
When during the sixteenth century,
This little church of Ebony
Was situated on an isle,
Surrounded by the swirling sea.

The holly leaves glow
In the candlelight.
The church is beautiful and bright
With chrysanthemums,
Cream, yellow and white.
Still I cannot help but remember
The wind-swept Isle of Ebony,
And the graves of those of St. Mary,
Surrounded once by the swirling sea.