Placid Sunday Morn.

Lying amid grass of perfumed green, Cushioned with sun and calm of early morn, From verdant lanes echo aloft the sound of the bell Bidding me attend it s evocative toll What solitary same sound has winged in byegone days And fetched the faithful, young and old, to morning dues It s sad and mournful clang, it s long and lonely call Evokes a realm of pastness gone now and yet Still lives - so long as bell and quiet sunny morn All combine to tell of such a heritage. Clanging slow and loud all the way home Into memory - and heart.