` Echoes Breathe Deep { Traditional Rondeau Format }

Echoes breathe deep 'neath Church steeples, wind warped chimes chase spiral pathways, stations, novenas, the Passion and the Death. Funeral's tend to cumber heavy hearts choke the lungs from the grief and organ. Myrrh stings the eyes like darning needles, spiraled smoke dances 'round gothic lamps; the starched 'March of Death' sleeps below them, as Echoes breathe deep, sore unlaboured, while mourners sit in pews profusely sweating. Morning sun bleeds heavy through stained glass. 'Resurrection' Masses tend to cause discomfit, leave grey, hollow hearts in deep bereft; thank God for the cool steeple breeze; when echoes breathe deep...in wake of the dead. FjR-MMXVII