Volume > Issue > The Bell Ringer

The Bell Ringer

A POEM

By T.J. Kelly | April 1984

He disturbs

The sleeping bells, the stolid sounds

Locked in the iron tower

That hold indifferent resonance to

The germination of a seed,

The cutting of a flower.

 

He wraps the ropes like ivy In the groinings of his hand

And dances

Blending joy and sorrow

With the falling sand.

Enjoyed reading this?

READ MORE! REGISTER TODAY

SUBSCRIBE

You May Also Enjoy

When Angels Danced

When angels danced on heads of pins

The ways of men were means not ends;

Lines Written in the Dominican College Library

However pure this love, however holy,

I want to hold your poor flesh in my…

And Are We Still to Know?

And are we still to know that thou art God?

The…