The Bell Ringers

A villanelle

The church bells ring out caressing the stone.

A circle of ten at the end of each swing,

the bell ringers stand together alone.

In the chamber of ringing - language honed:

handstroke, backstroke - a balance of things.

The church bells ring out caressing the stone.

The call 'Look to! Treble's going ... she's gone' -

eyes dance the rounds and the pattern begins.

The bell ringers stand together alone.

The church gardens blossom on blood and bone.

As hands work the ropes the bronze clappers sing.

The church bells ring out caressing the stone.

Somewhere a child knows it's time to go home.

A single breath between each changing ring,

the bell ringers stand together alone.

Memory relives all the body has known.

The senses reach back, the spirit takes wing.

The church bells ring out caressing the stone.

The bell ringers stand together alone.