The minster bells fill air
That a month ago was light.
Stained with twilight now,
The light lives on in memory
Summoned by bells
That set me running,
Not towards the church,
Desperate to confess or pray,
But along summer lanes
On unfit feet or in
My bashed up car windows down,
Wash of meadowsweeted air
Swept with bat darting swifts.
Ring on, bells in minster and chapel,
Ring for me a pass
Over darkened mountains, back
Into sun rinsed valleys and roads.
Ring on, I’ll always
Answer your call.


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