THE SWEET BELLS
The sweet bells sound in the mourning which I oft can faintly hear,
Is the echo of the church bells with their sweet song, soft and clear.
I stop among my plodding home through the heavy rain,
listening to the wondrous sound that from, those sweet bells doth ring.
I soon forget that I was weary and the way seems not so long;
those sweet bells always give me more peace than would any song.
Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.
Unknown Source
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
|---|---|---|
| Title | Comments | Submitted |
| Everyday Being Away | 0 | 01/26/2010 |
| “Just Being Me” | 1 | 01/15/2010 |
| THE SWEET BELLS | 0 | 11/29/2009 |
| When You Looked Into My Eyes | 0 | 09/02/2009 |
| When I Die | 0 | 08/20/2009 |
| I Went To War | 0 | 08/19/2009 |
| This My Story Y’all | 0 | 08/16/2009 |
| Wounded For the Wrong Cause | 0 | 08/11/2009 |
| LOVIN ‘ YOU | 0 | 08/11/2009 |
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