Sunday Morning
Over vast and misty meadows
peals a scale of scattered chimes.
Inexpert ringers miss their moment.
Tattered rhythm, raw and jerky,
a cadence of notes across the village
calls the faithful from far and wide.
With one last look into the mirror,
fancy-skirted , straw-hatted ladies
on the arms of suited husbands,
climb the hill, prepare to pray.
It used to be like that – sadly nowadays they come by car, if they come at all. Few men wear suits and ties, women are no longer seen in hats and gloves. Sweating ringers in bell towers are a rarity, replaced with electronic peals. Forgive me my nostalgic wordling. Written for Brenda’s Sunday Whirl
‘scattered chimes’, ‘tattered rhythm’ … lovely images.
Still hear the church bells here Tuesday nights and Sunday mornings..it is a wonderful sound..evocative..rich..like this picture..
Nostalgia is something which makes us keep our sanity during constant change. In our mind’s eye, it remains as an anchor for us to remain moored when we loose our bearings during life’s walks.
Shakti
No forgiveness necessary, Viv. I remember “when.” I admit, when I am a music minister, I always wear jeans, even though I am the pastor’s wife, because I tell folks Jesus would feel comfortable sitting next to me if he came in!
This harks back to another day, and your nostalgic poems are among my favorites, along with youro WWII prose. Loved it. Amy
What a lovely thought. Dressing up for something special is the other side of the argument.
Hi Viv, that’s so sweet. That was me this Cristmas in Northmoor for the candle light service. Everyone walked. Such a nice tradition. The bell ringers remind me of an ad which was running for mars bars. Look up bellringers mars ad 2008…you’ll laugh! Anyway, relaly enjoyed reading this poem and, now that Pamela told me of the Mr Linksy on the site…duh…I’ll be able to find you every Sunday.
Oh, I’ll see if I can follow.
Well, I love your nostalgic wordle Viv!
I like this, Viv. We had one of those bells at my childhood home church. I was an expert ringer, though.
Nicely penned and beautifully expressed Viv – However, if you want to take a step back in time – go to southern Italy – up into the hills, small-town-anywhere; almost all the churches have bells still hand-rung and the women come dressed and be-hatted, the men in dress shirts and pants (suits if it’s not too hot and if they have the money … station in life has a lot to do with wardrobe I think, but the Italians seem very conscious of how they enter their Lord’s house – or allow anyone else to, come to think of it … tourists – women must have heads and shoulders covered and a skirt that’s at least knee length or long pants; men – long pants, no jeans and no baseball hats. I am a huge hat fan so loved being fawned over for my “bella capella”…
Thanks for dropping by my blog earlier btw – your comments are always appreciated.
It was like that when we lived in Seychelles – we used to say that the children had frills on their frills, and wore shoes, which must have been uncomfortable, as they were mostly barefoot or in flip-flops the rest of the time. As for the ladies, they really went to town!
For every advance we make we lose something precious that cannot be restored. We must be watchful; greed is killing us, our values and our memories. Thanks for the dig in the ribs.
I love church scenes, Viv. Nice!
Pamela
I love your nostalgic wordling, Viv. You painted a picture of a slower time…. I mourn its loss, and thank you for the glimpse.
Good morning, Viv. Today is my birthday and hubbymoose drew your name from the bag. I will be sending you a surprise this week . . . if you will email me your mailing address.
Thanks!!
Happy birthday, Barbara. And thank you. Where do I find your email address?
don’t worry, I found it!
A beautiful picture you painted, blending those wordle words so expertly, unlike the discordant ringers.
*hugs*
Lovely nostalgia – now we come early to find a parking place, everyone is dressed in blue jeans, electronic bells are noisy & sound like doom!
Viv, this poem is wonderful in its visual and auditory values. Very nicely done.
Nothing to forgive, Viv. You paint a vivid scene with these words. One I remember as well. My father was an usher, so he always wore a suit and tie, and Mom bought white gloves for each of us that we “forgot” to use, once we got into high school.
Elizabeth
http://soulsmusic.wordpress.com/2013/01/27/according-to-the-ratings/
I had to go back and look for the words, I was so involved in the scene. I like using ‘scale’ that way. So far, I’ve seen the word used three different ways. Am waiting for someone to scale a mountain.
Your words made me think of a painting and a beautiful one at that.
Lovely Viv! You have such a way with words. This sounds so peaceful. And yes let’s pray!
Sunday Best…!
I enjoyed this trip into your nostalgic memories!
I really love the openning two lines.
Times change, and not always for the better.
But sometimes for the better – my Mum always made sure to have fresh clothes and make-up on for when my Dad got home. If I did that, the Hub would think I was cheating on him
My Mum was like that, too.