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Beáti immaculáti in via qui ámbulant in lege Dómini, I tolled the bells for the Angelus pulled ropes with George, be steady as you go less you are taken high Dom James had said (about bell pulling), sunlight on the cloister after lunch and birds from the one tree in the cloister garth, taking my hand she lead me to her bed to be bedded, there are those who seek knowledge in order to serve that is love said Bernard, the French monk said Dieu est dans tous, I heard Hugh pale faced talk of perfection in the deeds done he cleaned the latrines with dedication, the peasant monk walked from farm to cloister bringing manure for the flower beds in a wheel barrow steady as a ship through smooth waters, she lay there with that glint of eye plough my furrow she said, I weeded the monks graves all Latin named and Roman numerals, none mow as you do Dom Frederick said by the church as I mowed grass, we must sow the seed not hoard it Dominic said, I sowed and she smiled and lay there quite bare, sancta Maria audi nos, the smell of incense in the choir stalls and bread fresh baked, George and I laughed at the large table napkins large as bed sheets spread from neck to lap space, Hugh laughed not and unamused his pale face.
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Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 9:46 AM UTC
BLESSED ARE THE PURE 1971
Beáti immaculáti in via qui ámbulant in lege Dómini, I tolled the bells for the Angelus pulled ropes with George, be steady as you go less you are taken high Dom James had said (about bell pulling), sunlight on the cloister after lunch and birds from the one tree in the cloister garth, taking my hand she lead me to her bed to be bedded, there are those who seek knowledge in order to serve that is love said Bernard, the French monk said Dieu est dans tous, I heard Hugh pale faced talk of perfection in the deeds done he cleaned the latrines with dedication, the peasant monk walked from farm to cloister bringing manure for the flower beds in a wheel barrow steady as a ship through smooth waters, she lay there with that glint of eye plough my furrow she said, I weeded the monks graves all Latin named and Roman numerals, none mow as you do Dom Frederick said by the church as I mowed grass, we must sow the seed not hoard it Dominic said, I sowed and she smiled and lay there quite bare, sancta Maria audi nos, the smell of incense in the choir stalls and bread fresh baked, George and I laughed at the large table napkins large as bed sheets spread from neck to lap space, Hugh laughed not and unamused his pale face.
A YOUTH IN AN ABBEY IN 1971 HAUNTED BY A WOMAN
TerryCollett
Written by
Dec 29, 2015
Dec 29, 2015 at 9:46 AM UTC
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