Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The French peasant monk sharpened his scythe on a stone, des choses simples avec Dieu he said, his calloused hands did their task with simplicity, to one who has faith no explanation is necessary Thomas said, bring wine when you come she said I perform better under its power in bed that is, I watched the peasant monk as he sharpened his scythe mine was less used less blunt, omnia enim possibilia sunt apud Deum Dom James said as we brought apples to the kitchen, Gregorian chant sounded from wall to wall in the church at midday as the office of Sext began, George spoke of the chill at dawn entering the church how it got to his bones, Hugh pushed the tea trolley onto the cloister garth after the office of None his thin features and thin hands gripped the trolley handle white knuckled, dalle piccole cose grandi cose vengono the Italian monk said holding a coffee bean in the palm of his hand, she held my small thing in the palm of her hand and said see it grows from small things big things come and laughed, vines and trees will teach you that which you will never learn from masters Bernard said, Dom Joe(dear Bunny) ******* up his nose as he thought and said God has a plan for each of us but leaves us to find it out, his scythe sharp the peasant monk swiped the tall grass his motion fluid his head poised as a dancer, my prayer life was as a puddle shallow and murky and I stirred it with the fingers of my words, for a truly religious man nothing is tragic Gareth said quoting Wittgenstein as we sat on the beach watching the tide coming in, where I stood the waters touched my life and thoughts and sin.
0
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 2:52 PM UTC
THOUGHTS AND SIN MCMLXXI.
The French peasant monk sharpened his scythe on a stone, des choses simples avec Dieu he said, his calloused hands did their task with simplicity, to one who has faith no explanation is necessary Thomas said, bring wine when you come she said I perform better under its power in bed that is, I watched the peasant monk as he sharpened his scythe mine was less used less blunt, omnia enim possibilia sunt apud Deum Dom James said as we brought apples to the kitchen, Gregorian chant sounded from wall to wall in the church at midday as the office of Sext began, George spoke of the chill at dawn entering the church how it got to his bones, Hugh pushed the tea trolley onto the cloister garth after the office of None his thin features and thin hands gripped the trolley handle white knuckled, dalle piccole cose grandi cose vengono the Italian monk said holding a coffee bean in the palm of his hand, she held my small thing in the palm of her hand and said see it grows from small things big things come and laughed, vines and trees will teach you that which you will never learn from masters Bernard said, Dom Joe(dear Bunny) ******* up his nose as he thought and said God has a plan for each of us but leaves us to find it out, his scythe sharp the peasant monk swiped the tall grass his motion fluid his head poised as a dancer, my prayer life was as a puddle shallow and murky and I stirred it with the fingers of my words, for a truly religious man nothing is tragic Gareth said quoting Wittgenstein as we sat on the beach watching the tide coming in, where I stood the waters touched my life and thoughts and sin.
A YOUTH IN AN ABBEY IN 1971 HAUNTED BY A WOMAN
TerryCollett
Written by
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 2:52 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem