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Dom Higgs came to the room and spoke to me of the monastic life it was late evening and the shutters were closed so no moon no stars, est forma mortis he said, moon glow by bell-tower especially after Compline and the haunting looking cloister, and she said her husband wouldn't be home for hours and there was time for it so we did, the French peasant monk peeled onions in the kitchen peler sous l'eau he said, I cut the grass around the gravestones of the monks and flattened out molehills before the hour of Sext, flying from the pains of hell we desire to reach life everlasting Benedict said, Hölle ist hier the German monk said pointing to his chest with his thick finger, Hugh made the chair in the guest house I saw it there after he told me he was no Charles Mackintosh but it served it's purpose, sancta Maris audi nos Dom Peter whispered in the cloister while waiting to enter the church for Vespers his voice thick as treacle but pure as soft snow, she undressed for me with the skill of a ***** I a youth unravelling the apple as Adam had, Dom Charles sat in the refectory at supper his face still as a china doll his eyes stern and unblinking maybe God-ward thinking, Dio è con noi the Italian monk said as he showed me how to sharpen the scythe his hands powerful fingers gripping the stone, non veniam sine poenitentia, the ultimate value of life depends upon awareness and the power of contemplation rather than upon mere survival Gareth said quoting Aristotle as we sat in the novice room after Terce, stars above me moon bright as ghostly ship I walked the drive way letting curses let slip.
0
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 3:31 AM UTC
CURSES LET SLIP MCMLXXI.
Dom Higgs came to the room and spoke to me of the monastic life it was late evening and the shutters were closed so no moon no stars, est forma mortis he said, moon glow by bell-tower especially after Compline and the haunting looking cloister, and she said her husband wouldn't be home for hours and there was time for it so we did, the French peasant monk peeled onions in the kitchen peler sous l'eau he said, I cut the grass around the gravestones of the monks and flattened out molehills before the hour of Sext, flying from the pains of hell we desire to reach life everlasting Benedict said, Hölle ist hier the German monk said pointing to his chest with his thick finger, Hugh made the chair in the guest house I saw it there after he told me he was no Charles Mackintosh but it served it's purpose, sancta Maris audi nos Dom Peter whispered in the cloister while waiting to enter the church for Vespers his voice thick as treacle but pure as soft snow, she undressed for me with the skill of a ***** I a youth unravelling the apple as Adam had, Dom Charles sat in the refectory at supper his face still as a china doll his eyes stern and unblinking maybe God-ward thinking, Dio è con noi the Italian monk said as he showed me how to sharpen the scythe his hands powerful fingers gripping the stone, non veniam sine poenitentia, the ultimate value of life depends upon awareness and the power of contemplation rather than upon mere survival Gareth said quoting Aristotle as we sat in the novice room after Terce, stars above me moon bright as ghostly ship I walked the drive way letting curses let slip.
a youth in an abbey in 1971 haunted by a woman
TerryCollett
Written by
Apr 21, 2016
Apr 21, 2016 at 3:31 AM UTC
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