Church Bells

There’s a memory that keeps ringing through the sacred halls of time.
A remembrance ever echoing back and forth across my mind.
‘Tis of church bells I am thinking and the awesome sound they made.
As the sounds of their resounding crossed the town and country glade

Like a contest in their chiming giving forth a beckoned call.
To the lonely weary traveler on whose ears they gently fall.
They were saying to the wayward come and join our happy band
Against the force of evil won’t you now decide to stand.

In this modern age of changes their sound we seldom hear.
When from beneath the steeples, belfries all but disappear.
Like the blowing of the whistle they are landmarks of the past
Reminding us of antiquity and things that do not last.

At the ringing of the church bell, morning service would begin.
Twas the signal it had started, prelude, swelling to the brim.
Perhaps it was the years passing, at the tolling of the bell.
The victory of our soldier boys, just returned from hell.

Whatever the occasion was, the church bells rang it out.
Alerting every human heart and dispelling every doubt.
No ropes hang down from belfries in the edifices of today.
For the changes in our modern world, it’s the price we’ve had to pay