Echoes breathe deep 'neath Church steeples, <br />wind warped chimes chase spiral pathways, <br />chords of love... the Passion and the Death. <br />Funeral's tend to cumber heavy hearts <br />and lungs of the grievous stricken...choking. <br /> <br />Myrrh stings the eye like a devils darning needle, <br />smoked heat dances 'round the gothic lamps above <br />the starched 'March of Death' sleeps below them, <br />as Echoes breathe deep, sore unlaboured, <br />while mourners sit in pews profusely sweating- <br /> <br />by the noonday sun off the bright stained glass <br />'Resurrection' Masses tend to disturb, <br />leave grey, hollow hearts bereft; <br />thank God for the steeple breeze- <br />whenever Church Echoes breathe deep. <br /> <br /> <br /> <br /> <br />© 2014-All rights reserved <br /> Frank James Ryan Jr. / FjR<br /><br />Frank James Ryan Jr...FjR<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/echoes-breathe-deep-traditional-rondeau-format/
