By David Cochrane, September 1998
I hear them now inside my head
The bell that rang, “get out of bed”
The bell that drove us to our knees
The bell that tolled, to let us feed.
These bells were soft, brass and loud
The endless tune divided time
The time to play, the time to sleep
The time to hear the pastor speak.
Bells that rang the whole day through
From morning sun ’til evening dew
Bells that tolled our tiny fate
That measured days with even gait.
Bells at lunch and supper too
Bell that even governed news
Bells that rang inside our heads
That drove us from our simple beds.
Bells that ring to rhyme and song
Cannot be found within my home
But now I wake to other tunes
For bells I simply have no room.
Boarding school was governed by the ringing of all types of bells. Each had a purpose, which regimented the activities of the MKs as well as segmented the days.
Thank God for no more bells.
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