In the old church the bell does toll
and marks each passing hour
I never noticed it until that day
my little Calla sat with me like a precious flower
I said, 'Do you hear the Church Bell'?
and you nodded yes you did
Your eyes did show excitment, as I counted,
with the wonder of a little kid
One, Two, Three Four
Five, Six Seven, Eight
I helped show you on your fingers
and your expression was so great
My little grandaughter
who I hardly ever see
I wonder if the Church Bells
Will be your memory of me
Though I rarely see you
I hear you in the evening night
as the church bells toll
I long for that moment that felt so precious, so bright
As time goes by and by
I don't know what it will or will not bring
But I miss you more each time
I hear their lonely ring
2008 © James T. Adair
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem