The Ghosts Of Fountains Abbey Poem by Kelly Vinal
The Ghosts Of Fountains Abbey
Stand silent, and you’ll sense the ghosts
Of Fountains Abbey
White Monks in raw wool habits
Wafting through your soul
Formed-up, Benedictine and Cistercian
Heads low in solemn procession
One-by-one and breeze-by-breeze
Hushed forever now
But loud as children running free
Through grassy fields
Where the entrance used to be
You can feel them still, within
Her hallowed walls
In chaffinch nests that mark
Majestic sandstone halls
Guides informs us these are ruins,
But they can’t describe
The abundant life that’s found inside
The broken mortar and crumbled
Abutments that fused the
Banquet hall and cells
In every fracture, every crack
A plant or insect dwells
Stroll with them,
The ghostly monks of Fountains Abbey
Through the frigid corridors,
They still perform their daily chores
Baking bread and weaving wool
Tending sheep across the meadow
To the altar where they pray
For their brothers who lie
Today, below the stony, ancient paths
Open to the Yorkshire sky
*From the book: Vapours of Promise, ©2004 - ISBN 1-59526-352-7
Very well done. You're obviously sensitive to both the history and the spirit of faith that you felt at the location, and draw a vivid word portrait.
Kelly, This one is particularly significant for me. My younger brother had a picture of Fountain's Abbey on his wall. He loved that photograph, stark in black and white. But strong and such a powerful presence - and contrast to the messy clothes and mechano pieces and rails of electric trains we had to pick our way over to reach his bed. This is a stunning poem which takes the reader back to the abbey as it must have been - perfectly penned and awash with fascinating images of yesterday. Thanks for sharing it. love, Allie xxxxxxxx
Like Sandra I'm in awe too! Having just discovered you I'm spellbound! Your poems are inspirational and provide a clear and definate view. Well crafted!
You are the master. This is simply beautiful and poetic. You captured it all. Thank you for the talent that you are so willing to share. As always, I am in awe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/11/2024 5:50:08 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Underqualified I am to critique this, so let it suffice if I say it reeks of substance. H