I hear the distant bell, one, two, three….
On the hour, every hour, I listen,
As I lean against an ancient hawthorn tree.
I hear the bell at eleven.
Calling the faithful to come kneel,
Over the centuries a tradition,
An invite to come, the spirit feel.

I hear the distant bell, one, two, three…
They mark the hours through the dark,
An echo from the past, to all we are free.
I hear the bell at one.
A count down to dawn as I lie awake,
Across this pious town it tolls,
A call, enough to make the spirit quake.

I hear the distant bell, one two, three…
Powerful enough to break an evil spell,
A match for Aoife, which set the children free
I hear the bell at four.
Reassurance for some, a deep seated need,
From the Priory’s time so long ago,
Reminds them of their holy creed

I hear the bell, one, two, three…
For some the Angelus and prayer
Something upon which few can agree.
I hear the bell at six.
The death bell, or for a changing time in life?
Not a warning now for danger in the lough,
Bringing loss and devastating strife.

I hear the bell, one, two, three…
Part of daily life for some,
Sadly not now, no longer me.
I hear the bell at eight.
Would they hear the message if it should come,
Gods grace and faith tested at last,
Or will the pious, great and good just run?