by Jenny Potter
Awaken me on Sunday morning
Chiming for an hour or two
And once you pause, I think you’re waning,
You begin to toll anew.
What’s the time? Who knows? Who cares?
The occasion? We need none.
Each time you catch me unawares
And torment me until you’re done.
You’re hungover? What a shame.
Got a headache? Sad for you.
Morning, evening, all the same –
And the cause? I wish I knew.
In the library in the evening,
Finally a silent space.
But no! I hear those church bells chiming –
Please not here, not in this place.
But now it’s summer and I’m free
From list’ning to your clanging tune.
Now I can leave here happily,
So glad that I won’t hear bells soon!