My Bell--(shameless lyric)

Ah, for days green and almost raining,
with no words but those spoke by you,
nudged and produced, as a bell
which stores memory of melody
in its hull. Water spreads wet;

Your speech makes words,
such as friend,
which I'd like to hear again,
along with further addendums
I'm too cautious to ask for.

Please don't wince--
you know how a church bell
stops ringing at midnight
and awaits leaden and tremulous
to pronounce the eighth morning hour?

So I, struck by love before,
left untold with the night hours,
see in your eye-gleam
a morning beam to toll!
My heart, a dangling clapper

reels in my chest, an iron umbrella protecting;
I swear it's not sadism but a need for chimes
urges me to throw myself
upon my own heart again for the din produced,
for the arrival signified thereby.

All I wish is to ring the day
sing its hours, one hum for each
hour within each hour,
and the four steps approaching.
(Ah, the Basilica's beloved thoughts!)

Knowing as I do
the darkness of belfry nights,
all I wish is to ring the day,
announce love's advent:
the hour that gives purpose to bells.