Bell, Book, Candle

By Benjamin Baxter - Fresno, California, USA - 1 December 2013



Bell, the singing crisply curt

Ringing as the end of time,

Crossly disarms man this warning

Only thrice, with yielding chime.

Now the hour of death or breath.

Now the way to home, lost, shown.

Ever more the sound, stopped, lingers.

Door left open; man alone.


Book, the sign of learned love

Seems to sit, stands all the same.

Accusation, grounded, silent

What way worse for things to blame?

For the law, for oaths recalled,

For the mind, left, lost, and mauled,

Adversary draws his bead.

Blind man gives eyes to read.


Candle, lit, for things do melt

Passing, burning, as our tears.

One night will soon be its last.

As one day we'll end our years.

Light is life, is truth, is hope.

Light and warmth, not ways of doubt.

Once the man succumbs, is dying,

Twice he's seen the lights go out.