Mike Jones Poet Verse

Norwich Cathedral Evensong

Nine hundred years these arches rang :
With fervent praise the people sang.
In early days the monks would chant
As from the heights bright beams would slant
Illuminating Norman stone
And soften with a pallid light,
With Benedictine monotone,
To put all worldly dark to flight.

With skill, in stone, mere men have wrought
A timeless edifice, which sought
To witness to the power eternal,
With habit, cowl and vow fraternal.
And still, today, the peoples sing,
Sweet music echoing from the walls;
The organ thunders, anthems ring
From medieval quire stalls.

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Reason A. Poteet February 3, 2014 at 7:04 AM What is there about some people who sing on the spur of the moment?? .At work, I hear them humming (or wording) in the halls. My mom used to sing hymns at home all the time. Joy, perhaps, uncontainable joy? Peace, unexplainable peace? I pity the poor soul who will not sing because he/she fears what others will think.