Mythology and Mystery

of The Missing Bell  

A collection of writings and musings about the Missing Bell from guests at Eastward House.

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It is all About Food

Some say it never was, at least
But I’ve heard tell
It still sounds a nell
To guide poor souls to a feast
 
So when there’s hunger in your belly
and there’s ringing in your ears
don’t sit aside the stupid telly
follow the bell without any fears

Hearty food to bring good cheer
For you and those you hold so dear
Then face tomorrow strong and well
And thank the sound of the missing bell

Nick Halling,  Broadcaster August 2010



It's not Far Away

It’s been told oft,
It’s in a loft,
Above a bed,
10 feet from his head.
He’ll give it back,
Afore he’s dead.

Anonymous May  2011 



Of Happy Spirits

I’ve heard it ringing,
And angels singing.
135 years, that house has stood,
Blessings and weddings and all things good.
The laughter and happiness of Sunday school,
Filled children’s hearts with hope and all.
 

I’ve heard it ringing,
And angels singing.
Generations of happy spirits and goodwill
Share the house with little children still.
‘tis a centre of happiness and light
And heralds the forecast of a future bright.

Caroline Fuller, Kensington May 2011



The Missing Bag

Never mind the missing bell
Where's my makeup bag?
I left it on the Pentland ferry
And now look like a hag

One frantic call to Eastward House
then all my fears subside
They drove straight there
Located where
That item did reside

And now my lips are ruby red
My powder puff is dusted
For missing bags and other snags
Our dear hosts can be trusted !

GG & GF  England September 2011



Who Cares?

It’s place to dine and not to whine,
With people of cheer and friends to be near.
To eat great food and the pleasure was mine.

So who gives a care if the bell isn’t there?
With friendships around and good food abound.
In a place of singing, with no bell ringing.

Anonymous  July 2011 

The Four Loves

The tongue of the Greeks knew 'Love'
In a fourfold way: Agape 
Was love of the Gods; is Divine,
Is what we knew before birth.

Human love, friendship, Philia, 
Love of the soul reaches
Those we are able to reach.
It warms our hearts and leaves free.

Storge, the love which is based
In habit of life, we feel strongest
When it is missing, when death,
When a tearing apart leaves us wounded.

Not least, there is Eros. When touched
By its arrow we gasp, and tremble
To touch in return. Blindly
We grope for its bubble's fulfillment.

Each deck of loves is shuffled
Uniquely in each one of us.
So each way is perfect; each hand
Provides a road-map to Heaven
Jens-Peter Linde  Aberdeen July 2012



The (ap) peal of Patrick

I've heard a bell is missing

But frankly, I don't care

That bell's toll was annoying

It polluted the Orkney air

For now I just hear Patrick's voice

Commanding, debonair

As he describes the scrambled egg

And other sumptuous fayre

Mr Shuttleworth on behalf of Graham Fellows, Actor August 2011



A Dodgy Confession

My great granddad took that noisy bell
Every Sunday it rang like hell
He felt so guilty for avoiding church
So he upped the tower and with a lurch
Nicked it, then spirited it away
And no one’s seen it, since that day

Anonymous January 2011  



A Mystery

It seems to be
A mystery.

The bell that never was
Or the lasting prank
They just hid it because . . .
Was it Ryan, Hamish or Frank

It seems to be
A mystery.

In a tomb or under the loo
How, why and who
Will we ever know?
Or was it you?

It seems to be
A mystery.

Jackie Fisher June 2011