AnElephantCant ever truly know,
How certainly her “hubby” thinks it grand,
That put a smile on my true loves face,
Such wonderful attention, as first hand.
But greatest joy as do your words bestow,
Dear pachyderm, don’t misconstrue me please,
In spreading mirth as do your words with grace
The more affects him, well it guarantees,
Beyond so great a joy, as overflow
Most all the expectations he conceives.
Then writes he sonnets all the more apace
Although the Holiday so interleaves;
And though his sonnets flow like water, won’t
Misplace such inspiration if they don’t!
AnElephantCant hide his great pleasure
To meet folk who know sweet Lady Day
This place is quite grubby
But please bring your hubby
And just pop in next time you’re passing this way
Conceive how wonderful are
My sweetheart’s Smiles.
Could God’s devout assail with flame a room
Of helpless innocents whose only crime:
Descent from their inferno without time
To don a hooded veil, so to their doom
Were sent? What god commands her to a tomb
Half sunk in earth, and rent with stone by grime
Stained hands, a helpless girl? What paradigm–
That knew the violation of her womb,
Then learnt this travesty her god offends!?
Whose crime could be the punishment of rape?
What god is this? What votary attends?
While gawkers ’round the world in silence gape?
If God gives love, redemption, hope, and breath,
I name him Satan, feignèd god of death.
This sonnet is part of a short sequence; click here to read it all: