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About This Poem
Saint Jeane d' Arc
With trembling legs
I climbed the concrete steps
to the place where my heroine
ancestor once worshiped
Its Gothic architecture
embraced my soul ...
I opened the famous
cathedral doors reliving stories of long ago…
There she shined
in all her glory...such a sparkling luminescence
a mosaic in stained glass of a French born maiden
the nectar of her innocence angrily drank by Satan
determined brave warrior whose faith would not falter
her magnificent presence embraced the antique altar
St. Michael and Catherine were her rocks of Gibraltar…
Apparitions of events threatened France’s throne
A cross-dressed virgin King Charles disowned
Burned at the stake for her heresy
My French ancestor’s bravery lives inside of me
( Such a parallel to Christ my King )
Then
I fell
to
my
knees
and
prayed.
Gwendolen R.
7-7-12
For PD's "Any Poem of the Week Contest"
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