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The Mass

The Mass
On Palm Sunday, she will go to church, not driven but walk on 
old feet that hurt for every step, I will sit at home, wait by 
the phone in case she cannot make it up the hill to the church.
A modern church paid for by a German industrialist who was 
then allowed to built his villa at a nature reservation  and thus 
is the life of commerce. The benefactor has got his name on 
the wall when he dies will become a seraph nothing  less will do ,
a chief angel or nothing 

The sermon is long I fiddle with car radio and get some soul
 riveting  Fado. I see my wife walking slowly down the hill and for 
a moment I think of driving her down, but desist I will never get 
away with it and I don’t know how to manage without her.
We  are both obnoxious people a bond that keeps us united now
that we are both near the hole in the ground where lies are told.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Date: 4/14/2015 10:58:00 AM
I had to read this again to fully absorb the beauty of your lines. Your words are smooth and mental friendly. My innerself jerk to your written expressions and I just cannot stop loving this beautiful page. Definitely a 7
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Date: 4/3/2015 4:38:00 PM
Very nice prose poem with good moral. God bless you dear.
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Hansen Avatar
Jan Oskar Hansen
Date: 4/7/2015 1:17:00 PM
thank you,Sandip
Date: 4/3/2015 4:18:00 PM
A very lovely Piece ! May I join you !
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Hansen Avatar
Jan Oskar Hansen
Date: 4/7/2015 1:18:00 PM
thank you, Nigel

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry