A Catholic Girl's True Story
I was only nine, when I was
denied absolution!
I had eaten meat on on a
Friday, tsk,tsk.
To burn in hell 'twas the
Priest's resolution?
Daddy raged at the Chancery
Office.
How dismayed he was at all
this!
I had to go back to the Church,
the pastor heard my Confession.
How frightening this was for
a little girl!
Who thought she was headed
for hell!
I thought obeying my parents
was more important than eating
smelly, halibut from hell.
Mom had cooked the meat not
me.
I was simply following her orders!
How the Church has changed!
Now they cannot keep their priests
to follow sacred Holy Orders?
11/1/2024 Poem 5
Chancery lane at 5 o’clock
Towards the Strand I go
It’s a tourist kind of walk
I do not pretend to know
Every building that looks great
Winter air is damp and soft
Passed the wig shop, by the gate
Of the Ede and Ravenscroft
Stopped to see familiar faces
But there are no more
Sellers changed in many places
That I’ve known before
On the Strand Cross Keys are gone
Popped in Cheshire Cheese
And I nearly said hello
Same as always, please..
Seems like no one cares to know
How time shifts through time
Filed and saved as picture show
For some tourists eye.
Let destiny create a distance...
Firestorm of roses will set an inferno...
Arrow goading the scented sceneries.
Maniac in love, heartlands of homophiles.
Lovely heart cradled in my lover's arms...
Glass dome saving the last petal...
Canvass the soil for a sepal...
Eclipse eyes yearning forever this memory,
Century of love marking romantique history,
Chancery charming this unsettled elapse...
Bowing on the vow of your untangled fragrance,
Heart on your heart always.
Blue bike(Northern dialectably)
A bicycle that’s new was blue and swankity it had 52 spokes all chromed and
silver fancery
That bike was mine
I rode up hills to see the countery and down dales to go fast and rode it chancery
That bike was mine
I popped a tyre down near ta factory and I took it home to tell ta family we got
out spoons and inspected ta mattery then I put a plaster were the puncture
bubbled watery
That bike was mine
It had 10 gears which were satisfactory five were hard and the others sappery
but it got me going were I want ta be
That bike was mine
Soon I was looking for a new bike practically with ten more gears and a name that
suited me but I’ll never forget that blue bike frankily
Because that bike was mine
It is the arrow, not the cask
that silences but ne'er the mask,
truth's syndrome not alone in task,
it is the grief that e'er will last!
Could this be then so swollen fast,
that grief be different, for each race,
Aye, but the truth can ne'er efface
the bending of the head, still place ~
The falling of the tear replace,
Oh, that it be then grief I case
to represent that saddened face
that tithed its error as disgrace!
Oh, will of God answers erase,
that hurt's abiding chancery ~ place,
the angel's stance to be Thy grace,
let kingdom's rostrum cure deface!