Perhaps I find myself
casting back to memories
of things seldom recalled.
I see you there golden winged,
with long brown hair.

Young to a point,
but old as stone.
Spirit huge and frightening.
Life-blood of me;
too much for mortal man.

Gift from God!!
Sent Via...
St. Stephens Delivery Co.
Angel on my doorstep.
Fire in her eyes.

Angel of music.
Angel of darkness.
Flame burning eternally,
unquenchable,
never wavering.

Seductive holy being
drawing my poor soul
into her web of pleasures.
I learn that Mother Mary
Was not a virgin.

She just never slept
with her husband.
Hey, Hey, Hey!!
Jesus was a bastard.
He never stood a chance.

Thank you for my angel.
She seemed in disguise
for I was beguiled by her,
and cast her for mortal flesh.
But now mine lips have tasted

The nectar of God himself. It was mine!!
But you never really know what you need.
'Til you can't have it no more.
Fly back sweet angel of piety.
You are my sinful covetaceous beauty.

07/11/2003

Author's Note: Honorable Mention in the November Teen Patron Contest...

Posted on 07/12/2003
Copyright © 2024 J. P. Davies