An Attempted Poetic Expression of Blessed Mary’s Voice

(From one who once heard her speak.)

“With a ring of lily petaled bells
She speaks in bright soprano reflections,
Of giving sun and mirrored moon…”

Eternity contained within a voice, and yet
Three lines are all this pen can conceive!
The womb is dry, the mouth barren,
With truths that cannot be put to paper!

The ink dried! All expression denied!
Cassandra trice accursed yet no Apollo scorned.
Three lines, no more! Three lines, no more!
And every word falls dead at which it speaks.

“With a ring of lily petaled bells
She speaks in bright soprano reflections,
Of giving sun and mirrored moon…”

Bitter memories and sweet purring kitties!

1 (My dead-beat Mother)
poisonous people
infected and infecting
reaching out only to snatch back

biting the hand and
entangling the weave
to love them is to die inside

they hurt themselves
and share the pain
a danger to the human race

red smile hides worms inside
insidious and charming
a plague on the kind hearted

lies and lies and damning truths
slither helplessly through sodden lips
the hiss is a plea for help

poison and poisoned
spreading the feverish bite
to die is to become them

eat the dying fruit

2 (My sister's cat)
kitty cat kitty cat
soft with warming purr
teeth nip and love scratch
the sun warms but
only family keeps you happy