Mild malaise, mixed malady: a
Rumbling by my Lady’s statue;
Muscle cars owned by middle aged
Men, men in midlife crisis, keep
Mufflers that rumble and fright my
Queen grottoed in the front shrubs, short
Sheared and cave shaped for Her Glory.
Noisy machines, especially
At night, cruise by and curse the door
Frame, it shakes; a stentorian
Pass of exhaust gas masks the true
Morass of men now half-empty.
Yet I might just buy one too and
To Holy Hour I’d drive it, like
Bikers for Christ, in high style:
Mid-fifties, eight stacked, the path straight!
Gary Edward Geraci
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Author:
Gary Edward Geraci (
Offline) - Published: February 29th, 2020 11:04
- Comment from author about the poem: The joys of life!
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 43
Offline)
Comments1
That'll teach 'em, if they judge by outward appearance, if you turn up in one of those at church!
Don't ya dare cough, or hardly breathe, in some places, where it says 'silence' in the service! Then again, are some them alive in there even? Doh!
Oh the challenges of orderliness and silence Orchidee - but proper reverence is due of course -there's a time and place for everything - ('less we get too big for own britches and losing weight isn't an option.) Celebrating here the light-heartedness of our Lord.
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