“Was it not his angel he just lost!?
She had more beauty than any one of us!
She had more grace than Jesus on the cross!
Gave more life than Ghandi pleaded not…”
“Wait! His motives were not unjust!
She clipped his wings; He cried ‘I must!’
Dismay found the fool running amuck,
Smacked him blue, and called him a schmuck”
“Ha Ha serves him right for running like a duck!
Quacking white sonnets stolen from disparity!
And praying that only she can form his parody!
Bigger fools have perished, yet only he cries lost in clarity!”
“He is no duck and certainly not a schmuck
He’s still our brother, like it or not, albeit his wings
He will regain… white halo worn from tainted horns
She has no price, yet I fear he might reprise…”
“Fool, let him be, if he must carry on screaming soothsay
Running around the forest like an idiot, I should say!
Never mind that she will never love him blindly…
His heart may never beat so kindly…”
16 January 2010