Stepping into the church,
I hear powerful chords that boom.
They EVOKE momentous things like
Space,
Planets in ORBIT,
Even God.
The sounds of the ORGAN
Offer no comfort today.
Rather a challenge:
What is my faith?
What do I believe?

Georg’ann

This random assortment of words
here I am preparing a Christmas feast
Meat dredged in salted FLOUR,
browned in butter and olive oil.
Put in a deep pan to ROAST.
Hours later the fat poured
over a pasty mix to become
Yorkshire Pudding, the pride
of that house’s BARON.
ORGAN heavy carols played on
the portable radio, wedged
between the cookbooks.

This random assortment of words
here I am recoiling with revulsion,
lips pursed and head pulled in
and away as I type what came.
Meat and the man, putrid.

Heather