Marie Sheard

It Was on a Black Friday

They remember it was on a good Friday.
Before nightfall, the sky had turned black.
Outside, trees were swaying wildly,
Inside the whole house was shaking
As if from some demons unleashed
Upon cowering innocents.

Clinging to rosaries those innocents
Were on their knees in the parlour that Friday
Wondering what damnations would be unleashed
Upon their souls, in the darkest black.
On their knees they were shaking,
As the winds outside spun wildly.

And in their eyes the terror shone wildly,
What had they done, poor innocents,
Recollecting their sins and shaking
That evening, on that good Friday.
And the night went from black to black
All traces of light obliterated by clouds unleashed

Has a victorious Satan his demons unleashed?
Sent them blowing and screaming wildly,
And covered the world beneath a cowl of black?
So wondered the weeping innocents
On that dreadful good Friday
As the house was rumbling and shaking.

The window frames were shaking
Against the torrent of rain and wind unleashed
This was an apocalypse of a good Friday.
As in the fireplace place the wind howled wildly.
They bowed their heads to the ground the innocents
Praying fiercely for some light to break through the black.

In their souls they searched for any source of black
Which might have brought about those demons raging and shaking
Upon the homes and families of poor innocents.
They wondered, was it just some weather unleashed,
Careering around the globe wildly
On this the worst in memory of a good Friday?

So as the black sky its clouds of terror unleashed,
Wildly shaking men and beasts,
The innocents did repent on this black good Friday.

The water is rising (a dialogue poem)

Look child, the water has risen again.

Will it go back?


Will it rise some more?

Yes, soon there will be no land left.

What will we do?

We will leave, child.


We will make a raft.

But how?

We will use the tree there.

But it’s the last tree!

I know, but what can we do?

Where will we go?

We’ll go on the water until we find land.

Will that take a long time?

Yes it will, child.

What sort of land will it be?

I do not know.
I don’t even know if we will get there.

Marie Paule

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