Awaiting the Night

I wonder, as I sit here,
Humoring this fool,
Who keeps himself entertained,
With his scientific pursuits,

Should I be participating?
That musician is just as
Guilty as I am,
Strumming away as if

Nothing wrong is happening.
It’s obvious!
This fair maid is being kept
Hostage for his amusement!

We are being paid,
But she has no choice
In the matter.
And look at her!

She’s terrified!
He serves her with meat
As if a guest,
While she counts the

Seconds until he gets
Tired of his stupidity,
Sends us home,
And escorts her to

His chambers,
Where, just as she fears,
He will ravish her
With all his brutish strength.

We should stop it!
We should call the
City guards to lock him up,
And keep this sweet,

Innocent virgin
From such a sinister,
Grisly attack.
There are some things

That just should not
Be done in this world,
And having money,
Should not make it right!

 

(Magpie Tales: Mag 67 (visual)

Nicolas-Tournier—Banquet-Scene-with-a-Lute-Player)

Nobody Wants to Be an Angel

Dungeons keep
The unwanted.
Towers keep
The necessary
But still unwanted.

In the village
Lives the free man,
Who pays taxes
To the king,

So the villager
Is wanted
For his work,
And for his money.

But what of the great
Flock of angels
Waiting in the heavens?
Busy as ever,

But unknown,
Unappreciated,
Unwanted.

Being an angel
Is a thankless job.
Everyone pays homage
But nobody bears duty.

Being an angel
Is hard work.
You have to save
Stupid people.

You have to keep
Watch over evil men
Who plague the innocent
With their corruption.

And all kinds of things.
But what reward do
Angels get?
They get to be in

God’s presence.
Given, it is a privilege.
But how far does it go?
Eventually,

Even that gets old.
In the end,
Nobody wants to be
An angel.

(Sunday Scribblings
#269 – flock)