No Fairy Tale
By Silver Spun Sand
Thu, 17 Dec 2015
- 830 reads
2 comments
I’m pregnant, Joe, and yes, I’m sure,
and I’m not half out my mind;
unsullied – still a virgin.
Strike me dead, Lord, if I’ve lied.
I don’t blame you though
for doubting me...so...
take your precious ring,
it’ll never stop me loving you.
Don’t my words mean anything?”
“Too right – they don’t! Not said
with lips that lied with every kiss;
Just tell me who the father is
at least – you owe me this.
Who did you give your heart to?
You sold your soul, maybe?
Don’t take me for a fool, Mary
with such fairy tales as these.”
“As God’s my witness, honestly,
you couldn’t be more wrong.
No pack of lies – no fairy tale...
I’m going to have God’s son.
An angel – name of Gabriel
said God had favoured me
was I should bear the Christ-Child;
was I, the mum-to-be.
So slag me off, admonish me –
fuel the gossip, spread the lies!
Believe them, Joe or marry me?
Come back when you decide.
My body is my temple – Joe
and its key is yours, alone,
yet while I slept the Lord crept in
and gave to us our son.
To hell with feeling honoured –
more frightened used, and lost,
to bear a child that’s born to die
nailed up on some cross.
It’s true – he is our son, Joe,
though his father they call Love
for Joe – we’re all His children.
and through us, His will be done.”
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1 User voted this as great feedback
Great poem Tina,
Permalink Submitted by skinner_jennifer on
Great poem Tina,
you clearly worked hard on this one.
Jenny. 
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