Sabbath Evening Worship

Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

Chris gazes at the curly-locked guy, young,
So gorgeous that Prince Absalom would hate
Him. Also that black hair has surely stung
Too many women’s hearts. Too late
To win him first, so Chris must try
To calm the heart now lost in stun, the stun
Of love. “Control yourself. Try not to sigh
Too loud lest he should notice.” Lust begun,
Though, hums to like a beehive threatened, stirred
To passion, poison in the females’ stings.
The heart of Chris now knows that they have whirred
Inside it, workers frantic with spurned wings.
..Christ knows the nectar and the honey warn.
….Chris guesses gorgeousness like this broods scorn.