such solely syllabic utterances
queued perfect to a finite form
sacrificing meaning for intent
mouths agape saying naught
mimicking decrepit miters
who preach dismally of dust
hair woven tight as shrouds
fearful of allowing a breath
to escape the clotted confines
clever these woolly lambs
these happy flocks of flotsam
floating on a sea of tranquility
hairy ears impatient pricked
preening serenely their undoubted
salvation these bishop babes
breasts expanding engorged
on your all-hallowed humility
which admittedly you wear so well
how joyful it must be, my dears
to know that you are blessed
and ever so much appreciated
Çeşme, Turkey 23 July 2012
George Ellington 
George, it’s all quite amazing… thought provoking and beautiful poetry…
“hair woven tight as shrouds
fearful of allowing a breath
to escape the clotted confines”
wow… great work ~ 🙂 R
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Thank you very much, Robyn. You are too kind.
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George–you do sarcasm so well–sheering as I read that last stanza. All of it very well done.
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My thanks, Susan. The subject is all Mari’s fault — she got me thinking along those lines. But I take full credit for the sarcasm. … Or not. Years of watching Monty Python, Fawlty Towers, and Blackadder have irrevocably tainted my tongue with a taste for sarcasm. … Well, at the very least, I wrote this bloody thing, so I was kind of involved in it!
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Loved it, and again thanking you for sharing it!
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oops–cheering, cheering. Sheesh.
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I don’t know — I quite liked “sheering.”
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Would have been totally freudian if I had said “shearing” 🙂
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Ooh, even better!
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