Verse Angels

Anne Bradstreet and Edna St. Vincent Millay,
They met upon a flaxen prairie, one was solemn,
The other gay. They bowed thus nigh the outer bank,
Their songs intermingled where robins rove,

And bees hummed joyously as the light sparkled
On blessed dew. They shook their heads at the
World below, a mind careening, a soul forgot; the
Tabernacle desolate, dismembered on the main.

They espied The Word in tatters, cascading on
Windswept rains. So Anne prayed to our lord
On high, the crucifix and the bevel; Gabriel took his
Trumpet out, while Edna flirted with the Devil.

And arm in arm, they trod unto the light, seraphs
Immortal, a blessed ewe, where the dead outlive
The living, beyond the chalice of empyrean dream;
Where maidens are blithe and celestial, and the

Whore no more enshadowed. And on they skipped
And hopped unto the wabe, thrice to the zone of
Mesmeric rhyme – unyoked the scabbard whereon the
Righteous roam – unto the hallowed kingdom of poesy .

David Penner’s articles on politics and health care have appeared in Dissident Voice, CounterPunch, Global Research, The Saker blog, OffGuardian and KevinMD; while his poetry can be found at Dissident Voice, Mad in America, and Also a photographer, he is the author of three books of portraiture: Faces of The New Economy, Faces of Manhattan Island, and Manhattan Pairs. He can be reached at Read other articles by David.