The Chalice, a poem written by Verona Jones at Spillwords.com

The Chalice

The Chalice

written by: Verona Jones

@VeronaJ57

 

A woman stood on the rocks staring out to sea,
her hands caressing her gently rounded belly.
Down her face flowing gently, tears so salty,
remembering her sweet love’s final day clearly,
that fateful night they came for him filled with glee.
Men, whose hearts were filled with such hatred,
scared to understand or believe in a love so holy,
because he died with forgiveness on his ashen lips.

It seemed so long ago when they were carefree,
their hands jointly interlaced and being lazy.
Together cuddling her stomach, curving faintly,
he Kissing her gently with soft lips tenderly.
Into crystal shards, her heart shattered coldly,
image of him carrying the crucifix as men gloated,
upon which they did nail his tender body
because he died with forgiveness on his ashen lips.

Remembering his final words whispered faintly,
“you are my most cherished chalice, my lovely lady”,
“from your deep well of love, I did drink deeply”,
“now within your womb lies my immortality”,
“running through the veins of our unborn baby”,
“safely growing within your loving body, shielded”,
Her soul cries out in painful, anguished fury
because he died with forgiveness on his ashen lips.

A woman stood on the rocks looking out to sea,
struggling not to think of how her love died,
remembering only his love and not the men’s hatred
because he died with forgiveness on his ashen lips.

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