The Preacher Man
written by: Gail Constable
Kissing him was my
Religion, his body
Was the Temple
Where I worshiped
Night and day.
His words were my
Scriptures, imprinted
On my mind, his
Voice was my choir,
Full of Holy songs.
My body burned in
The fires of Hell for
The Preacher man
I loved, he was my
Lover, my redeemer,
Now he’s long gone.
I thought he was my
Heaven on Earth,
Sin could be his
Name, but he was
Just a candle’s flame
On the altar of my
Pain.
Gail Constable is a published poet. Besides her passion for words, she is a vocalist with a love for music from opera to rock, mother, grandmother and loving friend. Gail claims to not write so much as have her poetry written through her, with a muse who draws inspiration from people, nature and life. Gail currently lives on beautiful Cape Breton Island in Canada.
Latest posts by Gail Constable (see all)
- Progress - October 15, 2024
- Spotlight On Writers – Gail Constable - July 27, 2024
- Time Travel in Sound - July 4, 2024
