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“I saw the birth of that child.
The one of white washed wall nativity,
A clueless florid smile
Visage blessed by symmetry
“O, its mother did travail
Her eyes all pain distorted and her knuckles falling wan
But the spoils that her toil entailed
Were a cherub to lay endless love on”
Make no mention of the illegitimate child.
He’ll be forgiven in the morrow.
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I'm liking the first two stanzas- the syntax fits right into biblical writing, Miltonesque almost. But the ending falls a little flat for me, compared to the rest. I know it's suppose to be pithy, but it didn't really ring for me.
