7th Draft 4-5pm

In the beginning, once upon a trend

dates and legend were soaked in ale

wrapped in fables to suspend

belief, a drug when exhaled

hung on moveable feasts, trailed

like performing cuisine.

Religion, that flash of fiction hailed

God at the table of Myth, serene.

 

Jesus, Lennon and Elvis contend

that they just left their buildings – regaled

fans with magical mystery to fend

off indistinction. Faith can’t fail

it burrows deep and fame impales

the stalker, the weakening gene.

Worshipping people unveil

God at the table of Myth. Serene

 

in God they trust, they work hard, spend

lifetimes eating fairytales

wearing thin excuses to defend

the pain of lost prayers and stale

promises as horror prevails

like a peat fire underground, obscene

in its offensive wail.

God sits at the table of Myth, serene.

 

Envoi

 

Faith in you and fame are bound, nailed

the weight of fear roasted, seared.

I dare you, bare the truth – all hail

God at the table of Myth, serene.

 

Oops, I think I’ve gone off the trail again with the faith/fame thing and need to change that last (penultimate) line.

A blend of spice sprinkled, infused. All hail

So, the 8thdraft should only differ slightly with punctuation, perhaps.

And at 6 pm I give you draft 8


In the beginning, once upon a trend

dates and legend were soaked in ale

wrapped in fables to suspend

belief, a drug when exhaled

hung on moveable feasts, trailed

like performing cuisine.

Religion, that flash of fiction hailed

God at the table of Myth. Serene

 

Jesus, Lennon and Elvis contend

that they’d just left their buildings, regaled

fans with magical mystery to fend

off indistinction. Faith can’t fail

it burrows deep and fame impales

the stalker, the weakening gene.

Worshipping people unveil

God at the table of Myth. Serene

 

in God they trust, they work hard, spend

lifetimes eating fairytales

wearing thin excuses to defend

the pain of lost prayers and stale

promises as horror prevails

like a peat fire underground, obscene

in its offensive wail.

God sits at the table of Myth, serene.

 

Envoi

 

Faith in you and fame are bound, nailed

the weight of fear roasted, seared

blended spice sprinkled, infused. All hail

God at the table of Myth, serene.

 

Famous for dying – Jesus, Lennon, Elvis

they all left the building. Fame fanned the flames

and turned them into suns

not sons of man.

 

Wait a minute – forgot about this:

 

sons of man become suns. All hail

 

Faith in you and fame are bound, nailed

the weight of fear roasted, seared –

sons of man become suns. All hail

God at the table of Myth, serene.

 

Think I’ve got it now – so, the last version is the 9thdraft at 6.30pm on 6.7.11

 

The End

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