VG (24/01/1979 / Epsom, East Surrey)

The Priest And Her

Church of her comforts, the doors did slam, shut out
World in that her soul felt pain, heart scattered about
To sit here in peaceful reflections, away from that place
Seeking counselling embrace, her yearning heart graced

For a priest of this parish, seeing this young maiden invoke
And to a welcome face were words of pain that she spoke
A heart of love and feelings, she did find console in him
For her she had experienced passion, now a guilty acronym

Through her tears she found clarity, in his words forgiving
Unrelentingly kind and thoughtful, finally she was receiving
Inside something started to boil, a hindered spirit, now awoke
The tasting of the blood of Christ, a desire she could not cloak

His understanding and guidance, she drew so close this heart
And inside she felt the love of her desires, hungry to depart
She dreamt of consuming him, being with him, holding him
And too much of this fantasy, became a slow nightmares rim

For the night did arise when she came to him, in this place
Approaching him softly, and stretched out for his embrace
Which moved; to a kiss upon his neck, tender and wondering
In his capture, moment’s weakness, he threw her away, resisting

She stumbled but regained, nothing else but him she so loved
For removing her dress; and she stood beautiful, so uncovered
Smooth, soft was her skin, a guiding finger down towards her
Touching a place where she yearned him inside, starving desire

For his restraint of so much time, now he could not hold back
Grasping her again, pulling her towards him, almost an attack
She yelped at this sudden onslaught, a release of this frustrate
For within this place they met, this moment they did fornicate

Within her as the sweat poured, the fury burned and love made
A love forebode by ruling of this moral time, secretly they laid
To speak not in daytime of this night time passionate, debauchery
Moonlit cover of a church roof, to bare witness to this treachery

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Rudyard Kipling


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