< sarcasm >

Sonnet

Attend, ye gods!                                                  

                               How wise, how wise are we!

to read “shall not” and hear, unsaid, “except.”

We have divined such grace as may accept

what elders, weak of conscience, could but flee.

Sit at our feet, ye wise!                                     

                                                        For tyranny

is born of certitude! Ought tales of Hell

not breed a fruitful doubt, or judgment quell

when truth of circumstance shall set you free?

Give praise, ye saints!                                     

                                          Who grasp the mystery

to overcome that last persistent sin

of loving not one's truest self within.

Choose blessings worthy of your jubilee!

In nomine God's liberality,

tolerant Christ, and Spirit's bonhomie.

~

< /sarcasm >