A Certain Village
Some years ago, I 'walked'
into this small pastorl
hamlet - quaint, pristine,
and...o-o-old Ohio.
The forties where still
unscathed by modern assumptions
and I mused at the ecstatic view.
Bathed in beatific sensation...
my soul recompensed heaven's
sumptuous smile with ditto
response...''praise ye! praise ye!
America is grand with unspeakable
mystique, 'please! '...preserve! ''
Alas, my supplication not acknowledged
and the minions veiled with impeding
vision...
they implemented their cause....
In 2007 my praise is transformed
to inverse stature as I Hate8...
Hell's fate!
(Oct.31,07)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem