Late for the Nativity
I stand among the throng
Self-consciously
Singing with the angels
Quietly
Sensing the future
Yearning out
In front of me
Revealed
Symbolically
How it will
Always be
Odd one out
For all to see
…
The only angel
Without wings
*
by Gail
*
The air is rarified up on the fence
As clear as far as watered eye can see
All silken blue, all glittered light intense
Translucent fathoms of infinity
Way down below, a long stone’s drop away
Through depths of fog and lazy clouded streams
The land lies; half in shadow, half in day
Divided by the fence in two extremes
New womb from yearning grave, dark black from white
The right from left, cool blue from burning red
Each country hidden from the other’s sight
Like crazy virgins doomed to never wed;
The angel of the fence can only pray
Don’t send me down there now, Lord, not today
*
by Gail
the crazy preacher man
he speaks
to me
I and the crowd
hypnotised
confused
and squinting
his shadow stands
before the sun
his silver words
are slivering
forth from ancient nets
fisher of men
gathering
it may be so
maybe it was
ever so
and so
some say
it may well
ever be
yet know ye this
that nothing new
shall ever stand
against the sun
and speak as He
*
by Gail
Pearls and Swine
*
snuffling for truffles
scenting morsels of delight
delirious swine
*
drowning in the oyster beds
drunk on mysterious wine
*
by Gail
gailfromdevizes 
