Coyprighted material of C.H. Green

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Tuesday, July 24, 2007



Heavy with the pride
of his jeweled body,
The angel fell
from his spot so heavenly
And so another spotless world
was marred
From the boughs of that perfect Tree.
Thick scales formed
and the wings with which he'd flown
Transformed themselves
into an ugly sheath,
and he cleverly cloaked himself
a creature of her world.
Oh my friend
how could she know or see...
The prince of Darkness
as an enemy?
He offered an ornately crafted lie
Once a gilded grain of Truth--
She took it willingly
and then she gave--
And then, my friend...she knew.

Cynthia H. Green

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