Holiness of the Child
by Jennifer Gunther
 

Barefeet running to and fro, the wild white water splashing on the shores.
Arms straining, growing weaker by the minute, to hold unto a mighty timber limb.
Small juvenile nails filling up with bits of soil, while inspired hands form the ideal dirt delicacy.
A tender voice singing of lambs and snow, begins to blossom as angels listen.
Holiness of the child, stays with her as she grows.
Loving and constant, yet purely wild.
Will virtue leave her, Only God knows...
Glittering eyes of a nymph-like child, gaze upon a charming a nil woman,
while she does her daily chores. A dandelion tickles a button-like nose,
as the wind rummages through tresses of cherubic hair.
Legs grow longer and the little arms grow stronger,
as she ripens into a ladyfair, a pristine Aphrodite.
Olive skin as soft as a peach, slowly blooming into a young woman.
Holiness of the child, stays with her as she grows.
Her life unfolding as it should. Will innocence leave her?
Only God knows....
A mind matures with age, as the seed of knowledge rapidly grows.
Yearning eyes seek books of wisdom, absorbing words of the apostles, the ancient authors.
A mouth, the color of red wine, speaks only truth and integrity.
Hard working hands write for hours, even though her long fingers tire.
Holiness of the child, stays with her as she grows.
Her senses in unblemished tunes. Will her purity leave her?
Only God knows....
A dress of white clothe and lace, attires the curveous body of a woman.
Flowers decorate the walls, as amazing rays shine through the church's stained glass.
A veil, of pure beauty and length, attires the silky tresses upon her head.
She walks down the aisle; at a steady pace, 
Finally to say I do with God's given blessing and grace.
Holiness of the child, stays with her as she grows.
She's found her love. Innocence saved for a reason...Why?
Only God knows.…

-
Poem copyright © 2004 by Jennifer Gunther 

Enchanting Words
by Mauricio Javier González
 

The children, barefooted and with gleaming little faces, 
gathered excitedly around their father under the crummy wooden porch.
The youngest found his lap taken and sat on the ground, 
his scraped legs crossed Indian style. 
With heads tilted upward and one hand under their chins, 
they listened to the man whose enchanting words did not match his ragged shirt and overalls. 
Yet, the children listened like members of congress listen to a president or parliament to a prime minister.
Only here, afterwards, the children hugged, kissed, 
and climbed all over the speaker.
-Poem copyright © 2004 by Mauricio Javier González 

 Keep the Fires Burning
by Juli Bey

 Roaring, crackling fire, 
tongues of bright red and orange, chase the frost away.
A cheer goes up as more logs are added.
People gather closer, huddling in the cold, smiling, laughing.
Piercing screams of agony rise from the fire, drowning the scorning laughter.
Her beautiful face, twisted, scorched.
Sharp stench of burning hair, skin, bones.
Flesh falls away as burnt pages of an abandoned book.
A roar of approval shakes the crowd 
as the screams die; the witch dies.
Their bloodthirst satisfied, they lead their children 
back to their homes to say their nightly prayers 

before falling into the peaceful sleep of the innocent.
-Poem copyright © 2004 by Juli Bey

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