A couple of months with a couple: the monks (poem)

Friar Chris, the provincial traveler, an ascetic by nature, evangelic unraveler. While on his first pilgrimage, barefoot in the winter, he viewed her visage, and had to win her. It must have been god that stumbled him in as he thought, “I need a drink, caffeine… “hot… ‘Koffee?’ is the name of this spot? He opened the door, dripping all over the place. As the puddle seeped to the floor, he caught the lass’s face. In that gaze, his skin melted, but time froze.

Sister Shaina, ever the woman of chastity, charity, vitality, and vigilance. Was spending this winter day, and her paycheck, to give free drugs away. “They need it!” She nobly thought, “Heart warming caffeine, something hot!” And so it came to pass, a miracle from the love in this lass. She turned water into coffee with style and grace, holding the pot she noticed a new frigid face. In that gaze, her skin melted, but time froze.



Then time started. Each moment their eyes met retold each time they parted. A moment of a page of a story, each moment compounded cerebral glory. Shaina brought more guests to a lovely home, see it all reflect on his shiny dome. Heaping helpings of hilarity: Swarley’s cuteness and sprinkling charity… A pot luck for this, and friends-giving that: wave that turkey-call in your fist… while wearing Santa’s hat!

The Monks married and merry, cheeks and cheeks: rosy and cherry. Parties for guests, characters galore: beer makers, cheese cooks, engineers and more. I stumbled on senses of humor with holes and balls. Golf. And got to show off telephone pole charged fireballs!

What joy it’s been these friendly few months, I look forward to more with this couple:
The Monks!

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