At the game's start she was dealt a bad hand;
She found more common ground with the livestock;
Her own father's love was coarser than sand,
And the townspeople, her faith they would mock:
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Younger than most students, yet she taught all;
Protected her flock of both beasts and men;
From her apron violet flowers did fall;
In holy light her last years she would spend:
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Now gone, the time for miracles had come;
Ailments of every kind they prayed to heal;
On her pristine body, lime's work was done,
And years after to farmers, she sent meal:
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From you they always took, but you still gave,
To those that beat me down, I'll work to save.
YOU ARE READING
Saintly Sonnets
PoetryA collection of sonnets based around saints. I just need something else to write about.
