Saturday, October 27, 2007

When Divas Meditate

There came a fine fateful day,
The air was fresh and light.
There was a diva ,looking over the sunny bay,
Feeling overly righteous and upright.

How calm, how blissful,she wondered aloud
The saint in her conscience scaling new heights.
How vile,she thought,it is to cloud
One's divinity with earthly delights.

Then there came a tidal wave;
Splashing,raging without remorse.
Her silken stockings the diva couldn't save
And all benevolence lost its momentary recourse.

Woe of woes to them, who forfeit reason
So they may live to be unreasonable.
Woe of woes to the diva who revels in treason
So she may appear fashionable.

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