Crimson-faced Christ squinted in the afternoon sun
He began to feel the strain of his own weight
Most of the sweaty-sandled rabble had wandered off by now, only a few remained
A scorpion scurried under a red rock previously used for a stoning
One of the Centurions yawned just as the Nazarene opened his eyes
Realizing that his bladder was full
That's when I landed on his nose, as my wings were getting tired
He began to feel the strain of his own weight
Most of the sweaty-sandled rabble had wandered off by now, only a few remained
A scorpion scurried under a red rock previously used for a stoning
One of the Centurions yawned just as the Nazarene opened his eyes
Realizing that his bladder was full
That's when I landed on his nose, as my wings were getting tired
Copyright, 2007, G. C. Morrice
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