Contrary Mary Poem by ed purchla

Lucky for Mary, hailing
From Wales, trying to
Vivify a dying church.

In the sky she did see, arcs
Of enigmatic
Lights, spilling down a mountain.

Flashes she could not fathom,
Defied her senses,
Until she found them holy.

Like a game of Telephone,
From one to the next,
The Egryn Preacher's tale spread.

Soon, the chapel, shrouded in
Dead silence, reeled back
The lapsers and prodigals.

Hook, line and sinker, people
Did flock, renewing
Their faith, credence in Mary.

Called the Welsh Revival, spun
First by Roberts, then
Through Mary's effluvium.

Certainly, one need wonder
Had Mary seen aught,
Or had the perfect chance come?

To weave UFO lore with
Disillusionment,
When it left the preacher's lips.