Holy Mary Poem by Kevin Patrick II

Holy Mary was a woman of stoical convictions
Spent 80 years of her life as a dedicated Christin
Eighty years of celibacy when her only man was Jesus
pure of mind and body and free of the best diseases

She made her bread and butter playing on her churches organ
Saving all her dough until she had a babies fortune
Her leisure time was misery as a grumpy busybody
Proselytizing teenagers when they dared to be so naughty

She liked to organize campaigns against the tv networks
Showing violence and sex kept her moral conscience irked
She monitored behaviors of what she thought obscene
Watching for depravity so the children could stay clean

Then one day she was writing in her little red book
Checking for the programs for the sinners she could cook
And she came upon a man whose vestige was her savior
With flowing hair so regal that ignited misbehaviors

She felt her pulse racing in a way that never rose
Her lips were wet with hunger she couldn't keep composed
And suddenly her fingers danced in ways they never moved
They were giddily excited in ways she couldn't reprove

Decades of repression burst into a flood of ecstasy
Her body felt the pleasures of a thousand heresies
With the magic of her fingers running between her thighs
For the first time in existence she truly felt alive


Then suddenly she burst and reached her greatest climax
And then her pulse blew and the light faded to black
But her face produced a smile which showed her happy fate
Holy Mary was at peace and now at her pearly gate