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Veronica - Villanelle

by Tamara Beryl Latham

While I stood in the midst that final day
and held a handkerchief of linen white,
His form moved past me as I knelt to pray.

Daylight was masked by ebony and grey
and yet I kept his movement in my sight,
while I stood in the midst that final day.

His garments, torn and tattered, soiled and frayed,
hung loosely; He appeared devoid of fright,
His form moved past me as I knelt to pray.

Cries of lament were heard; yet, none would say
He was the Christ, our Savior and the Light,
while I stood in the midst that final day.

Though obstacles were cast into His way,
He trudged along the path; refused to fight,
His form moved past me as I knelt to pray.

I moved to wipe His brow without delay,
His imprint cast forever, sanguine bright.
While I stood in the midst that final day,
His form moved past me as I knelt to pray.

1 Timothy 6:11-13
But thou, O man of God, flee these things; and follow after righteousness, godliness, faith, love, patience, meekness. Fight the good fight of faith, lay hold on eternal life, whereunto thou art also called, and hast professed a good profession before many witnesses. I give thee charge in the sight of God, who quickeneth all things, and before Christ Jesus, who before Pontius Pilate witnessed a good confession; That thou keep this commandment without spot, unrebukable, until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ:

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This poem won 1st place for the October 2018 poetry contest

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