Cracked and bloodied feet left an inanimate trail on the snow-laden cobbles behind her. Mary, followed by the pervasive spirit of a waif, stumbled towards the Priory.
Beneath her shift, was a stomach swollen from a lie.
She did not seek gold for services rendered, she wanted the one they called Gabriel, and his promises to be kept.
Turned away by his brethren, she lay under a tree, and there in the snow on that bitter night, she gave her gift. The world was silent now; like shadows. The waif cradled her soul, and delivered them both to their maker.
Her Beauty took mine eyes
All along the Priory Row,
came a horse with naked cargo.
Not ain a shift did she wear,
to cover up she used her hair.
All shutters by order were closed tight,
to stop folk gawping at the sight.
One tailor, who had thrills to seek,
took a rather lustful peek.
Such beauty and a sinful sight did set poor Tom’s eyes alight.
Now that Tom is fully blind,
he carries the vision within his mind.
Leofric’s blood is running cold;
he will not get more peoples gold.
The towns folk of the coffers tree,
celebrate Godgifu’s lack of modesty.
A shaft of gold sunlight told me it was time to blow this priory apart. “Yo Mother Superior” I roused her from sleep “We’ve gotta shift ourselves” We readied our AK47’s, and kicked open the door of the sacristy, unleashing a hailstorm of bullets as we went. We took those bastard Friars by surprise. Her habit made her a sitting duck, but agility gave her the edge. “Grenade” she shouted but it was too late.
There was a white light then “Bill… Bill… Bill!! I told you to leave the Stilton and Port alone last night you’ve been dreaming again”