Sonnet XV Good Friday. 3PM.

The darken’d Sun turns sharply to the West
The crying women now a muffl’d sound
The crowds still gaping silent stand around
The Roman circus ceases to molest

The body nearly now by life unbound
Unseen the Angels horror gathering now
Penultimate redemption’s dying bow
In spittle blood and urine stains the ground

Divinely plan’d this death he will endow
With life enclos’d in Jesus holy grasp
And univers’ly shared in dying gasp
Tho questing Faith sees not nor questions how

As Satan opens Hell For Heaven’s guest
The victor’s crying Consumatus Est!

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This is my last sonnet for 2018… but more will come. There’s 16 more, I think, in the list for Holy Week.

Author: Huw Richardson

A Dominican Tertiary living in San Francisco, CA. He feeds the homeless and is studying to be a Roman Catholic Deacon. He enjoys cooking, keto, cats, long urban hikes, and SF Beer Week.

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