The Humbled Puritan
Brandon Cook
I always thought in protest,
As any Protestant should
That frills are frivolous
And guilt their just dessert
(And dessert a guilt)
But I see you there: The Wine Drinker
The same as He the wine did make
And still with perfume’s scent
Upon your robe’s bright filament
With no shadowed brow for pleasure gained
But a prayer of thanks and mercy
To the Father,
Same Who made the rain to fall
And cleanse the land, with pleasure instead of pain
So here’s to you, my glass I lift
And as it kisses both my lips
I join creation’s song (I think)
And the secret of the saints--
Those who've learned to worship
Of this earth’s goodness
Where, like rain,
Pleasure need not leave a stain