Devil Sunday

It was Sunday morning, early,

I was going to go to church,

Re-establish with my Maker

Some connection, through a verse,

We would sing the same old Carols

It was Christmas, after all,

And the vicar in the pulpit

Would upbraid us, for our fall.

 

It was long since I’d attended,

It was years since I had thought

Of my Christian beginnings

In the Church they called St. Paul.

I had once sung as a choirboy

With a ruff about my face,

When I was a boy soprano

Singing loud, to lend him grace.

 

But I’d grown and looked around me

At the world and all its things,

And its science would astound me

As I learnt what money brings,

So I drifted slowly from the path

That led to Heaven’s Gate,

Until time was all around me,

Had I left my bid too late?

 

I remembered that he’d said

He noted every sparrow’s fall,

If his love was so encompassing

He surely loved us all.

All we needed was repentance

I repented now in spades,

For my part in an imperfect world

Whose glitter always fades.

 

I stepped outside to find that snow

Had fallen overnight,

Blanketing the coarser features

Of our world in white,

I stepped on out towards the Church

The snow crunched underfoot,

My burden was much lighter now

I’d thought, and understood.

 

A man in black approached me

And I recognised his gait,

He fell in step beside me

I supposed that it was fate,

‘I’ve been sent to collect you

From the offices downtown,

They said that you must come at once,

The estimates are down.’

 

‘Not possible,’ I answered,

‘I am on my way to Church,

You can tell them that I’m sorry

That I leave them in the lurch,

But I have a pre-appointment

With my Lord and Maker, God!’

He said, ‘Keep that one appointment,

You’ll be looking for a job!’

 

I shrugged, and then he left me

Disappeared the way he came,

But my shoulders felt much lighter,

Though I thought: ‘Well that’s a shame!’

But I pressed ahead, determined

That I wouldn’t be gainsayed,

On this day, the Christ Child’s birthday,

From the plan that I had laid.

 

But then an older woman called

For help, beside a gate,

She said, ‘Please sir, do help me

Or it may be far too late!

My husband’s in the parlour

And he’s had a sudden fit,

I need to call an ambulance,

Can you please see to it?’

 

I looked at her, remembered,

And I said, ‘You’re rather late,

You haven’t had a husband now

For seven years, or eight,

I really must be getting on

It’s quite a way to Church.’

She muttered, and she scowled at me,

And then, I heard her curse.

 

A car came round the corner

And it tried to run me down,

It slid along the footpath

As I jumped, and turned around,

The man behind the wheel had glared

Then drove away again,

To keep that straight and narrow path

Was going to bring me pain.

 

A lad on a toboggan slid

And took my feet from me,

I landed in a heavy fall

Of snow, most thankfully,

By then the Church was well in sight

I hobbled on ahead,

‘Til I could hear the singing

Of the Psalms, clear in my head.

 

A beggar tried to rob me

And a group of people swore,

As I at last limped painfully

Towards that old Church door,

‘God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen’

Began, and I turned round,

And with my hat saluted them,

The Devil’s Underground!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Tate Morgan]

it sure changes us doesnt it ,the day we decide to be good and selfless? So the friends we once called home no longer hang with us and leave uis to our fate. I see this same cultural phenominon on drug addicts. One who was once a addict then goes strait and the people he once called friends disapear like roaches in the light . Such is the path and the way of the straight and narrow. i might try it myself oneday .When i feel the copld hand of the end upon me .

[JM Russell]

Life`s little pitfalls do we fall or keep our gait.

[A Soap Mess Stories]

Nicely written story.

[A.r. Bazian]

again!
astounding!

[Siren]

This is great writing, right here. The determination and resolve is quite remarkable. I really enjoyed this. Thank you for sharing.

[Sheila Kline]

I am back to review this again as I feel there is a twist in the end that I failed to pick up as having left previous comments, there is something about the last line that indicates he was not intending to return to good - you do not say he entered the church, you only say he began, and then turned around. He would not "salute" that which he did not respect. We respect an officer, one who is of higher status than we with a salute, not one whom we are passing off. So, my former review is modified.....the man still acknowledged how evil of our life has a tight grip on us. Yes, the Devil's Underground had their work to do, and they got his attention! Now, did he proceed and enter the church, or do so with the meaning of his life still intact?

[Sheila Kline]

This is absolutely wonderful and one that zings me in the spirit, as I know well the wiles of the evil one and the legions of Hell!! The more we try to do good, to go about God's work, the harder they will work, and when we have been out of the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and are returning to seek Him, the demons attack us even more! Not to get in a sermon here for certain, but I certainly can see and understand how this poor soul who was seeking the forgiveness of his Holy Father, was so cleverly attacked by "The Angel of Light"!! We too become weary with the battle, and are at times as damaged as this poor gentlemen as he acknowledged them, but did not join them. We have to be aware of them! A tip of his hat was his chosen way!
Another inspiring and wonderful write my friend!!

[spiritwind]

This is so true!
The moment you resolve to do good
then all the demons in hell stir
and set out their sly little traps
to trip us up.
I liked this poem very much
especially for the slyness of the attacks!

[Marie]

I'm not getting the full meaning in this. The man didnothing wrong in his persistence to go to church did he?

[Geon Quuin]

Beautifully written. A strong provocative work. Nicely done. Long Live and prosper.
I give thanks to the malevolent Marshmallow for giving you His blessings to write this excellent piece.