Queen Nefertiti Attends 8 o’clock Mass
The beautiful woman has come,
Possessed of charm, beloved one.
She times her entrance
precisely with the priest’s,
entering from the right,
he from the left.
Small, thin and proud at 65,
today she wears a long green velvet
cloak, an evening dress of gold lamế
medallion on her forehead.
Last Tuesday it was harem pants
a black top with spaghetti straps
and sandals, the rest of us in
jackets, hats and gloves.
At the holiest of moments,
the host raised for veneration,
she rises, drops her cloak,
smiles at her subjects.
She craves incense,
candles, altars,
an adoring crowd.
What better place to find them ?
“Ita missa est, “ The mass is ended.
Her red Camry joins the stream
of morning traffic. The young priest
drinks his coffee and wishes for
a day in ordinary time.
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