The Elated Confessant (My First Holy Confession)

by Tony Grannell   Mar 24, 2020


The succulent lips of liberation
sucked the wobble off
my stuttering confession
in a single slurp of repentance.
Stunned to elated awe
as each guilt-ridden peccadillo
liquesced into
absolving effervescence,
such were the powers
of my pious collard confessor,
from where,
in his mystical cupboard,
rid me of my devilish stains.
Wrapped in panicked earnestness
and with impenetrable gusto
I fervently honoured
that which I deserved:
my given penance.
A rack of devotions
offered on high,
in heated haste,
bowed, avowed
on bare-bended knees,
in sufferance: applauded,
in prayer: adulated
until enrobed in
the ethereal veils of
euphoria's benediction.
I encored with a
zest charged genuflection
escorting me out from
the cowl of darkness,
cleansed in the crystal fountains
of hallowed waters
and into the paradisiacal
joys of creation
where I pirouetted madly
around the halos of salvation,
warping and wafting
in ecstatic choreography.
Splendidly I, ablaze in
phosphorescent holiness,
such brilliance exciting
the gathering halleluiahs
into glorious detonations,
scattering me about in
giddy sparks of illuminated exalté.
I danced wild with forgiveness,
blessedness swarming over me
as the heavens bellowed forth
in measured splendours
with their gargantuan choirs
pelting out psychedelic hosannas
amongst the zigzagging flocks
of electric powered angels
riding bareback on the
holy stoned lambs of merriment,
guffawing on high
whilst howling out,
‘Come on baby light my fire’.

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