The Herb's Kitchen
A seal of holiness descends
Upon the kitchen floor,, Mrs. Bclaney and her friends Knit and discuss the war; Mrs. Belaney has a son— Had, I should say, perhaps—
Who deeds of gallantry has done, Him and some other chaps.
Into his hand the Seraphim Gave the destructive sword Beckoning; as they did, in him,
Creation's restless lord;, Fire and blood became his trade—
Gentle and clumsy one At home he was, but on parade Creation's awful son.
Mrs. Belaney feels the wall
Rustle with angel wings; Tears of a sacred nature fall Into the knitting things: Then begins tea, and cakes and pies
Muffle the ladies' chat;
Out of the shadows angel eyes Watch the encroaching fat.
GEORGE JOHNS1