It was (you may say) satisfactory

It was (you may say) satisfactory

Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

When once there was a war above, not all
Was wrong. The heft of heaven is the strength
Of its stability. The walls, though tall,
Are not the point. Their thickness, height, and length
Are neither here nor there. They’re only four.
Contrasted with its twelve foundations, they
(These walls) are paltry. So, that means the war
Was hopeless. When Jehovah Jesus lay
Twelve jewelled layers underneath those streets,
Clear gold, the hopes of Lucifer were lost.
Unlike Olympus’ gods on marble seats,

The highest heaven’s trio was not tossed
About by hormone passions. God, and Christ,
And Spirit knew that purest love sufficed.