The blood of Lona
by John Clare Stokes...
Before him descended a legion of dragonflies
Sent to part the skeeter cloud
All about the curdling cries
The fall of blood from the skies
Parsing through the red sea of carnage
Grateful for this field of the dead
Who could discern the Master's plans
How his dragonfly army today would be fed?
Eek upon the crumbs thrown beneath tables
upon the heights over the finest gables
Fly the army of Lazarus over bloody ground
Ignoring cries to please send a Moses down.
Not even a dog remained to lick the wounds
As the waters of Lona turn a brilliant red
The dragonfly brigade obscuring a blood moon
The host of heaven over Lona again fed.
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