Superb poetry from Mike Steeden here; my reblogs always beggar up so I’m pasting it along with the linkage to the original through the title. Enjoy the feast my dears . . .

THE SCULLERY MAID

a nebula of apathy
dims the moral high ground
there is nothing enlightening to unearth
atop Mount Virtue
no reward at all
however cathartic
the climb

looking down from the crest
the ever open canopy
the lush savannah plains
a land the Blameless
claim to be a defiled Eden
a place of half-forgotten passion
of raw lust
of biased life

consumed with envy
he dropped to his knees and
wept tears of
self-pity

the girl Lilith was
born of Mother Earth

once a self-righteous
poker faced nincompoop
named her an
‘unclean animal’

from the watcher’s chaste vantage point
and remorse riddled remembrance
‘animal’ was appropriate enough
he bore the scars to prove it yet
‘unclean’ an unfortunate
cruel satire

certainly, and
to his cost
he could verify her…
‘unrepressed appetite’
she who would and had
eaten him up and
spat him out
let her cleavage
do the talking
laughed in his face?
he was never quite sure
about that

yet each and every time
he left the stratus behind
went below stairs for
more of the same
she would smile mischievously
call him her archangel
lead him back
from whence he came
pull apart the crisp bedcovers
momentarily hesitate
dismiss the idea
guide him by determined hand
to the work table in the scullery
and let him feast

such was life for His Lordship
and his scullery maid