by Paul Christian StevensThe Magus, summoned to the Mercy Seat,
Presented himself to the High Priestess, his pockets
Stuffed full of poems so radiant with once-
In-a-lifetime power, they glowed right through his clothes --
Clear evidence for any possessed of sight --
Thus broke his desperate oath to keep the secret:
Face aflame, eyes welded to her gaze,
He awkwardly stammered love, on love, on love.
Paul Christian Stevens was born in Yorkshire, England but lives in Australia. He has an Honours degree in Early English Language and Literature, and is a teacher by profession. He has published poems and prose in print and pixel, most recently or imminently in The Barefoot Muse, Shakespeare's Monkey Revue, Contemporary Sonnet, Soundzine, The Literary Bohemian, The HyperTexts, Umbrella, Lucid Rhythms, Ourobouros Review, Innisfree, Snakeskin, The Raintown Review, Language and Culture, Not Just Air and Pirene's Fountain. He edits The Chimaera literary miscellany and The Flea and serves as a selection panelist for the online sonnet magazine 14by14.
He says, "my favourite fruit is that of the Lotos, which whosoever receives and tastes, to him or her the gushing of the wave far far away seems to mourn and rave on alien shores. When that's not available at Woolies I quite like pomegranates, apples, and the useful goji berry."
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