Work Sharing

One I wrote quite some time ago, and the sonnet I responded to. It's only a bit of fun. No offence intended.

The Meditation of a Penitent Sinner, by Anne Locke, 1560.

(First extant sonnet published by a woman in England)

My many sinnes in nomber are encreast,

With weight wherof in sea of depe despeire

My sinking soule is now so sore opprest,

That now in peril and in present fere,

I crye: susteine me, Lord, and Lord I pray,

With endlesse nomber of thy mercies take

The endlesse nomber of my sinnes away.

So by thy mercie, for thy mercies sake,

Rue on me, Lord, releue me with thy grace.

My sinne is cause that I so nede to haue

Thy mercies ayde in my so woefull case:

My synne is cause that scarce I dare to craue

Thy mercie manyfolde, which onely may

Releue my soule, and take my sinnes away.

Get Off Your Knees Girl

My Response to A Penitent Sinner

For pity’s sake, lass, pull yourself together:

there’s no such thing as sinne, so don’t despair,

just keep the head, no need for woeful blether.

What is it you have done? Had an affair,

or something daft – forgot to say your prayers?

Stop crying now and take yourself in hand,

go out and face the world, ignore the stares

of God-botherers who think they understand

the mind of this Creator, if indeed

he exists at all. The man would not be God

if he were so pathetic and weak-kneed

to rate such wheedling from a cringing clod

like you. Stand up – for women everywhere,

be brave, no sackcloth, ashes – or underwear.

Sheena