by Anton Wills-Eve

<a href=””>Transformation</a&gt;


well, it is a transformation I’ve been expecting.                                                  

                              MY PRICE    

Perhaps only three months, God!  Maybe five more at most?

Then for me,

It’s afternoon tea,

For eternity with The Holy Spirit and Your heavenly Host!

Oh well, at least I’m flying upwards, not falling down.

Hell’s much too hot,

With the skin I’ve got.

I don’t so much tan, as just peel and never go brown.


But hang on, God. You promised me plenty of time to finish my books.

What, I wasted it all?

But It wasn’t my call!

You said to never neglect anyone in need, did you never see the looks


Of pleading and begging that each poor sufferer and each sinner had?

All so full of doubt,

I helped them out,

How could I desert them, forever believing you could really be so bad


That you’d leave them all dejected, bereaved, destitute and bereft?

So I fed the hungry too,

Saying it was from You.

And they thanked You  as we parted, for in their hearts Your  love I’d left.


Dear God, is this honestly all the time I have got left here with You?

Did I spend all  my few days

Teaching the poor to praise

And love You as as totally as You, and I myself,  know I always do?


“No, Anton, that wasn’t all you spent your leisure, pleasure and free time on,

Remember Nicole, Lucia, Rita, Sue,

And lovely Nguyen Ouanh Anh too?

I forgive you. But they  took up your time. I’m so sorry, but I’m afraid it’s gone!”