Jezebel prayed and Jezebel wept
for want of a promise that could not be kept.
What in this world could a poor farm girl do?
God’s wrath invoked? Why must she rue?
Lo, her call was answered, o joyous day!
yet not by the being to which she had prayed…
He rose from the shade, a handsome and virile fellow
perhaps forged from the flames of an infernal bellows.
He promised to aid her, guide her, show her the way
“This service,” she said. “I have no way to pay.”
Said he to her, “You certainly do, my fair fettered clover.”
Smolder visage, honey words; he soon won her over.
Thus began an odd union, new life would soon grow.
‘Tween Earthbound and Hell, 13 seeds to be sown…
Author Brad Acevedo 