THIS POEM HAS BEEN DELETED - MAY BE FOUND ON THE WEB
BY SEARCHING FOR POEMS BY JAMES T. ADAIR

Madonna upon the tea rose painted plaster wall
you faithfully weathered and lived it all
you with your halo and glaze of shiny white
your bleached robes reflecting the flourescent light
Baby Jesus naked in your arms, your knowing gaze; just right
you've silently witnessed all the fights, but speak not a word
until I turn out the last light each night





Sillouetted against a circular screen of powdered blue
you look out and scan the view, often just me alone and you
When l glance up at look left
The glazer painstakingly colored the fruit that forms around you, a frame
green stalks, and leaves,  brown pineapple, peaches pink,
golden yellow apples and then repeat the same
A colorful border, though simple you remain
Mary full of grace, your solitude and your huility mask your pain

Some faiths say you're insignificant but I can't say the same
when silently whisper your name, I feel your pain
and realize how you must have felt
when at his crucifiction you knelt
as you cried and prayed in vain
you couldn't stop it or his suffering pain
and upon my wall now your image is as regal as it is plain
You help me reflect upon my sadness that does remain
for much less than you were asked to bear
though at times it hurts and does overwhelm
and I only have myself to blame
and then reflecting again, what dawns on me is the fruit!
"blessed is the Fruit of thy womb: Jesus"
But tonight I feel your grace despite your pain
This silent night
I think it was your undying love that carried you through:
Holy is your name

©  James T. Adair