COLORS /  by Joe Castorino

My life was a grey overcast,

Punctuated by deadly

Black storms that brought

Me nothing but terror and doom:

Wicked white lightnings and

Fierce hellish hurricanes

Made me shudder with fear;

But now my life is a glassy blue

Marian sea whose waves

Caress me with great tenderness,

And the gentle Winds of the Spirit

Lead me to the Harbor of Heaven,

Where the royal red blood of

Divine Mercy redeems my soul.

DIVINE MERCY AT PEYTO LAKE /  by Joe Castorino

As I struggle up the steep path,

My legs now feel much heavier,

And I wonder if the view will really

Be worth the arduous journey;

I see a sage old man approach,

Bearded like one of the prophets,

When I ask if I should continue,

He winks at me and nods yes;

Finally, when I reach the summit,

I behold the Valley of Heaven -- 

I breathe the Holy Spirit into my

Soul, and then exhale a smile;

The snow-capped mountains

Glisten in the warm soothing Light,

As the lovely lake glimmers from 

The Divine Mercy rays of the Son.

DIVINE MERCY AT MORAINE LAKE /  by Joe Castorino

It is a bright beautiful morning in the

  crisp clean air of the Canadian Rockies,

We ascend as I drive up a wonderfully

  windy road past babbling brooks,

The two of us are together, in the car that

we affectionately refer to as the “Tin Can”;

After reaching the sunny summit,

  we gently roll into the Valley of the Ten Peaks;

We finally arrive at the large lake and 

  look up at the regal ring of mountains,

Yet I feel slightly saddened because

  somehow it’s less than I expected;

A lodge that looks like a big log cabin

  stands silently like a sentinel near the water,

We decide to dine there and enjoy a 

  delightful bit of roast beef for lunch;

The savory flavor of my sandwich lingers

  in my mouth, as I think about my morning,

I try to cunningly convince myself that 

  I’m not disappointed, but I know that I am. 

 

Departing for our next destination,

  I wistfully walk towards our little car,

But as I look to the right, I see a

  tar-black hill with a winding trail upon it;

The people look like pilgrims as they

  make their way up the mysterious mound,

Curiosity gradually grows within me as I 

  ponder, puzzled, where the path leads;

So I investigate and struggle up the steep

  trail, tripping occasionally on rock and rubble,

But when I get to the top, I am frozen

  with fascination as I behold the view;

Above me is a diadem of snow-tipped peaks,

  gleaming with the glory of God,

Below me is the pristine lake, and it is

  shimmering and sparkling like a gemstone;

It appears as if millions of sapphires

  and emeralds have melted into liquid,

And the blue-green color of the 

  lovely lake is luminous in the sunshine.

 

My senses are suddenly soaked in Your

  Holy Spirit’s lasting love, and I feel Your beauty,

At this moment, nothing else matters,

  and I only long to be close to You;

At this moment, I am oblivious to my past,

  and I am oblivious to my future,

I am living in the eternal and

  mystical present of the great I AM;

You are Holy Humility, You are

  Magnificent Mercy, You are Limitless Love,

And with Your divine sense of humor,

  You really are the God of surprises.

A MISSION OF DIVINE MERCY /  by Joe Castorino

As I gradually look up,

  I see luminous rose petals

Fall gently and delicately

  From the sky like snow,

Eucharistic-white

  In the deep dark night.

 

My mission is prayer

  In the dark night of the unseen,

My mission is surrender

  In the dark night of unknowing,

My mission is love

  In the dark night of the cross.

 

The path before me is

  Strewn with radiant roses that

Glow like glorious lamps,

  So I faithfully travel it and find

The Eucharistic Light

  That transfigures the dark night.

THE OCEAN OF DIVINE MERCY /  by Joe Castorino

I hesitantly open the door

of the confessional and

to my utter surprise

I see a beach before me:

as I approach the waters

of gentle aquamarine,

my hot feet, crusty

and blackened with

guilt, are cleansed by

Jesus’ holy hands;

He leads me into the ocean,

whose welcoming waves

of delightful divine mercy

kiss and caress my soul,

cooling and refreshing me,

and peace and joy

rush through me, and

as love ripples and rhymes,

sweetening my soul,

I am born again.

THE CHAPEL OF DIVINE MERCY /  by Joe Castorino

My Via Dolorosa

has brought me here,

so I drag myself into

the dark chapel,

my body weakened

under the weight of

my crosses and woes,

and I am hopeless.

But here, kneeling,

my hands knotted together,

deep in prayer,

I surrender all to Him,

and, behold, a soft light

like that of a little candle

emanates from the

holy tabernacle.

Then as it gradually

intensifies and brightens,

the wick of my soul is lit,

and I relax in His presence,

my heart smiling as I am

completely enveloped in

the luminous Sonshine

of Divine Mercy.

divine mercy: ENLIGHTENED BY THE HOLY EUCHARIST /  by Joe Castorino

I stagger and stumble        

and struggle through life,    

my brain twisted into knots    

by perplexing problems,         

by a delirium of doubts,    

by a flurry of fickle fears;    

so Our Lady of Love            

takes me by the hand        

and gently leads me to        

The Divine Mercy,        

where He is enthroned in His        

regal monstrance of gold,    

and I pour out my heart    

before His Holy Majesty;    

from His Most Precious Body    

two beams of bright light,    

both red and white,        

burn through the darkness,    

illuminating my mind,        

and the Truth has set me free.

THE CHALICE OF DIVINE MERCY /  by Joe Castorino

When I scourge you with my sins

But then ask you for forgiveness,

Your most treasured blood

Trickles like tears into my heart;

When my thorny sins crown you,

But then I tell you that I’m sorry,

Drops of your royal red blood

Sink soothingly into my spirit;

Then, when I sincerely surrender

My whole heart and soul to you,

My lance of love pierces you,

And your beautiful blood spills

In terrific torrents from your

Chalice of Divine Mercy,

And my thirsty soul drinks in the

Sweet new wine of the Spirit.

AN ACT OF THANKSGIVING: TO JESUS THROUGH MARY /  by Joe Castorino

All-powerful,

Most holy,

Most high,

And supreme God,

I am so sorry for hurting you:

I impudently spat upon your sorrowful face,

I violently scourged your most blessed body,

I scornfully crowned your holy head with thorns, 

I savagely kicked you when you fell with the cross,

I cruelly crucified your flesh with stinging nails;

In short, I have bitterly tortured you

With every single one of my sins against you.

I despise and abhor all my many sins,

Including any in the past

That I’ve withheld from you —

Mortal sins or venial sins —

Or never confessed honestly,

Or forgot about;

And I accuse myself of being guilty

Of high treason,

Against your Divine Majesty,

Deserving to be executed —

And exiled — 

Because my sins offend you,

Lord God,

Who are all good,

Supremely good,

Totally good,

Who alone are good.

You deserve only

My heartfelt love

And blind obedience

To your holy will.

Therefore, I hereby make

This declaration and resolution:

I am absolutely and utterly determined,

Through your sweet holy graces

And your unfathomable divine mercy,

To be your obedient slave,

Through Our Lady,

The Queen of All Hearts,

And to be your faithful servant,

Who with promptitude runs away

From the false enticements of all sin,

And the empty allure of all temptation.

Instead, I completely surrender myself

Into your warm embrace,

And with a humble heart,

Bountifully overflowing

With sincere thanksgiving

For your magnificent mercy,

I receive your loving 

Kiss of peace.

Amen.

CHRIST THE COURAGEOUS /  by Joe Castorino

Philovanitas didn’t want a spiritual life

  Where she had to follow lots of rules,

For her the Church was run by men

  Who were really a bunch of old fools;

A free life where she could decide

  Was her idea of sensible fun,

So she steered her ship into enticing seas

  While soaking up some sun;

But the evil one launched a surprise attack

  And thunder she started to hear,

A tempest rushed in with frantic fingers

  And tried to strangle her with fear;

Like demonic fireworks, lightning exploded

  Fanatically all across the sky,

And murderous rain came down like daggers,

  So it was impossible for her to stay dry.

 

 

Philovanitas was trapped like a captive

  At sea in a savage Storm of Deception,

She spun her ship around in the wild, wicked

  Wind and lost all sense of direction;

She was engulfed by the tangled, twisted

  Waves of venomous and violent temptation,

And so she paid the ultimate price

  For her silly pursuit of sensation;

She stood aghast in terror as the breakers

  Blasted against her vessel,

And her formidable foe was far too strong

  For her to ever even attempt to wrestle;

She said, “Oh, dear Lord Jesus, please please

  Rescue me from this frightfully horrid place,

I’m sincerely sorry for my sins and want

  Nothing more but to see your sweet face!”

 

She turned around and before her stood

  One whose robe was most dazzlingly white,

On His head was a glistening gold crown,

  Set with gemstones radiant and bright;

With love He compassionately caressed her

  With his wonderfully warm brown eyes,

And his mild, merciful smile rescued

  Her heart and made her spirits arise;

Then He looked up, thrust His arms into the air

  And commanded the storm to be still,

The tempest immediately retreated

  And was obedient to His holy will;

Back fled the thunderclouds, back fled

  The lightning bolts, to the dark abyss of hell,

The sun now shone cheerfully, the sea now

  Splashed gleefully, and all was well.

 

At this the evil one foamed at the mouth

  Like the monstrous madman Othello,

He wanted revenge and he wanted it now

  So he vehemently started to bellow;

In a gruesomely gravelly voice he raged,

  “All hands on deck! Attack! Attack!”

And as the pirate demons sped by,

  He gave each one a menacing whack;

The pirate demons loaded up their weapons,

  For the spiritual blitzkrieg was on,

Time was of the essence, otherwise

  Their opportunity might be all gone;

They boarded their ghastly ghost ships

  Like a swarming plague of flies,

They fanatically followed their emperor,

  And he be the Father of Lies.

 

Soon the ghost galleons’ powerful armada

  Half-surrounded Philovanitas’ ship,

The evil one stood up like a hunchback

  And was ready to crackle his whip;

Impatiently pacing, back and forth,

  He was like a lion that was ready to devour,

But when he saw the handsome Holy One,

  His attitude really turned sour;

With a slobbering spit of hot yellow sulphur,

  The evil one gave his sign,

And the pirate demons loaded their weapons

  While drinking some stale wart-hog wine;

The great Battle for Philovanitas’ Soul

  Was almost ready to commence,

And for the angelic crowd in the clouds,

  There was certainly growing suspense.

 

The Father most kind and gentle humbly

  Sent down the sweet Spirit of love,

Carrying a sword from the celestial heights,

  The Spirit was shaped like a dove;

He shot down from Heaven like a sunbeam

  Through a sky that was stunningly blue,

And He delivered the sword to Jesus,

  The Lord who makes all things new;

With a hilt of gold and a blade of steel

  The sword was razor-sharp,

And when Christ the Courageous swung it round,

  It sounded like a melodious harp;

Swinging the Sword of the Spirit was

  Something for which Jesus had a knack,

So He turned around, got in the ready position,

  And waited for the enemy to attack.

 

With that the devil’s hateful, hellish heart

  Burned like Halley’s Comet,

So he gave the signal to attack

  And sulphurous lava he began to vomit;

The demon archers with cryptic crossbows

  Shot electric arrows into the air,

The arrows buzzed like a swarm of sparkling

  Bees as they targeted Philovanitas’ hair;

But Jesus exhibited tremendous athleticism

  And certainly He frustrated His foe,

With His sword He deflected the electroarrows

  And they fizzed into the sea below;

The devil saw that the arrows were useless

  And it was time to turn to flaming missiles,

These are the kind that blaze through the air

  With terrifying and eerie whistles.

 

Jesus then changed His grip on the holy sword

  As if He would stab Death in the heart,

Then He flung the sword like a spiraling spear

  And it gave the devil a start;

When the sword struck the sea, there was a

  Blinding flash and a deafening sonic boom,

For the evil one and his pirate demons

  This could certainly only spell doom;

A supersonic shock wave swiftly fanned out

  Like Saturn’s colorful rings,

It explosively ripped through the devil’s galleons

  By the power of the King of kings;

The devil and his pirate demons were blown right back

  Into their dark, infernal pit,

And because of where they were painfully injured,

  They found it very hard to sit.

 

Jesus saw that the splintered wood from the

  Galleons was strewn all over the sea,

Troublesome temptation had been driven out

  And Philovanitas was finally free;

Jesus turned around and saw her trembling

  Because she had such a terrible fright,

So He took His bride into His arms

  And then embraced her very, very tight;

Jesus said, “Henceforth you shall be ‘Philothea’

  For now you love God above all,

I shall always love you as a treasure

  And be with you whenever you call”;

Then He tenderly kissed her cheek

  And she felt the softness of His bearded curls,

Never had Philothea felt so special,

  Even more precious than the rarest of pearls.

 

He pierced her soul with truest love,

  And her heart brimmed with Heavenly light,

Thanks to Christ the Courageous,

  Philothea’s spiritual eyes regained their sight;

With a peaceful smile on His face,

  The Lord wiped away her happy tears,

Her heart was so full of contentment

  And banished were all her fears;

She learned that freedom’s not freedom

  Without love and responsibility,

And avoiding the near occasion of sin

  Involves a lot of spiritual agility;

In the brisk balmy breeze, Jesus’

  Flowing hair so very gently swirled,

He said, “Behold I am with you always,

  Even unto the end of the world.”

THE MAGIC RIVER /  by Joe Castorino

A Prequel to “The Lady of Stellamare”

Act I

When Thaliela was six years old

And her sister Rosinella was five,

Petrio, the sage old prophet,

Paid an unexpected visit

To their happy family;

As they were all sitting

Around a fire on the hearth,

He told the young girls

What would happen when

They came of age.

If they chose well,

He said they were both

Destined to marry well,

To fine handsome young men,

And he explained the

Beautiful life that awaited them

When they finally came of age

At the ripe age of sixteen.

Rosinella clung tightly to

Every single word

That Petrio uttered,

While Thaliela was lost

In daydreaming and

Didn’t pay much attention.

When Petrio was almost finished,

He firmly cautioned each of them

Not to get distracted because

The river can be very deceptive;

He advised them to keep

Their attention and remain

Completely focused on

Safely reaching the promised one

That awaited each of them,

Always steering upstream

And not downstream,

But the impatient Thaliela

Didn’t hear a word he said.

 

Act II

There, in the distance,

Atop that mystical mountain,

Is a grandiose garden

That is ringed by a crown of

The most radiant roses;

From it gushes forth

A crystalline river

That sparkles in the sun

Like dazzling diamonds.

One day a dark-haired

Beauty who had

Glistening green eyes

Had come of age,

So she entered a little

Black boat and

Began to row.

It was Thaliela

And she looked forward

To finally meeting

Her future beloved

At the garden’s

Golden gate;

Indeed, far far above her,

Far beyond her view,

A fair-haired youth was standing

Amidst the glorious roses.

Thaliela started rowing

Uphill towards the garden —

That was the one thing

She did remember from Petrio —

But the water was so smooth

And so wonderfully silky

That she closed her eyes

And gradually fell asleep;

When she awakened,

Her boat had drifted

Far far downstream

From where she had started.

She noticed that the water

Had changed color and

Was now a pretty pink,

And she saw that

In the distance it

Was the fantastical and

Imaginative color of fuchsia.

Thaliela was captivated

By its vibrant color --

then fragrant fruit trees

Caught her attention,

And for quite some time

She became mesmerized by

The lush forest of fine fruit trees

That came right to the banks

Of the magical river;

The trees were loaded with fresh,

Sweet-scented tropical flowers

That bloomed forth like a

Veritable rainbow of color;

She closed her green eyes,

Smiled, and soaked in

These romantic delights with

A heart filled with wonder.

 

Act III

But she didn’t notice that

The river became steeper,

And the water was now

Traveling at a greater velocity;

Suddenly, Thaliela’s boat was jerked by

A powerful current that quickly

Snapped her out of her reverie;

Thaliela now found herself

Tumbling through blood-red rapids

That were alarmingly getting

Warmer and warmer;

A few minutes later,

The water was starting to boil,

And as she looked for an escape

To the shore, she saw to her dismay

That everything had

Dramatically changed;

Tall twisted trees,

Blackened and charred

By the intensifying heat,

Hung their weakened

Arms over the fiery-red

River, as if imploring Thaliela

To paddle back upstream;

But it was too late,

Soon her little boat became

Frightfully disfigured,

Melting like molten wax

In the lava-like flood;

The wicked waters raged into

The rapidly-darkening gloom,

While storm clouds savagely

Circled the mountain

And lightning,

Falling like jagged spears,

Lit up the malevolent sky.

Then Thaliela, with her bloodshot

Green eyes feeling like

They were going to explosively

Burst like globular bubbles,

Screamed in terror as she

Plunged over the edge of the

Cliff and tumbled into the

Open jaws of the abyss,

But her chilling shriek was

Silenced as she gradually disappeared

Into the fiery lake below.

 

Act IV

It was precisely one year

After the mysterious

Disappearance of Thaliela,

And so, now it was

Rosinella’s turn to enter

The river since she had

Come of age and was

Sixteen years old.

Although she had no

Idea of what had become

Of her sister Thaliela,

She remembered clearly

The words of Petrio;

So she entered a white boat

On the river with a degree of

Fear and trepidation,

Wondering what would

Happen to her next;

She immediately noticed

That she was beginning

To drift slowly downstream,

So she took up the paddle

And began to row,

Steering the little boat

In the opposite direction;

She did so patiently,

With her beautiful arms

Pulling long, slow, elegant

Strokes through the water;

And so Rosinella rowed

For hour after laborious hour,

And although she was tired,

For some inexplicable reason

She actually felt that

She was getting stronger;

Rosinella was so focused

On Petrio’s prophecy

That she didn’t notice

That the terrain had

Totally transformed;

The shining sun was soaked up

By the sugar-white beaches that

Now lined both sides of the river;

A balmy breeze caressed the

Surface of the water,

And even the water had changed

Into a cloudy pearl color,

Seeming to breathe in

The sunlight and absorb it;

Rosinella noticed none of

These things but continued

Pressing on towards her goal

Like a determined athlete.

When the sun set and night fell,

She finally paused to rest;

Reclining in the boat, she

Looked up into the starry sky;

Clusters of stars brightened and

Conquered the black of night,

Then, one by one,

Several moons of various

Colors and sizes rose

Above the horizon --

But the most beautiful

Of them was surrounded by

An exquisitely gold ring.

Rosinella allowed all of this

To soak deeply into

The depths of her soul,

And the next morning,

She awakened from

Her restful slumber

With renewed strength,

So she untethered the rope

That had prevented her from

Floating downstream,

And continued on her journey.

After a short while,

Her surroundings were

Transforming yet again --

She observed it all

With wonder and delight.

 

Act V

The sandy beach was

Gradually tapering off,

And it was replaced by

Rich, verdant lawns

Along the banks of the river;

Then she saw the summit

Of the mountain and

Noticed that it was crowned

By a resplendent garden.

This garden was ringed

By a crown of rose bushes,

And flowing from the center

Of the garden was a stunning

Waterfall that was translucent,

And its color was aquamarine pearl;

Behind the waterfall there was a

Wall of gold that was trimmed

With silver, and decorated with

Colorful gemstones of every hue,

sparkling brilliantly through

The crystalline waters of the

breathtaking waterfall.

So Rosinella paddled gently

Until she reached a small

Pier at the base, and there

She stepped out of her boat;

When she did so, she suddenly

Became aware that she now

Wore a gown that was

Dazzlingly white, and

It was embroidered with

The very same gems that

She saw behind the waterfall.

Rosinella began to ascend a

Spiral staircase of gold that

Was trimmed with silver,

And the handrails were adorned

With fine little diamonds that

Sparkled happily in the sun;

She heard a soothing greeting

And eagerly looked up.

She saw a handsome,

Dark-haired young man

By the name of Paolesco,

Who was also dressed in white,

And she greeted him with

A sweet smile and twinkling eyes.

Rosinella slowly walked

Up the staircase to the

Glorious garden above,

And it all seemed like

A lovely dream to her;

When she stood before him

Face to face,

He knelt down and

Slipped the finest of rings

On her innocent finger;

Then it was her turn to

Kneel before him, and

He gently placed a stunning

Diadem upon her head;

With that, the wind danced

Between the two of them,

Rushing through the garden

With great jubilation.

It was worth the wait for Rosinella --

Her happiness knew no bounds

As she prepared to fulfill her

Destiny in a grand new life.

INFERNO ISLAND /  by Joe Castorino

A Sequel to “The Lady of Stellamare” 

Overture

“This is the prophecy of

  The island of spice:

Beware of the wicked wench

  Who seeks to entice.”

 

Act I

(The scene opens on Inferno Island. Malvanero has arrived a day after Paolesco, and has just awakened from an exhaustive sleep. He is alone, chiding himself.)

Idiot!

 

I waited too long;

I simply waited too long!

 

I should’ve followed

my passions

when they were hot,

acting more quickly,

and more boldly.

 

I should’ve followed

my first raw instinct.

 

I’ll have revenge

on Paolesco,

I’ll have revenge

on Florian,

I’ll have revenge

on the whole pack of them!

 

This stinking, wretched isle

must be Inferno Island,

though it’s far from being

the supposed paradise

that I heard it was.

 

The terrain is dark and desolate,

twisted and torn,

savagely split apart unlike

any island I’ve ever seen,

with a forlorn fog

encircling this murdered mountain

like a shattered halo.

 

I remember seeing this island

from Mai Tornar,

with the cratered eye of

its volcano glowing red,

and a ring of fire

marking the perimeter

of the island.

 

But how bizarre

this isle really is --

to be quite honest,

this peculiar place

would make

most people shudder

with fear.

 

Black as night,

the raging storm

still swirls above me

but is strangely mute,

with no thunder at all.

 

The volcano now appears dead

and the beach surrounding

the isle shows no signs

at all of fire, and is as silent

and lifeless as the grave.

 

The lightning is constant

with its pale, deathly light,

creating an eerie atmosphere

in this land of darkness.

 

If I didn’t believe in

such rubbish,

I would say this island

almost looked haunted.

 

Act II

After Paolesco escaped with the Lady,

  The Dark One’s anger began to flare,

The pretty island’s face painfully writhed,

  As it exhaled a sickly stench into the air;

The false paradise powerfully quaked and its

  malevolent skin became heavily scarred,

It transformed into a dark, wicked wasteland,

  Whose grisly visage was blackly charred.

 

Then, Malvanero groggily awoke

  On its cadaverous black-sand beach,

Dagger-like lightning bolts lit his path,

  And shelter he was hoping to reach;   

The vomited lava flow had hardened,

  But it was still warm under his feet,

He was all alone in this ghastly place,

  So his heart was drumming a beat.

 

In the gloom, he saw the mouth of a cave

  And it was bursting with fiery light,

Standing in the midst of murky black mud,

  He began to hear shrieks of utter delight;

He silently and stealthily peeked inside,

  Not very sure of what he would see,

Dozens and dozens of merry maidens

  Danced convulsively with reckless glee.

 

Looking inside, there was an immense cavern,

  With flames seductively bright,

Lava cascaded smoothly down the walls,

  Like a bubbling curtain of red light;

Spear-like stalactites of ice jutted out,

  In the colors of a dazzling rainbow,

And everything which Malvanero observed

 Was bathed in the most enchanting glow.

 

The large chamber had a circular base,

  And the lava flowed into a moat,

Transporting passengers back and forth

  Was a grand and luxurious boat;

This moat ringed around a huge tropical forest,

  Its trees loaded with the juiciest fruit,

And the song of the siren-like girls

  Sweetened the sensual strings of a lute.

 

Malvanero breathed in the scent of spices

  And was captivated by its lovely perfume,

But then he noticed a flaming black altar

  Was located in the dead center of the room;

Dozens of magic maidens erotically danced,

  Filled with electric ecstasy around the altar,

They spasmodically writhed in wild delight

  Until their girlish strength began to falter.

 

There was not a single man to be seen,

  It was a world of the most beautiful girls,

Their colorful dresses were short and tight,

  And they all had long hair and curls;

Suddenly, one of the maidens leaped up --

  She was playful and seemed ready for fun,

Nerina screamed with joy, “Look up, girls!

  That handsome man must be The One!”

 

Act III  

(Thaliela, the Queen of the Magic Maidens, is alone in her throne room, a private subterranean chamber on Inferno Island. Speaking to her master, The Dark One, she tries to convince him that all will be well.)

O Dark One!

 

So far your plan

has worked

like a charm,

and your control of

the Sea of Shadows

has brought us

our victim,

Malvanero --

so far

he has suspected

nothing.

 

When he appeared

at the mouth of

the cavern,

Nerina caught sight of him

with her alert eyes

and drew our attention

towards him.

    

The music ceased,

and I invited him

to descend the steps,

down, down, down,

until he reached the

cavern floor.

 

I crossed the lava moat

with the royal barge,

accompanied by Nerina

and a few other maidens.

 

He bowed his head

and introduced himself,

and, as the queen, I regally

and elegantly did the same.

 

He was taken aback

by my stunning beauty

and my enticing charm.

 

There is no question

that I am the

most radiant and the

most voluptuous

among us,

and Malvanero could not

keep his eyes off of me.

 

So I opportunely

took one of his

arms and

wrapped it,

snugly and

sensually,

around my slender

and shapely waist.

 

But I did so

in such a way that

my warm, perfumed

hair was brushing against his

flushed cheek.

 

Then I surprised him --

so insidious that I am --

and suddenly I held him

tight in my invincible arms and

kissed him,

long and hard,

with my spiced lips,

and we clung together,

with his heart pounding violently

with the strongest palpitations

against my curvaceous and

seductive body.

 

I captivated him

with my goddess-like eyes --

my green eye gazed intently

into his defenseless

brown eyes,

while I began to

subtly and stealthily

secrete red lava into my

bewitching black eye.

 

Ever so slowly,

and ever so gradually,

the hot red lava

hypnotically oozed and

blended together and

my left eye became a

magnetic, mesmerizing

tornado of swiftly swirling

black and red.

 

Malvanero appeared

quite smitten,

but after the incident

involving Paolesco,

I was not going to

leave anything to

chance this time.

 

So with full

flirtatious force,

I playfully and

smilingly led him

across the moat

and through the fateful forest

of tropical fruit trees,

slowly sauntering towards the

black altar of pleasure.

 

In the meantime,

the other magic maidens

giggled and whispered

among each other,

with great anticipation.

                                                

Then the two of us

sat down under the trees,

while the rest of the

magic maidens watched

me spin a tangled web

for my victim.

 

They observed from a

safe enough distance

in order to give us

sufficient privacy --

to avoid interference

of any kind --

so through the bushes

and around trees

they all sat there,

dumbfounded,

at my ability to

coquettishly tease Malvanero

and lasciviously lure him

into the jaws of my trap.

 

His heart,

like a budding flower

in winter,

opened too soon,

too rashly --

as is Malvanero’s nature --

and the frost of

foul play

began to freeze

his sense of reason.

 

He squinted his eyes,

scrunched his mouth

into a wry smile,

and said,

“I intercepted a

letter from

a man I despise,

and in it he spoke

of this island

as if he were a

stupid, superstitious fool --

one who is spooked

and afraid of

his own shadow.”

 

I winced,

for I knew he referred to Paolesco,

but immediately

I regained my composure

before he could notice

anything at all --

he was busy looking

around and marveling

at his tantalizing surroundings.

 

Then I saw

my chance and

wasted no time

in strategically

making my move.

 

I quickly replied,

“As you can clearly see,

Inferno Island is a

paradise of pleasures,

so just relax

and let go --

the only thing

that matters here is

to feel!”

 

Malvanero smiled

a very broad smile,

and, as he chuckled,

his glance danced

back and forth,

from my swirling eye

to my stationary one.

 

On the soft grass,

I slowly reclined into

an arousing supine position

and smiled back at him.

 

I looked intently

into his eyes again

and the swirling eye

spun around even faster

with excitement.

 

Then I asked him,

“Would you like

some fruit?”

 

All of the other

magic maidens

held their breath and

awaited his response.

 

His face fell,

as if he had suddenly

pricked himself with

a sharp blade --

he was overcome by

a profound fear —

a fear which he tried to hide —

and he stumbled

terribly over his

words as he

tried to come up with

an excuse.

 

But with an alluring,

irresistible voice

I persisted

and asked him,

“Surely you’re not afraid --

are you, Malvanero?

 

“Why, my love,

it’s impossible

that a handsome, brave,

and passionate man

like you

would be afraid

of anything!”

 

With that,

my wanton body

slithered stealthily over

that of his own,

and then he found his face

immersed in the

serpentine ringlets

of my clustered curls

and the wild, wicked whirl

of my cascading dark hair.

 

My perfumed breath

was indescribably delicious,

and his self-control

was noticeably weakening --

he appeared emotionally chained

by the poison pride that

strongly surged within him.

 

I looked at the

multicolored fruit

in the tree above us,

then I stood up and

chose one that dangled,

as if hanging by a noose,

over his head.

 

The one that I picked was

of a bright, fiery red,

very round, and

very, very ripe.

 

I placed it into his hands,

its sticky juice bleeding

in profusion over

his quivering fingers.

 

Again, there was a hush

among the maidens,

and the whole island

seemed to be still.

 

Breathing faster,

he looked at the fruit

in his hands --

I suspect that Paolesco

must have said something

about the danger of

the fruit on this island,

because he turned very pale.

 

He was frozen

with uncertainty

for a moment,

but he was no match

for me.                                            

 

I persuasively urged him,

“Here… take this, Malvanero...

taste and enjoy

its remarkable flavor,

for you must be hungry.”

 

Then I drew near

to his left ear and

whispered,

even more softly,

“This luscious fruit

will help you relax,

and it will make our

time together

even more memorable.”

 

Suddenly,

he made his

decision.

 

He bit into the fruit,

with reckless abandon,

and I could see that

its fragrant flesh was

strikingly flavorful.

 

Then he bit into it

again,

and again,

and yet again,

as if eating it faster

might somehow

protect him.

 

He was giddy with delight

and soon said that it felt as if

his body had been placed in a

warm pool of melting sugar,

and he said he was experiencing

very intense pleasure. 

 

I stood up and then

pulled him to his feet,

but he appeared

just a bit dizzy --

then, as I looked into his eyes,

I could see the potion

already taking effect:

his left eye was beginning

to swirl black and red,

and his right eye was

turning sea green.

 

The maidens watched with a

feeling of euphoria,

because they knew now

what was coming.

 

I led him towards

the flaming black altar

and said,

“My dear Malvanero,

now all your dreams

will come true --

let us go together

into the fires of pleasure

on the black altar,

and there we will both

experience pleasures

more intense than

you could ever have believed

in your wildest imagination!”

 

He stepped up onto

the black altar of pleasure

and then reclined on it --

as the flashing flames

surrounded his body

and enveloped it,

he was overcome by

an ecstasy that completely

overwhelmed him.

 

Act IV

As he rested on the dark black altar,

  Malvanero’s body tingled with restless delight,

Here on the flaming altar of pleasure,

  His ecstasy peaked at an all-time height;

But this dream darkened into a nightmare

  That for him meant certain doom,

It started with the war drums’ thunder --

  Boom baba-boom baba-boom!

 

The altar flames flared exceedingly high,

  Pulsating to the pounding drumbeat,

Pain exploded through poor Malvanero

  With each and every heartbeat;

His bones were blasted by ongoing bursts

  Of scorching, unquenchable fire,

There was no question at all in his mind

  That his situation was really quite dire.

 

He screamed and wailed in utter agony,

  Writhing horribly on the altar of black,

The magic maidens happily looked on,

  Assembling quickly into a large pack;

They screeched with fiendish laughter,

  As if he were an insect in a trap,

Queen Thaliela had been totally victorious,

  And so, they all loudly started to clap.

 

He tried to escape with all his might,

  But he was locked inside of the flames,

He was imprisoned on the black altar,

  Yet for the maidens it was fun and games;

But then something very peculiar occurred,

  And his stomach felt strangely sour,

Malvanero vomited black-and-red blood,

  And this lasted for almost an hour.

 

For minute after minute he suffered,

  Painfully squirming all around,

Then he collapsed from sheer exhaustion,

  Without making a single sound;

The cavern was filled with a vile stench,

  And a foul grey fog filled the air,

Malvanero was nearing his inevitable death,

  But the magic maidens didn’t care.

 

Surrounding the burning black altar,

  There was a ring of fiery spears,

Thaliela grimly grabbed the closest one,

  And then trebled were all his fears;

With her wild left eye spinning madly,

  She raised the spear over her head,

Swinging it down, she skewered his skull,

  And Malvanero would soon be dead.

 

The spear pierced through both of his ears,

  And flaring fire flashed from each eye,

Blood then gushed out of both of his ears,

  and they all knew he was going to die;

Malvanero uttered a terrifying scream

  As he blurted out his bloody breath;

So the maidens moved him under a guillotine

And this would be the last stroke of Death.

But this special guillotine was like no other,

For it wasn’t meant to lop off a head;

Instead it would cleave from head to foot,

So Malvanero filled with horror and dread;

As the rope flew up, the blade sped down,

Slicing his skull and body in right in half;

Then, Thaliela saw a wavelike flood of blood,

And exhaled a malicious, discordant laugh.

 

Act V

(A booming bass voice so shook the cave that even the magic maidens were suddenly terrified. The Dark One’s voice was unmistakable.)

I spit at thee,

Malvanero,

for you are an ignorant fool —

you have paid for your stupidity,

since you are an unworthy citizen

from the land of the hated one --

I spit at your king!

 

But, Thaliela,

now you too will be punished

as Malvnero was,

on the black altar of pleasure,

for your failure in capturing Paolesco,

for your failure in capturing the candle,

for your failure in capturing the scroll —

you miserable wretch,

I am irked to no end that you

allowed him to escape,

so now you too will experience

a nightmarish death.

Nerina, you will now

take over as queen

of the magic maidens —

but, beware! —

for if you should fail me,

you too will taste bloody death!

Fear me, for I will overwhelm you;

Fear me, for I will terrorize you;

Fear me, for I will conquer you,

Fear me, for I hate you,

I Fear!

I Hate!

Epilogue

“If you fail to learn self-control,

Then it will be too late,

You will die a slave of Fear,

And also Eternal Hate.”

THE LADY OF STELLAMARE /  by Joe Castorino

Act I

When Paolesco heard his wife was sick,

  He expected to find her in bed,

But by the time he arrived at their country house,

  She was already tragically dead;

His heart was completely broken,

  For she was a compassionate and loving wife,

So then he journeyed to a distant land,

  Because something was missing in his life.

 

Paolesco’s wife had spoken of a wise old man

  Who lived in the Magic Mountains,

He lived for years in a craggy cave

  Above the enchanted Lake of the Fountains;

It is said this sage knew of a hidden city

  That was paved with precious pearls,

And rumors say that he knew of an isle

  Filled with beautiful fairy-like girls.

 

Hence he decided to set out alone,

  To try and find this most mysterious man,

So the sun soaked Paolesco for several weeks,

  Until his skin became very tan;

When he saw the Magic Mountains,

  They were like stalagmites touching the sky,

The stunning spires were of gold and silver,

  And they towered so very high.

 

The Lake of the Fountains was nearly circular,

  And its sky-blue waters inspired peace,

Around the lake were lovely fountains,

  Whose watery spires would not cease;

Each of the twelve fountains gushed water,

  As much as three hundred feet high,

They were like eruptive geysers of crystal,

  Glimmering as they touched the sky.

 

When he had finally reached the lake,

  It was very scenic to behold,

As the sun rose over the mountains,

  The frolicking fountains glistened with gold;

He rested that day near this delightful lake,

  For he was really beginning to tire,

But at night he looked up towards the summit,

  And he was sure that he saw a fire.

 

The next day he got up very early,

  And climbed the steep and rugged trail,

He was determined that his daring journey

 Would not ever be doomed to fail;

After three long days, he found the cave,

  In a clearing through the trees,

And he found himself wonderfully cooled

  By a mystical and refreshing breeze.

 

The giant sun slowly sank down,

  And it glowed a fiery red,

Then the darkness of night fell abruptly,

  Like a heavy curtain made out of lead;

Paolesco peered around the corner of the cave,

  And saw a man with a very big frown,

The old man had a hood on his head,

  And his coarse cloak was all in brown.

 

This man had a long, ruffled gray beard

  That was visible in the torch’s light,

Being relatively short of stature,

  He was certainly not known for his height;

The old gentleman, named Petrio,

  Was perusing an ancient scroll intently,

Then, completely lost in his thoughts,

  He put it down quite gently.

 

Act II

Paolesco’s First Letter

Greetings, Florian --

As you well know,

I departed in haste

following Rosinella's

tragic and unexpected death,

so now I would like to

update you on all

that has happened

since I left.

 

After a long journey,

just after sunset,

I found the old prophet,

Petrio,

in a cave,

in the Magic Mountains.

 

With a gruff yet gentle voice,

the old man abruptly said,

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

 

I hardly knew what to say

because I was so taken aback;

there is no way that

he could have known I was coming.

 

So I engaged him in conversation,

and I very much welcomed

having someone to talk to

after so many weeks alone.

 

We spent all night

and most of the next day

talking together,

and I learned that

he was very close to Rosinella

when she was a child.

 

I felt so comforted

by his words

that I was almost ready

to return home

to resume my life

without Rosinella

when he suddenly said,

“It is your destiny

to follow her.”

 

Then he calmly added,

“You will see her again, alive,

if you listen to my words.”

 

When I first met Petrio

I honestly thought he was just a

crazy old man,

but the longer I was with him,

the more his words got

inside of me,

and I knew that he spoke

the truth.

 

A fire was burning in my heart,

as it still is now,

as I write to you

from an inn,

here in a little coastal

port town called

Mai Tornar.

 

So getting back to my story,

Petrio picked up

a little candle

that was within arm’s length,

and he gave it to me.

 

He also gave me

a scroll

that was rolled up,

and it looked like

it was made out of vellum.

 

Lastly, he gave me a

stunning, sparkling diamond

that was the size of my fist.

 

He said I needed to

follow his instructions

precisely.

 

Then he gave me a stern

yet kind warning, saying,

“When you cross

to the eastern side

of the Magic Mountains,

you will be severely tested.”

 

He told me to go to

Mai Tornar

and take passage on

the first ship I came upon.

 

Petrio said the tempests

on the Sea of Shadows

are notoriously perilous,

but I should light this candle

only if and when I encounter

the embodiment of evil.

 

As for the scroll

and the diamond,

he said I would learn

in good time how

to use them both.

 

Then he added,

“The Dark One

isn’t interested in

the diamond,

but he will try to steal

the candle and the scroll.

Resist him!”

 

Then he paused,

and looked with intensity

into my eyes and continued,

slowly but with great emphasis,

“You will meet a lady,

the Lady of Stellamare.

This scroll belongs to the King,

so make sure that she gets it,

because she will be

his messenger."

 

I have never before met

someone so resolute,

and pleasantly stubborn,

in fact, almost bordering on

friendly defiance.

 

But it was clear to me

that this old sage was indeed wise,

and there was something

utterly trustworthy

in his eyes.

 

I was both physically

and emotionally

exhausted,

and I slept for what

felt like days.

 

But I awoke refreshed,

and invigorated.

 

Petrio then gave me

his last words of warning

before I left.

 

With eyes alert like

a great warrior’s,

he told me to avoid

Inferno Island.

 

He said,

“If in spite of all

your efforts,

you find yourself

on this enchanted isle,

do not touch its fruit!

If you even so much as taste it,

you will certainly die.”

 

Petrio concluded by saying

that as soon as I would get

on the other side

of these mountains,

I would be crossing the frontier

into the territory of

the Dark One.

 

His last words to me were,

“Never underestimate his powers!”

 

Act III

The next day Paolesco got up very early,

  And heartily shook the prophet’s hand,

Then he set out towards the frontier,

  Ready for new adventures in that land;

The trail led him near the summit of the mountain

  Between the two highest peaks,

He noticed the weather quickly changed,

  And wind like icy daggers pierced his cheeks.

 

Billowy black storm clouds filled the eastern sky

  And swirled in a threatening cyclonic motion,

As if they had been quickly conjured up,

  By a wicked and malicious potion;

Daytime in this cursed and dreary land

  Was as dark as very early dawn,

There was strangled sunlight all around,

  And every vestige of hope seemed gone.

 

Underneath the dull, dismal sky,

  The Sea of Shadows was a gloomy green,

And under the squinty eye of the storm,

  Inferno Island could be seen;

A ring of fire blazed extremely bright,

  And it surrounded the mysterious isle,

A volcanic mountain was in its center,

  And its diameter was about a mile.

 

Its crater was filled with molten lava,

  And was a red eye glaring over the sea,

The Dark One’s presence was strong there,

  And no prisoner could ever be free;

Paolesco saw all these various things

  From the Magic Mountains way up high,

Petrio’s words were quite prophetic,

  He spoke the truth and not a lie.

 

Paolesco looked at the base of the mountain,

  And saw a very small town,

The wild waves attacked with open jaws,

  As if they were trying to gulp it down;

It was located on a bleak little peninsula,

  Over the south end of the bay,

No light shined on treacherous Mai Tornar

  On this very stormy winter day.

 

The wind was very strong and gusty,

  As Paolesco descended to Mai Tornar,

The weatherbeaten buildings were weary,

  And they were all the color of tar;

This dirty town had quite a vile stench,

  Of burnt meat and the cheapest ale,

And then he saw dingy drunkards brawling,

  Behind the bars of the jail.

 

When he walked along the bluff near town,

  He looked for a ship to take him away,

But poor Paolesco saw no sign of a vessel,

  And nothing at all stirred in the bay;

As he walked on the uneven cobblestones,

  He found an inn along the road,

But as he came through the front door,

  A man grimaced like a menacing toad.

 

This short, stout man was named Malvanero,

  And he glowered with hellish hate,

When Paolesco had been a captain at sea,

  Malvanero was assigned his first mate;

It turned out Malvanero was a petty thief,

  And between them a dispute had arisen,

But in the end Paolesco got what he wanted,

  And Malvanero got thrown into prison.

 

So Malvanero quickly hid in another room,

  And spied on him through the shutters,

He saw Paolesco speak to a timid sailor

  Who continually stammers and stutters;

The little chap told him that sailing is hard

  Because of the inclement weather,

The last ship got tossed around by the waves,

  As if it were just the smallest feather.

 

The fine ship was called the Intrepid,

  And its wreckage was on the shore,

He said that the damages were heavy,

  And repairing it would be a chore;

So Paolesco quietly sat down at a table,

  And he pensively ate some grub,

He was beginning to wonder if Petrio

  Might have committed a bit of a flub.

 

Many weeks passed and no sign of a ship,

  As persistent Paolesco patiently waited,

Meanwhile Malvanero continued to plot,

  For revenge on the man he so hated;

The town’s citizens were terribly lazy,

  And few of them had steady work,

They were thieves with sneaky eyes,

  Who in foggy lanes did loiter and lurk.

 

But one morning Paolesco eagerly awoke,

  For an insight flashed into his mind,

The Intrepid was the first ship he saw,

  So that was the one he had to find!

He formed a plan to repair the ship,

  But he knew he couldn’t do it alone,

So Paolesco created a financial incentive,

  And he sold his precious stone.

 

To the many people who wanted work,

  He gave them a respectable job,

Since Paolesco gave them dignity as workers,

  They no longer needed to rob;

In wages he gave every single coin away,

  As he strove to treat workers fair,

In gratitude the citizens made a choice,

  And they decided to elect him mayor.

 

Although the project took three long years,

  The Intrepid was as good as new,

As the captain of this resurrected ship,

  He chose a brave and trusted crew;

The weather was sunny in this perilous land

  Perhaps only ten days each year,

So quickly the crew packed their supplies,

  When the sky suddenly became clear.

 

Captain Paolesco saw his opportunity,

  So they cast off while the weather was good,

He wanted to travel a long way fast,

  And the crew nodded and understood;

The captain decided to set a firm course,

  Thus he chose the ship’s last destination,

Their voyage was to the Floating Icefields,

  So each one manned his station.

 

But unbeknownst to Captain Paolesco,

  Malvanero had sneaked aboard,

Nothing would make Malvanero happier

  Than to see Paolesco bloodied and gored;

Now the first three days were uneventful,

  Which made the crew quite glad,

But after they saw a solar eclipse,

  The whole world seemed to go mad.

 

Suddenly there was an eerie wild wind,

  And the waters frightfully churned,

Bulging black clouds blitzed the sky,

  As the weather had radically turned;

The Sea of Shadows was darker than ever,

  But then there was another worry,

The Floating Icefields were in the vicinity,

  So the crew scrambled in a hurry.

 

Lightning struck like daggers in the darkness,

  Wounding the innocent air,

Thunder furiously raged and roared,

  As the storm gave the crew a scare;

Though no rain yet fell from the clouds,

  The wicked waves reached toward the sky,

The Intrepid bobbed around in the cauldron,

  And everyone thought he’d die.

 

Malvanero was waiting in the shadows,

  Like a poisonous human weed,

He nervously stroked his stubbly beard,

  As he planned the dirty deed;

Malvanero suddenly leaped onto the deck,

  And grabbed his bloody blade,

He rashly raised his knife high in the air,

  As the revenge card was about to be played.

 

Paolesco was very busy steering the ship,

  When Malvanero stabbed with his dagger,

But lightning struck the mizzenmast,

  And the explosion made them both stagger;

The sharp blade cut Paolesco’s left arm,

  So his sleeve became rather bloody,

Then they violently brawled on the deck,

  Until their faces turned quite ruddy.

 

Paolesco punched Malvanero in the mouth,

  Bloodying his beard and lip,

Then Malvanero tripped, and fell over sideways,

  And he toppled right off the ship;

The hungry flames caused by the lightning

  Quickly ate the ship’s old wood,

The crew tried dousing the flashing flames,

  Or they’d all be gone for good.

 

The crew forgot about the ship’s helm,

  For they were busy fighting the fire,

Then the Intrepid rammed into a glacier,

  And the situation became more dire;

The vessel had a huge gash in the bow,

  And swallowed a great deal of water,

The dying Intrepid shivered and shuddered,

  Right before it started to totter.

 

Like a corpse, the Intrepid keeled over,

  Like a harpooned whale in the sea,

The crew fell out like lumps of sugar,

  And were stirred into the murky green tea;

Paolesco latched onto the captain's skiff,

  And he rowed with all his might,

His goal was to get away from the ship,

  For he refused to give up the fight.

 

Act IV

Paolesco’s Second Letter

Faithful Florian,

let me tell you about

my latest adventures.

 

I captained a ship

called the Intrepid

from the port of

Mai Tornar,

but,

due to a sudden storm,

our vessel was

struck with lightning

and caught fire.

 

The flames

that engulfed our ship

reminded me

of that eventful night

when you saved

Rosinella’s life,

courageously

charging into the barn

as the wooden beams

holding up the roof

started to collapse.

 

But back to

my story.

 

Everyone was so focused

on the fire

that no one

was at the helm!

 

Just as the lightning flashed,

a man attacked me,

but with a dark storm

brewing around us,

I couldn’t

see him clearly.

 

At first I thought

I saw a ghost,

for he looked like

that old villain

Malvanero.

 

Later,

I learned that

it was no ghost,

but was truly

Malvanero himself.

 

I think he may have died

like everyone else aboard,

for I appear to be

the only survivor.

 

The ship hit a glacier

and the whole crew --

including myself --

fell into the sea,

but this was just

the beginning,

dear friend.

 

Then it began

to rain.

 

Luckily for me, when I turned  

around, I saw my skiff floating

aimlessly in the water, so I swam

towards it with all my might.

 

I pulled myself in,

and I looked under the

old blanket that covered the

top and was happy to see that

my hidden chest was still there.

 

Then I looked quickly inside

to make sure my things

were all right,

and I saw that the

candle and scroll

were still there

and were still dry,

so I latched the chest shut

to protect them

from the rain.

 

In the distance

to the south

I could see

the flames of

intimidating

Inferno Island.

 

I was carried

on the waves

directly towards

that island,

and I shuddered

momentarily

with horror

as I remembered

Petrio’s words.

 

The closer

I got to the island,

the stronger was

the wind --

which almost seemed

to be purposely

steering me there.

 

The closer

I got to the island,

the stronger was

the rain that fell,

until I was about

a mile away

from the island,

and the terrifying tempest

twisted about me

as if in wicked glee,

with lightning

uncontrollably exploding

all over the sky

as if it were

going mad.

 

The thunder

became deafening,

and it sounded like

five hundred legions

of warships

were continuously

firing their

cannons at me.

 

It was as if some

unseen evil force

had caught me

like a wriggling fish

and were reeling me in

towards the isle.

 

The fiery red eye

of the volcano

seemed to stare

at me

as if it were

obsessed

with me

somehow.

 

So I approached the isle,

and I could vividly see

the black-sand beach

completely encircling it,

engulfed in

perpetual flames

that seemed to

welcome me with their

contorted and convulsive

dance of delight.

 

Only when the waves

crashed onto the shore

did the flames

briefly die out,

but other than that

the fire formed

a formidable fence

around the island,

as if it were a prison

of some sort.

 

I was on a collision course

with the coastline,

and I realized that

I was heading

right at those

furious flames.

 

A large new wave was forming

underneath me,

so at the last moment

I leapt off my

battered skiff

and dove under

the surface of

the water.

 

I thrashed about

under the wave,

before it burst apart

on the beach.

 

I found myself

facing downward,

on the wet and toasty

black sand.

 

I quickly looked around

and saw that the flames

had been momentarily

murdered by the wave,

but after only

a few seconds,

I saw the flames already

returning to life again.

 

So I snatched my

chest and

clumsily crawled

and scrambled

off the beach

like a crab,

then I turned around

and sat up against a palm tree.

 

Florian,

please pay attention

to what you

will now read,

for I’m certain

that it will utterly

amaze you,

much as it

amazed me.

 

When I saw that the

wave had subsided,

and the ring of fire

had fully fenced me in,

I realized that

I was now a prisoner

inside this

fiery fortress.

 

But, oh, what an island!

 

As I turned and

looked about me,

I almost thought

that I was in paradise --

so different it was

from its forbidding exterior!

 

First of all,

I felt like I was in a

protective bubble.

 

Out on the sea it was

cold and windy and stormy,

but on the island

it was tranquil.

 

I could still see the

rapid-fire lightning flashes,

but they were silent,

and there was no thunder --

a very peculiar sensation it was!

 

I looked up,

and I could see

that it was night.

 

The sinister squinty eye

of the storm was

directly overhead,

and it must have been

about the same size

as the island itself.

 

It was a dark sky,

but I could see stars.

 

I could also see the clouds

of the cyclonic tempest

whirling like a giant

wheel overhead.

 

Thus, it was raining over

the Sea of Shadows,

but not over the island.

 

The temperature

was warm,

delightfully warm.

 

As I looked away from

the coastline,

and towards the

island itself,

I saw before me

what seemed to be a

tropical paradise.

 

I could see lush green

trees and shrubs

that had a unique

beauty to them,

and they wafted

to and fro

in the light breeze.

 

Here and there I saw

peaceful volcanic rivers

branching out from

the eye of the

volcano.

 

The lava sleepily

crept down the mountain

and through the forest

like harmless serpents,

before they emptied out

into the sea.

 

They gave off just enough

light to create a

wonderfully romantic,

yet eerie,

glow.

 

It was the most

enchanting place

I had ever seen.

 

Yet,

at the same time,

it was also the most

bewitching.

 

Then,

to top it all off,

the aroma of

exotic spices

filled the air.

 

It was hard not to

imagine

just how delicious

the fruit on this isle

must taste.

 

And then I noticed

that there were many

tropical fruit trees,

with large leaves

that were dark green,

and interspersed among them,

in great abundance,

was a fabulous flurry

of fantastical fruits.

 

They were round in shape,

about the size

of an orange,

but they were every color

of the rainbow,

multicolored,

even on the same tree,

ripe,

and ready to eat.

 

I began to wonder

if all this fruit

was dangerous,

or if Petrio referred only

to a certain color of fruit.

 

As I was wandering

around in this paradise,

and musing upon these things,

I suddenly heard

a woman’s melodious voice

speak my name:

“Paolesco.”

 

I turned around abruptly

as if I had been

ambushed

and shot in the back.

 

When I saw this woman,

somehow I felt alarmed

by the sight of her.

 

She was strikingly

beautiful.

 

How can I describe

her to you,

Florian?

 

She was leaning,

in a teasing position,

against one of the

blooming fruit trees.

 

Her long, wild whirl

of thick black hair

sensually swirled down

over her shoulders

and culminated in

a comely cluster of

sweet serpentine ringlets

that dangled

to the middle of her back.

 

She wore an alluring gown

that was blood red,

and it draped over

and clung to her

voluptuous goddess-like body

like smooth

liquid lava.

 

With her head angled slightly,

she looked askance at me

with a lustful left eye

that was as

black as midnight.

 

Then she slowly and

seductively sauntered

towards me,

walking on the island sand

with her bare feet.

 

Now that she

faced me head-on,

I noticed that her

right eye was a

different color

than her left one --

it was a

sultry sea green.

 

Those eyes of hers were

mesmerizing.

 

As she neared me,

the right corner of her lip

curled upwards playfully

in a suggestive smile

of conquest --

she was like a warrior

going in for the kill,

knowing her opponent

was no match for her.

 

Then she fired

her secret weapon,

a stunning, bright,

captivating smile.

 

When she saw

that I was

dumbstruck,

she continued,

confidently,

in her melodic voice,

“My name is Thaliela,

and I am the queen of

the magic maidens.”

 

It was then that

I realized

that we were not

alone.

 

As I looked through the

green foliage,

I saw a myriad of

black and green eyes

peering at me

with curious delight.

 

Although I couldn’t

see them well,

I knew they were all

women,

because of the

musical sound of

their delightful giggling.

 

Thaliela drew unusually close to me,

and then whispered.

 

She said,

“I know you have

a scroll and a candle

with you,

and I’ve been waiting

for you to bring them to me.

 

“You see,

I am

the Lady of Stellamare.”

 

When she spoke that name,

I felt a sense of confusion

deep inside of me.

 

I felt a sense of excitement,

but also of danger,

on this strange isle.

 

Then she made a proposal:

“If you give me your

candle and scroll,

I will make all your

dreams come true --

even my lips are flavored

with spices!”

 

I could feel the warmth

of her breath

upon my face,

and I drank in its aroma,

which was that of

exotic spices.

 

Her eyes were

wide open and alive

as she said this,

and she stroked her

sleek, silky fingers

across my cheeks

and onto my lips.

 

I was,

quite honestly,

breathless

and perplexed.

 

Thaliela had a magnetic

power over men

that was hypnotic,

and almost

irresistible.

 

She added,

“While you retrieve

your little treasures

for me,

I will prepare

unspeakable delights

and pleasures

for you.”

 

Next, she reached up

and plucked a

ripe red fruit

off of a nearby tree,

and its juice dripped like

bright blood

on her fingers.

 

She offered it to me.

 

I hesitated,

ever so slightly,

then took it in my hands,

which were moistened

by its sweet-smelling,

sticky juice.

 

I do believe

my hands were

quivering slightly,

and I immediately remembered

Petrio’s words of warning.

 

Thaliela persuasively urged me,

“Go on, Paolesco...

taste it and enjoy.”

 

Then she drew even nearer

so that the tip of her

cool delicate nose

touched my

warm ear.

 

And she whispered,

even more softly,

“This luscious fruit

will help you relax,

and it will make our

time together

even more memorable.”

 

Then in a coy manner,

she stepped back slightly,

she slowly licked her lips,

she winked her black eye at me,

and briskly walked off

towards the interior of the island,

her hair bouncing in waves

as she strutted like a peacock

alongside the bank

of one of the branches of the

lazy lava river.

 

Springing out of their

hiding places,

the other magic maidens,

like frolicking fairies,

chased after her

in a sea of giggles.

 

Act V

Paolesco was troubled by Thaliela’s words,

  And he was feeling very confused,

Was this charming queen trustworthy,

  Or perhaps was he being used?

Petrio advised him to avoid the fruit,

  Yet Thaliela said it would be delicious,

He was enticed by Inferno Island,

  Though Petrio had said it was pernicious.

 

But what ultimately caught his attention,

  Was what he felt deep down inside,

One person was characterized by selflessness,

  The other by puffed-up pride;

Thaliela’s presence was very exciting,

  But a nagging agitation wouldn’t cease,

Meanwhile, Petrio’s words of wisdom

  Filled Paolesco’s heart with harmonic peace.

 

Then he remembered Petrio’s warning:

  That he would face a very severe test,

He wondered about Thaliela’s intentions,

  For she seemed to be very obsessed;

The candle and the scroll she wanted --

  This much was crystal clear,

She was ready to pounce like a wildcat

  If ever he would let her near.

 

Instead of doing what his passions craved,

  He decided to do what he ought,

So he dropped the fruit, and chose sides for the

  Battle that was finally ready to be fought;

He ran over and found Petrio’s candle,

  Which had a signet seal on each side,

One was a cameo of the respected King,

  The other was of a beautiful bride.

 

Thaliela was frozen with incredulity,

  As she watched Paolesco light the candle,

She spied him through her looking glass,

  And it was more than she could handle;

At first the candle’s flame barely flickered,

  And it was really very, very small,

But ever so gradually it grew much larger,

  Until it became exceedingly tall.

 

It slowly hardened into a sword’s blade,

  Of a bold bright dazzling gold,

Paolesco fell to his knees in sheer wonder,

  And was awed if the truth be told;

The golden sword gleamed with brilliance,

  Almost like the noonday sun,

The Dark One was filled with fanatical

  Fear, for he was about to be undone.

 

Then gradually a luminous orb appeared,

  Over the glowing magical sword,

And rays of light from within its center

  With dazzling brightness poured;

The fuzzy form of a woman appeared,

  In the midst of this mystical vision,

Then there was a blinding burst of light,

  As if two stars had had a collision.

 

Paolesco blinked his eyes, as the brightness

  Very gradually began to subside,

And standing before him was a beautiful

  Woman who was regal and dignified;

Her aquamarine eyes were fully alive,

  And their goodness melted his heart,

Her smiling red lips were full of joy,

  Piercing his being like a delightful dart.

 

Her long, light-brown hair, cascading over

  Her shoulders, was like a lovely waterfall,

And she wore a very beautiful white gown,

  As if she were attending an elegant ball;

This woman had a slender physique,

  And was brimming with poise and grace,

But what struck him most was the feeling he had

  When he looked at her compassionate face.

 

“Do you know who I am?" she asked,

  Almost as if she were feeling sorry,

Paolesco replied, “Without a doubt, you are

  The honorable Lady of Stellamare”;

To affirm that he had spoken the truth,

  She nodded with a very sweet smile,

Never before had Paolesco met someone

  So completely free from guile.

 

As Paolesco looked at this Lady’s face,

  It most certainly made him start,

He noticed it was the same one carved

  Into the candle with such art;

The Lady said, “Let’s try to move quickly,

  For the Dark One is on the alert.”

She knew that danger was approaching,

  And she didn’t want Paolesco to get hurt.

 

So she gripped the sword in her hands,

  And took her stance in the ready position,

Her face showed no signs of fear,

  For she was ready to complete her mission;

Then Thaliela appeared with her maidens,

  Which assembled in a very large pack,

They totally encircled the two of them,

  And awaited the signal to attack.

 

Thaliela had become very wild-eyed,

  With her left eye swirling black and red,

It looked like a hypnotic hurricane,

  And Paolesco was filled with dread;

This same black-and-red hurricane

  Spun also in the maidens’ left eyes,

Paolesco had no doubt whatsoever

  That Thaliela spoke nothing but lies.

 

Then Thaliela, like a threatened animal,

  Madly screeched a beastly battle cry,

And the volcano exploded with a deafening

  Blast, so that the lava was shooting high;

At that instant Thaliela’s hair transformed

  Into fanatical fiery flames,

He realized this island was insanely evil,

  As indeed the prophet Petrio claims.

 

Meanwhile, molten lava rained down

  Like meteors from the maniacal mountain,

There’s no doubt that this vicious volcano

  Was now a convulsive, fulminating fountain;

The magic maidens were seething with

  Hatred, and forward they frantically rushed,

It truly appeared as if Paolesco’s great

  Hopes were finally about to be crushed.

 

The Lady horizontally swung the sword,

  Its golden blade flashing bright,

And shooting out from it were pearl-like

  Orbs of sizzling, crackling light;

With strength and swiftness, she spun

  Completely around, athletic and alert,

Thaliela knew that danger was near,

  So she very abruptly hit the dirt.

 

As the magic maidens rushed forward,

  They were speared by the hot beads of light,

Then, black and red, their blood gushed

  Forth before having the chance to take flight;

The Lady saw her opportunity, so she

  Quickly took Paolesco by the hand,

Then speedily they ran side-by-side

  Toward the beach’s burning black sand.

 

Like multitudinous meteorites, molten

  Rocks crashed and exploded all around,

They revengefully ripped open the island’s

  Flesh and terrifyingly tore into the ground;

For Thaliela things were not proceeding

  According to her insidious plan,

So faster than the speed of darkness,

  With flaming hair she obsessively ran.

 

She tried to overtake the escapers, for

  She wanted possession of the candle,

And the painful thought of it eluding her

  Was more than she could handle;

As the Dark One’s favorite servant,

  She was given special magical powers,

But now that she’s losing the battle,

  Her mercurial disposition really sours.

 

When the Lady reached the beachfront,

  She carefully removed each sandal,

Then she waved her hand over the sword,

  And it transformed back into a candle;

With patience and poise the Lady lit it again,

  So Paolesco could reach his ultimate goal,

Then she sweetly smiled at him, asking

  Him to loudly read the magical scroll.

 

It was in a melodic yet mystical tongue,

  Full of guttural sounds and trills,

As the evil Thaliela rapidly approached,

  The sound of it gave her the chills;

White smoke gradually materialized,

  And rose up from the ancient scroll,

It became a cloud most dazzlingly bright,

  Though the night was as dark as coal.

 

The delightful fragrance of this cloud of

  Incense made Thaliela cough and wheeze,

Then the little cloud gradually disappeared,

  In a magical, mystical breeze;

Thaliela looked around quite puzzled,

  For her enemies had taken flight,

Through the King’s unconquerable power,

  They had victoriously vanished from sight.

 

Thaliela and her maidens wailed in pain

  And their hatred grew and grew,

And at that instant the volcano burst

  Open and was totally torn in two;

The vanquished volcano was wounded,

  And its bloody red guts poured out,

Truly the Dark One had been outwitted,

  Of this there was certainly no doubt.

 

When Paolesco awoke, he was blinded,

  By a dazzlingly brilliant light,

He desperately needed some assistance,

  In order to regain his sight;

Then the Lady touched both of his eyes,

  With the candle’s flickering flame,

Without even feeling the slightest pain,

  Perfect vision to Paolesco soon came.

 

Then above, he saw rippling white clouds

  That looked like waves in the skies,

Below, the blue ocean sparkled so bright,

  Like millions of starry fireflies;

Glancing to the right, he saw great grandeur:

  A palace of glittering gold,

Like the lovely tips of a towering tiara,

  Its diamond spires were a sight to behold.

 

The city streets and sidewalks were paved

  With the most precious of elegant pearls,

And at the entrance to the main gate,

  The kingdom’s flag peacefully unfurls;

The people contentedly walked about,

  At a relaxed and comfortable pace,

They all seemed so cheerful and happy,

  With not a frown in the entire place.

 

Surrounding the palace, along the coast,

  Was the striking city of Paradise Bay,

The people’s houses were made of gems

  That gloriously gleamed during the day;

With twelve varieties of colorful stones,

  The city’s splendid skyline was very pretty,

Truly Paolesco had never yet seen

  A more breathtakingly beautiful city.

 

There was red jasper, flaming gold topaz,

  And sapphire of a brilliant blue,

There was luminous lavender amethyst,

  And the most elegant emerald too;

There was caramel-colored sardonyx,

  And an attractive aquamarine beryl,

Twelve in all lined the magnificent streets

  That were made of the most precious pearl.

 

Then he saw his beloved wife Rosinella

  Under two blooming magnolia trees,

She was holding the most exquisite rose,

  And her brown curls blew in the breeze;

When they both recognized each other,

  Time almost seemed to stand still,

He exuberantly and rapidly ran to her,

  And they embraced atop a hill.

 

Then he cavalierly took her by the waist

  And quickly swung her right around,

Paolesco had thought she was gone forever,

  But what was lost had now been found;

Giddy with joy, they toppled right over,

  And rolled to the hill’s very base,

As he looked into her deep dark eyes,

  The happiest of smiles was on his face.

 

Paolesco felt a serenity like never before,

  Experiencing an incredibly beautiful bliss,

He caressed Rosinella’s cheek with his hand

  Before giving her a loving kiss;

The Lady knelt down before her King,

  Returning the candle and the scroll,

Paolesco finally found his long-lost wife,

  So the Lady had accomplished her goal.

 

The King nobly nodded in approval to all,

  For the fulfillment of his master plan,

Paolesco had bravely proven himself,

  More like a knight than just a man;

He had listened to wise Petrio’s words,

  Of this, truly, he was never sorry,

He was grateful to a very special lady,

  The magnificent Lady of Stellamare.

MERRI AND THE SWEET SURRENDER /  by Joe Castorino

Everyone runs here and there calling for Merri,

They all need her help for their work at the dairy,

With so many interruptions, she has no time to tarry.

 

But Merri’s sincere surrender is gentle and sweet,

She turns her life over to Jesus and doesn’t miss a beat,

Living in the present moment, she washes the Lord’s feet.

THE MISSION OF CHARLIE CANDLESTICK /  by Joe Castorino

Charlie’s childhood dream

   was about to come true

As he bravely awaited

   his blast-off into space,

But at T minus 31 seconds,

   things started to turn tense

When the countdown

   suddenly stopped;

Fortunately, after many anxious

   hours, all systems were go,

And the rocket boosters

   powerfully ignited,

The stately spacecraft

   lethargically lifted off,

As if it had been awakened

   from a somber slumber.

 

The spacecraft thunderously

   roared and rumbled upwards,

With red fiery flames

   dancing behind,

And black billows of

   smoke quickly clouded the

Launching pad like a dark,

   gaseous galactic nebula;

Charlie shook in his seat

   as if he were riding on a

Rough road in a rickety,

   rollicking stagecoach,

And in two minutes of breathtaking

   acceleration, he was

Traveling over three

   thousand miles per hour.

 

He was now thirty miles up

   and halfway to space,

When the rocket boosters

   abruptly disengaged,

The two of them toppled

   and fell downward towards

The bright blue ocean like

   giant worn-out pencils;

Still accelerating, the

   orbiter speared upwards

At the scintillating speed

   of one mile per second,

Charlie’s orbiter now flew

   like lightning, and in a

Mere thirty seconds

   he was soaring in space.

 

Charlie was then surrounded

   by stars in the black sea

Of space, and he felt

   wondrously weightless,

Now gently gliding around

   Earth, he was fascinated

As he watched the sensational

   brilliance of the sun;

Below, he saw the beautiful

   blissful blue globe and

Was awed by its peacefulness

   and by its grandeur.

 

Interestingly enough,

   Charlie’s spiritual life

Has followed a very

   similar flight path,

Years ago, his petitions

   and other prayers seemed

To vanish into the vast void

   of a bleak black hole;

This was because his pitiful

   prayers were mumbled

Meaninglessly in the last

   few minutes of the day,

His rockets had little spiritual

   fuel for a journey to Heaven,

So his life’s countdown

   suddenly stopped.

 

Without enough spiritual fuel,

   Charlie knew that he

Risked crashing and burning

   in the fearful fires of hell,

An open-throated grave

   that savagely swallows

Sinners and belches forth

   filthy fumes of smoky sulphur;

He knew he needed to

   double down on his prayer

 Life to give greater thrust

   to his mission,

So he went to mass more,

   and delighted in the

Divine Office a little at a time

   throughout each day.

 

Because of Charlie’s awakening,

   he made the decision

To make persistent prayer

   the top priority of his life,

At first he didn’t notice a

   change, but with patience,

His spiritual life lifted off

   and safely reached orbit;

Soon his spirit was freed

   from the burdensome bonds

Of serious sin, and he felt

   wondrously weightless,

He gracefully glided towards

   the flaming monstrance

Of the Son, and His

   rays of Divine Mercy.

 

From the happy heights

   of the heavens, his

Panoramic perspective

   really changed,

Life appeared so much

   simpler through the

Detachment of prayer in front

   of the Blessed Sacrament;

The petty possessions,

   the worries of the world,

The fettering fears,

   the doomsday deadlines:

They were all so surprisingly

   insignificant compared

To a fabulous future

   filled with perfect peace.

MACSCROOGE AND THE MAELSTROM OF DIAMONDS /  by Joe Castorino

MacScrooge steered his sailing ship

  Towards the swirling maelstrom of mystery,

He heard that it held one of the most

  Tantalizing treasures in all of human history;

Old sailors say millions of sparkling

  Diamonds are twirling round and round,

Spinning like a glittering galaxy,

  The maelstrom makes a murmuring sound;

When he entered the Forbidden Sea,

  His ultimate goal was near,

He had heard that the vortex was deadly,

  And there was certainly reason to fear;

But more than anything else he wanted

  To own an envious pile of wealth,

Perhaps if he kept a safe distance,

  Then he might succeed through stealth.

 

From afar the magical whirlpool

  Shone with shimmering, glimmering light,

It was completely blanketed with diamonds

  Floating so very bright;

MacScrooge eased his ship carefully

  Into the whirlpool’s serpentine tail,

The waters seemed so peaceful

  That perhaps his mission wouldn’t fail;

As the waters crept along sleepily,

  Many gems by MacScrooge were collected,

With a heavy net he snatched them up,

  And there were many more than he expected;

His insatiable appetite for riches

  Grew through his laborious task,

MacScrooge’s beard dripped with sweat,

  So he took a drink out of his flask.

 

MacScrooge became so obsessed with diamonds

  That of surroundings he lost all sense,

But when his ship suddenly surged forward,

  He abruptly became very tense;

He noticed that the ship’s speed had

  Augmented in a very disturbing way,

The sea rapidly became rather turbulent,

  And it was turning into an ominous day;

Black clouds swiftly eclipsed the sun,

  And extinguished nearly all of its light,

MacScrooge’s heart sank like an anchor,

  And he trembled with terror and fright;

An icy, wicked wind began to blow,

  And he saw the waters violently churn,

Sadly, MacScrooge knew it was too late --

  He was beyond the point of no return.

 

From the center of the whirlpool

  There was an explosive and thunderous blast,

MacScrooge knew that something dangerous

  Was approaching very, very fast;

Then the vortex vomited sulphurous lava

  That sprayed high into the skies,

And molten rock fell like blazing meteors,

  A dreadful sight for his eyes;

The flaming boulders struck the sea

  And every diamond was ignited,

When MacScrooge saw the maelstrom on fire,

  He had never been less delighted;

Faster and faster the murderous maelstrom spun,

  Like a whirling wheel of fire,

And all of these events were triggered

  By MacScrooge’s inordinate desire.

 

MacScrooge had arrived at the mouth

  Of the vortex, and clearly this was not good,

While his ship was burning in ferocious

  Flames that hungrily ate its wood;

A vile, horrid, foul stench arose from

  Deep within the cavernous abyss,

This was far, far different from his dream,

  Of power and worldly bliss;

His ship plunged down into the funnel,

  In a death spiral leading towards hell,

And clutching the helm tightly,

  MacScrooge cursed and swore as he fell;

Then volcanic lightning blasted him

  And cooked the flesh off of his head,

The skeleton ship disappeared into the void,

  And, tragically, MacScrooge was dead.

 

When Lady MacScrooge heard the shocking news,

  Terror gripped her heart,

Like MacScrooge she lusted for power,

  But now she wished to make a fresh new start;

She would try to avoid all temptations

  That invited her to hoard,

Instead she would strive for love and peace

  Just like our Blessed Lord;

MacScrooge did only what he wanted,

  And that’s how he rolled the dice,

He avoided not the near occasion of sin,

  And that’s when he paid the price;

Since MacScrooge gambled with temptation,

  In the end he only got hurt,

It would have been better for him,

  If he had remained sober, vigilant, and alert.

THE ANCHOR /  by Joe Castorino

The captain loved the anchor

Of his elegant cruise ship,

He utterly adored that anchor,

It was solid silver and gold and

Was decorated with diamonds,

It sparkled in the moonlight,

But then a sudden storm swept

Over the sleepy sea and

So the anchor was lowered --

He clung to her metallic body,

Blinded by his foolish attachment,

Then as the anchor splashed

Into the thirsty black water,

The sharks’ blade-like teeth cut 

His flesh like a million daggers,

Mangling his wretched body,

And his soul sank deep into

The bottomless abyss of

The Dark Sea of Doom.

THE PARADISO: A DIVINE ROMANCE /  by Joe Castorino

Based on Dante’s Paradiso

As we look up into the warm face

Of the glorious, majestic Sun,

We are free from the weight of sin,

And so we gently soar upwards

At the sizzling speed of Light,

Into the marvelous Marian blue sky.


As we approach the Heavenly Realm,

We peacefully pass through the leaping

Flames of the bright Ring of Fire

Which orbits our little blue planet;

Then our ears are serenaded by

The lovely Music of the Spheres,

Each sphere slicing into space like

The melodious bow of a violin.


We begin by visiting the First Sphere,

An ever-changing inconstant orb,

And there we find those happy souls

Who, though unintentionally, broke

Their vows, and so, are in the lowest

Tier of Heaven, glad but not nearly

As happy as many other souls,

And yet they are content and they

Feel no envy whatsoever towards

Those more greatly blessed.


On the Second Sphere we see the

Virtuous seekers of holy honor;

Their happiness is clearly greater

Than the souls of the previous sphere

As they sing the praises of God

And dance with quiet contentment

In a place where fear does not exist.


On the Third Sphere are the amorous,

Who sinned with hearts full of lust,

But, by God’s holy grace, they learned

To love the most holy Son of Love;

Thus, these fortunate souls dance with

Overflowing joy, for they are saved!


On the Fourth Sphere are twelve 

Saintly doctors of the Holy Church,

They form a bright human garland 

In the air that is even more dazzling

Than the stars that shine behind;

Their hymn of praise resounds

Through all of the Heavenly Realm,

And their generous love is all in all.


On the Fifth Sphere are the valiant

Warriors of God who are arrayed in 

The formation of a large cross and

Their radiance is of a still greater

Intensity as they taste peace and joy

Unlike anything ever known on Earth,

They are like shooting stars darting

Across the sky in their holy ecstasy. 


On the Sixth Sphere, the souls are even

More beautiful, even more dazzling;

Here are the courageous, where the

Just and temperate rulers dwell in 

God’s peace, and above we can see the

Heavenly luminaries arranged to form

An eagle, surrounded by glowing lilies,

High up in the sparkling clear sky.


On the Seventh Sphere the holy 

Contemplatives live in a perpetual

State of sweet harmony, happiness

Following upon happiness, as they

Reflect with deep satisfaction on the

Inexhaustible Mysteries of Love;

They are surrounded by a globe

Of heavenly crystalline,

And atop of it is a Golden Ladder

Upon which saints soar

To the lofty summit of God’s glory.


As we ascend still higher, we arrive at

Our next destination, the Eighth Sphere,

Where the intense and ineffable ecstasy of 

Love deliciously fills all of these good souls

So completely and so eternally;

They smile with incomprehensible contentment

As they look back through the universe

And see the Earth, minuscule and 

Insignificant, and yet greatly loved

By the Lord, the King of the Universe;

Then through the theological virtues of

Faith, Hope, and Love, we are ready to 

Pierce deeper into the Heart of Love.


We arrive at the Primum Mobile and

Through the magnificent Mystical Rose

We can finally see the Empyrean itself,

Where God, who is Light from Light,

Is surrounded by choirs of angels:

Seraphim and cherubim, thrones and

Dominations, virtues and powers, 

Principalities and archangels -- all in

Ceaseless praise and holy jubilation.

This is where all words fall short,

For nothing can ever describe just

How good is the source of goodness,

How beautiful is the source of beauty,

How true is the source of all truth -- 

How can we even begin to describe

Spiritual union with The Divine Mercy?

The sublime serenity of eternal peace!

The dreamy delight of everlasting joy!

The sweet sensations of endless love!

DIVINE MERCY: CHOOSING LIFE /  by Joe Castorino

A Variation of Shakespeare’s Famous Soliloquy

The Child

To be

Or not to be,

That is the question:

Whether ‘tis nobler

For Mommy to surrender

To the slings and arrows

Of sacrificial love,

Or by aborting,

End me.

 

The Mother

To die from guilt while

contemplating abortion:

To sleep, to sleep

No more!

Perchance to have dreams --

Or eternal nightmares --

Of what I am about to do

To my innocent baby;

When I have shuffled off

The mortal coil of his

Umbilical cord and

Allowed him to be

Dis mem ber ed,

I dread something worse

Than death: Hell,

The undiscovered country;

Thus, conscience can make

Heroes of us all --

Soft you now,

It’s never too late,

So my fair baby shall live.

SAVED BY DIVINE MERCY /  by Joe Castorino

The Fall

Cambria’s tight and sexy little outfit

  Stirred Julius’ powerful lust,

His pulsating passion filled his strong sails

  With a sweetly sensual gust;

Her heart was hooked in an instant,

  As she looked into his handsome dark eyes,

He charmed her with his honeyed words,

  So she thought him an enviable prize.

Dear Father, please make them a creation new,

Forgive them: they know not what they do.

 

Their glances magnetically locked together

  In a twinkling starlight gaze,

Then both of them were spellbound

  In a delightful and enchanting haze;

Later on that delicious, romantic evening,

  Their heartbeats raced as one,

But lost in an exciting emotional whirlwind,

  Her virginity had been undone.

Dear Father, please make them a creation new,

Forgive them: they know not what they do.

 

The Suffering

Cambria was treated like a piece of meat,

  And was whisked into the operating room,

With people rushing around everywhere,

  She felt a very strong sense of doom;

Then a man came in and introduced himself,

  While he anxiously kept an eye on the clock,

He hurried around as if pressed for time,

  And for her this was a really a shock.

Dear Father, please make them a creation new,

Forgive them: they know not what they do.

 

Piece by bloody piece was ripped from

  Her poor and innocent little child,

As body parts lay in a flood of blood,

  The thought almost made her go wild;

Cambria walked out in a depressed daze,

  As if someone secretly stole her soul,

She fell fast, into an empty emotional abyss,

  And doubted she would ever feel whole.

Dear Father, please make them a creation new,

Forgive them: they know not what they do.



The Divine Mercy

Cambria sluggishly dragged herself around,

  In the clanking shackles of her sorrow,

Through years and years of depression,

  She dreaded the coming of each tomorrow;

Somehow, and she knew not how,

  She found herself alone in a little church,

And weeping tears of truth and honesty,

  Her soul she began to search.

When we follow the Light of the Dove,

We will always find Merciful Love.

 

Later that day as she went to confession,

  God soothed her soul with a healing balm,

Her face was flooded with happy tears,

  Soaking in the twenty-second psalm;

It felt as if holy honey, warm and pure,

  Was poured into her lacerated heart,

She discovered the love of Divine Mercy,

  Who helped her make a fresh new start.

When we follow the Light of the Dove,

We will always find Merciful Love.