Here is one of Catherine Tufariello's graceful sonnets. Dick, what think you of the off rhyme at the close?
NO ANGEL
All that thou sayest unto me I will do.
Ruth 3:5
No angel stood there, only her mother-in-law,
Eyeing the bag of roasted grain and scheming,
Foretelling how she'd find him--sprawled and dreaming
Beside the barley sheaves, on bales of straw.
Like wings, she said, his cloak would cover them.
The plan risked everything. But as before--
While aisles of rustling wheatstalks whispered Whore--
Ruth walked alone through shuttered Bethlehem.
She stood above him. Started turning. Stayed.
The dozing reapers sighed but did not hear.
Watched by the neutral moon, she watched him stir,
Heard his stuttering snores, and was afraid.
A moment later, God did not appear,
And Boaz wakened to the scent of myrrh.
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