The Living Poetry prompt was Council, Mark, Store. Since it came out on the September 19th, I was fully prepared to write something about Queen Elizabeth the Second. Until Bart Bartholemew’s poem hijacked by thoughts. Plus the Wordle for the day was Saint. Anyway, my thoughts went in a completely different direction. Apologies for using counsel, not council. It’s a homophone anyway
Saints take their counsel
from celibate men in cassocks
they store their treasure in heaven
no expiration dates
accessible only after death
The rest of us
prideful, wrathful, envious, lustful, gluttonous, and slothful
hope to avoid the Mark of the Beast
tiptoe into heaven
behind Mary’s skirt
2ndactblogger 
This is great. And rules are made to be broken in poetry so good on you for using a homophone.
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