Veronica stands in the court room
It’s cold, a December day
The decor is stark with
Sash from floor to ceiling

She’s dressed in glacier blue
Her aura a vibrant rose
Hot air vents are
Wafting round her up do

The sunset shafts of light 
Crawl up the judges late afternoon faces
A church bell tolls out on the square
Her eyes bore into theirs

She does not see the room
The sun, the bell, the frigid day
She steps right up
Speaks her reasoned argument

Early in the day on Christmas eve
She gets a decision
Her client would be
Executed

So her reasoned thoughts
Her prayers and pleas go unanswered
So she wants to go to midnight mass
She wants to know

Who is this evil god they worship there
She stands in the wet outside on the curb
Pulls on a veil
Goes inside

When the palavarians kneel
In reverence to the host
She stands in defiance
With disregard and irreverence

At the sign of the cross
She’s a hissing block of burning ice
Insence collides with brimstone and soot
Hellhounds compete with bells of choir

A tall black bearded priest
Descends to his supplicants
A velvet cloak drags
In the filth and the ashes of history

He raises the Monstrance
Says: “Venite adoremus.”
She examines him
And the scene prostrated all around

She says: “No.”