Sacrilegious Storm

The storm thrust itself
Against the convent walls
With all the powers of God.

Lecherous sheets of rain
Doused young women in white
To see the flesh underneath,
While the ravenous wind,
Raging and lustful,
Tried to unclothe them.

The cold delighted in running its fingertips
Up long skirts,
Long legs,
Shuddering breasts,
And hardened nipples.

The tempest cared nothing
For the sanctity of this place,
As it chased virgins round the courtyard.

But at last its passion peaked
And was spent,
Leaving the ravaged maidens
To catch their breath.