Shelley: Entitled Thunderbird

   "Shelley:  Entitled Thunderbird"

   Shelley wended her weird way to Oklahoma, having great reverence for an approaching storm, using organic tobacco to purify her corporeal portion of fungi-like mites; next, while not giving a Cherokee's actual dance, as she wasn't infused with the total memories of the spirited people, she offered her Christian praise to show even more reverence to the awesome Thunderbird--So Alive with lightning in Its Eyes, and the storm did pass, morphing into Luna's feminine reflection of a Sun's kiss.
   Shelley, like all beneath the Throne of God save those symmetrically built like unto God, or the One Who was begotten, had had sin; on the contrary, pointing to the Christ-Man, and ever-questing towards Him and Absolute Truth, she was redeemed.  Yet as a Paladin, she was prone to great violence even; however, would not resort to using poison, nor dirty tricks, being merely a heart-stabber in times of war.
    When the lucid lesson exacted culmination, she rode the fossil-fuel burning light of a Ford Mustang's life-giving energy, an 8-Cylinder, roaring by way of two mufflers offering high-powered outtake--if ya know what she means.
   Away from the cowboy geography, back in the southern drawl of certain situations, she imbibed only the sublimity of all things, discarding any dastardly determination to bring her down, being fashioned by God Almighty in her own unique mold.
   She went to a tavern, and even as a classy lady, she was allowed the mildly sober effects of two golden brews, offering the bar wench, a term of two-beer endearment, a mercurial burp that seemed to escape from a source of momentary jocularity, and all was way cool and well, her wearing her battle scars without pride or shame, and believing that was the single reason she never needed to get a tattoo--not even of an angel.  For her angel was a warrior father, who endured more than his proper portion, and she was the rebellious child, who always kept that adored patriarch alive with her eternal heartbeat, hearing it always, like mighty Samson pounding the Earth better than a rock and roller's beating drum.