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I searched, and couldn't find a topic for posting your poetry. So, I thought that I would start one.

I just wrote a sonnet, with iambic pentameter, about Asherah, old Yahweh's former consort.

King Solomon built temples for his wives.
The women baked cakes for you out of dough.
Your prostitutes made worship come alive.
Jehovah loved you more than you will know.

Oh Asherah, you were the Queen of Heav’n.
We worshiped you and loved your figurines.
Your Veneration was our main obsess’n,
Until they told us that you were obscene.

Josiah desecrated all your alt’rs.
He burned down temples, and your image, too.
He spread the ashes of the priests he slaught’r’d.
Said you were fake, we must not worship you.

But we can solve the problem with a prayer.
We just believe in you, and poof, you’re there!