The Reluctant Visitor
The Reverend Peter Porter Guys
Was a gentle man with anaemic eyes,
Pale blue, that watered wherever he went
From Epiphany, to the fasting of Lent.
He walked the villages of his flock
From door to door, from knock to knock,
And always he mentioned the Organ Fund
To the full of life, and the moribund.
He went from house to house with glee
Consuming hundreds of cups of tea,
And never noticed - and there's the rub,
That 'hubby' had gone to hide at the pub.
The ladies listened with wringing hands
To the trials of Job and the Lord's commands,
And simpered long in the hopes that he
Could give them a personal 'Heaven' key.
Forgive their sins, both now and then
Put in a word with the Lord for them,
Perhaps forgive them a future sin
Or two or three - like a lottery win!
His eyes then watered, the Reverend Guys
He gave no specials, he told no lies,
The road was narrow, the road was straight
With no back alleys to Heaven's Gate.
One day he went to visit the Dunns
They hadn't been to his service once,
Just newly moved from a house in town
They'd come to the country, settled down.
Now Peggy Dunn, she wanted to fit
With the country types of Nether Stitt,
She'd sworn to please, so she asked him in
And they sat in her bright solarium.
His eyes, they watered in there the most
As he talked of the passing Holy Ghost,
While Peggy shuddered and looked askance
At the pot containing her cannabis plant.
Her husband Don was an atheist,
Who didn't believe that gods exist,
'We all came down from a worm, ' he said,
'That turned to a monkey; then we bred! '
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poem by David Lewis Paget
Added by Poetry Lover
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