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THE WISE AND FOOLISH VIRGINS

Though few girls die as virgins now,

And fewer still their wedding vow

Will ever make devout, demure,

Unbedded, chaste, naive and pure.

And though the white that’s worn with pride

By nearly every modern bride

More than likely signifies

Cant, hypocrisy and lies.


I’d ask you all with joy, not stricture

To call to mind, imagine, picture

A bride who makes her stately way

Upon her long-planned wedding day

Resplendent in the whitest white,

Along a path in sunshine bright

Towards a little country church.


From a nearby gum-tree’s perch

The cockatoos appear to scream

That brides in white aren’t what they seem.,

While crickets trill their descant shrill

And as the bridal party fill

The tiny porch with happy giggles,

And flower girl and page boy wriggles.


A bride who’d rather not offend

Must choose as bridesmaid every friend!

Though this can mean she ends with more

Than she, perhaps, had bargained for.

Today, demure and blue of dress,

No less than ten of them process

Slowly in before the bride ,

It’s hard to get them all inside.

The aisle’s so short the church so small,

There’s little room to move at all.

But all goes well, they all fit in

The cockatoo’s atrocious din

Is blotted out, and all but drowned,

By a wheezing, groaning sound.

It’s Wagner’s wedding march perhaps,

With here a pause and there a lapse.

The old harmonium’s badly played

By the district’s last old maid


In twenty minutes all is done

The bride and groom are now made one,

Confetti, kisses, petals, rice,

A laugh or two, then in a trice

The happy bridal group’s forsaken

Is left to have some photos taken,

As guests and family, one and all

Cross a paddock to the hall.

There a band and lots of booze

Will lighten spirits and amuse,

Until the bridal couple come.

Whereupon things start to hum.

For once the boring talks are done with

Then the guests can have their fun with

Anyone they can detach

Disentangle, seize or snatch,

Charm, entice away, allure

From either spouse or paramour

As the evening turns to morning

And magpies herald daytime’s dawning.


The bridesmaids, each and every one

Join with gusto in this fun,

For what a waste and what a pity

If unattached and very pretty

Girls so vital to proceedings

Hearken to old-maidish pleadings,

For caution, care, sobriety,

Refinement or propriety!


Now five of them are worldly wise

The other five are otherwise!

The worldly wise, adopting tactics

Involving rubber prophylactics.

Can leave the wedding unalarmed

If not intact, at least unharmed.


The foolish five who don’t prepare

In such a manner, might well fare,

When at last the party’s done

Rather worse from all the fun.

There’s just a chance they’ll find, alas

That pregnancies have come to pass!


And thus the wise, the ones who win

Are those who’re well prepared for sin

Whereas the fools, the five who lose

Are those naive, who quite refuse

To be prepared and so perhaps

Are left with babies in their laps!

It all at first seems oddly wrong,

But on reflection, not for long

Because the unprepared, you see,

The ones who foolish seemed to be

They were prepared! Prepared to take

The risk of making a mistake

It’s saying “No!”, not prophylactics

That constitute their risky tactics,

And this, though far from worldly wise

Just might be wise to heavenly eyes.

The foolishness of God being wiser,

(So says St Paul, a sure adviser)

Than the wisdom of mere man


AN OLD CHESTNUT RE-ROASTED

Henry Tudor, England's king,

  The one who split with Rome,

Summoned once to Hampton Court,

  His Thames-side royal home,


Bishop Charles of Bangor, perhaps

  A papist in disguise

And whom he wished therefore to test,

  To quiz and catechise.


The bishop, not a learned man,

  This ordeal faced with dread.

Knowing that a feeble showing

  Would mean he'd lose his head.


So in despair he went to see

  His brilliant, learned brother,

A monk for wit and learning matched

  In Europe by no other.


"We look so very much alike,"

  Remarked the Bishop's brother,

"That King nor anyone can tell

  Either from the other."


"So I, not you, will see the king

  To face his catechism

And thus perhaps we'll foil the man

  Who's brought our Church to schism!"


And so to Hampton Court the monk

  Made his prayerful way,

To face his vengeful, cruel monarch

  One dark and gloomy day


"I've three good questions for you, Bishop,"

  Said the King, directly,

"You'll lose your head unless they're answered

  Promptly and correctly."


"First, how deep's the ocean, Bishop?

  Answer fast, don't stall!"

"Easy," said the Bishop's brother,

  "A stone's throw deep, that's all."


Grudgingly the king accepted

  This answer as correct.

Surprised indeed to find a Bishop

  Of wit and intellect!


"Second, who's the greatest man

  Who's ever lived on earth?"

"Easy. Jesus Christ, of course,

  Whom Mary brought to birth!"


This question, Henry, eaten up

  With egotistic cancer,

Had wanted to be given, of course,

  A sycophantic answer!


And so his third and final question

  He asked in wrath and rage

"What's in my mind? What am I thinking?

  Bishop wise and sage?"


"That's easy," said the Bishop's brother

  "You think that I'm another!

That I am Bishop Charles of Bangor

  But I am just his brother."


BETTING ON THE ARCHBISHOP

In a snooty Melbourne Club

  Idly bored and yawning

Sat two retired business men

  At ten one Monday morning.


The only other occupant

  Read the Melbourne "Age"

Totally absorbed it seemed

  In every single page.


Said business man to business man,

  "That fellow over there

I'm sure's the Anglican Archbishop,

  Though it doesn't do to stare!


"That he should be a fellow member

  Of this exclusive club

Surprises me, for how can he

  Afford the mighty sub?"


"That's not the Anglican Archbishop,"

  Said the other man,

"He looks far more intelligent

  Than any bishop can!"


"It is, I tell you," said the first,

  "I'll bet you fifty dollars,

For I can sniff the clergy out

   Without or with their collars!"

 

They argued fiercely for a while,

  Each stubbornly one-sided

Until to ask the man himself

  They both of them decided.


They tossed a coin to settle who

  Should rise to go and ask.

He who thought the man the bishop

  Won the dubious task.


And so he rose and made his way

  Across the room and said:

"Aren't you the Anglican Archbishop?"

  The stranger raised his head


And shouted in a vehement voice

  Both evil and malign,

"Mind your own vile, bloody business

  You nosy, nasty swine!"


The business man returned, sat down,

  Amazed but not undone.

He said, "The blighter wouldn't tell me!"

  So neither of them won!


FR AMADEUS BEWARE

In Mother Church, a much loved friend,

Perhaps the hardest thing to comprehend

Is how so many muddling mediocrities

And tiresome, talentless nonentities

Rise to "Venerable" dominance

Or even "Very Reverend" prominence!


Who, insecure upon so high a perch,

Can't cope with wilful talent in their Church,

Are jealous of ability and flair,

Applauding only those who never dare

To question, query, challenge, answer back,

Promoting none except the sycophantic hack!


Yet I suppose it's ever been the same,

That nearly all professions play this game,

Talent by the talentless aborted,

Achievement and success demeaned or thwarted....

Fr Amadeus, beware and wary

Of envious Archdeacon Salieri!


SOZZLED DAFT ON NECTAR

Five years a buzzing busy bee

Sozzled daft on nectar

I've thrived, well hived, have stung, been stung

At Ararat, your Rector.


Through God's good grace I've loved the place

Have buzzed about with pleasure.

Its bluestone church especially

I hold most dear and treasure.


The Rectory's old and can be cold,

It's worn, but also spacious.

It stands substantial, solid, sound,

A bit run down, but gracious.


And Ararat's a pleasing town,

Its climate brisk and keen.

Its atmosphere is bright and clear,

Its streets well treed and clean.


All of this I'd sorely miss

Were I to leave tomorrow,

Its people more though I'd deplore

To leave. I'd go in sorrow.


I'd miss its "clients", gaol-birds, slobs,

Not just its brisk, keen cold,

Its ratbags, yobs, its well-heeled snobs

And also friends untold.


And Father John who soldiers on

No matter who's his Rector,

Ranting fundamentalist

Or smoking genuflector!


And also Lil, John's marvellous spouse

And partner archetypal

His loyal wife, who all her life

Has been God's true disciple.


My wardens three mean much to me

Gavin, David, Howard.

Their care, concern, support and help

Have never flagged or soured.


Financial matters in the main

I've held in great disdain,

Driving Moira first, then Sybil,

Our Treasurers, insane.


Joan Talbot, Secretary of Council

Of kind and open mind.

To all my faults and foibles

Has been humanely blind.


Council members, past and present,

Like Collins, Wiltshire, Crook

Have many times my sins forgiven

And let me off the hook.


And Harricks, Jackson, Millear, Bullock

Norman-Bail and Madley,

Bonsacks, Newsomes, Croft and Wells,

I'd leave them all most sadly.


My strong desire to start a choir

When first as priest I came here

I'm most surprised we've realised,

I hold it very dear.


It challenges, brings lots of fun

Giggles, belly laughs and groans

Eustace, Gavin, George and Nick

Jenny, Kris, two Joans,


Kristy, Cathy, Leila, Marg,

Wendy, Jamie, Rod

All lift our hearts to play their parts

In worshipping our God.


Jean Crebbin's been an inspiration,

Salty, cultured, witty,

Progressively conservative,

Determined, strong and gritty.


Elsie Beggs is more progressive

Than many half her age

Her active, kind, inquiring mind

Is shrewd, judicious, sage.


Mrs Preece and Mrs Wigan

Have sparkling fun-filled eyes

The sunny sisters, Mrs Sherlock

And Mrs Millear, likewise.


Jean Rogers, Rita Roadknight too

Are faithful as can be,

Tom Lewis too has been true blue

Full of bonhomie.


The servers under Tara's guidance

The Youth Club under Rick

Have faithfully fulfilled their tasks

And rarely missed a trick.


Peg Moorfoot who's our sacristan

Is another of my fancies

Birds and kids and animals

She loves, like good St Francis


Kelvin Turner's melancholic,

Mordant, caustic wit,

Reg Wiltshire's eccentricity

Have pleased this Pommie twit.


Emma, Shane and Penny Harricks

Have more than compensated

For all the vandalising yobs

I've chased, reviled and hated.


I cannot mention everyone

Without going on all night

Too many of my parish folk

Have given me delight.


Which is why I'm on a high

Sozzled daft on nectar

Although a far too buzy bee

At Ararat your rector.


The nectar that inebriates me

Is love, support and care

Of which you've given much to me

More than you're aware.


It's this I'd miss above all else

Were I to leave tomorrow

For folk who've loved and cared for us

We tend to leave in sorrow.


But now I'm sounding mawkish, trite,

Down right sentimental

Something I consider vile,

Almost excremental!


So let me say, in no dismay,

That though I've thrived, well hived,

I've also stung, been stung, among

You all since I arrived.


So thank you all for five good years

At Ararat as Rector

Of stinging well and being stung,

While sozzled daft on nectar.


EASTER HOPE FOR POOR ARARAT(circa 1992)

Ararat's a lovely town

With streets that amble up and down,

That wind and wander round about,

Here and there and in and out.


It nestles on the southern side

Of great Victoria's Great Divide

Its hills abound with kangaroos

And offer long and lovely views


But what a sad and sorry state

Seems now its melancholy fate!

Shrunken, shrivelled, down and out,

Abandoned, lost and knocked about.


Houses everywhere for sale

Including monstrous Aradale.

Who would want to settle down

In such a shrunken, down-cast town?


Its railway yards once hummed with life

Until the economic knife

That spoils and wrecks and penny pinches

Cut those yards to piddling inches!


Aradale as well has closed

But not as first we all supposed

Because so old an institution

Required updated substitution,


But rather, most of us would say,

Because it seemed the easy way,

To wield that economic knife

That bleeds away a city's life.


At least its sister institution,

Achieved updated substitution!

The old forensic centre closed

But was replaced. We all supposed


Forever. And at hefty cost,

So here at least all wasn't lost!

But no, this too now's in its death throes.

It's end has come. It has to close!


The churches too fight to survive

Are far more dead than they're alive.

Even pentecostal churches

In Ararat fall off their perches!


Whereas elsewhere it's said they grow,

Or so their leaders like to crow.

Here too then Ararat's unique,

Sadly different, odd, a freak.


But lets not only weep and wail

There's still at least a thriving gaol,

That gives employment, brings in cash

And strange dependents, drugs and hash.



And Chalambar, the gambling hole,

Has sold its good-sport, fair-go soul

To bring us pokie hope and madness

To blow away dismay and sadness.


There's always hope! The tide can turn!

Disaster can be left astern,

For Ararat's a lovely town

With streets that amble up and down.


Nestling on the southern side

Of great Victoria's Great Divide

It's ringed with eucalyptused hills,

Its beauty hearts with pleasure fills.


And from its present dereliction

Despair, dismay and crucifixion

Hope can grow and restoration,

Joy, redemption and elation.


For gaols and pokies, nails and cross

Despair and population loss

Dismay, depression, and dejection

Faith holds, will lead to resurrection.


RECTOR'S REPORT 1995

In July a Rector gives

An "Annual Report"

Of usually a dull, immodest

Wordy, dreary sort.


Pretending that his parish grows

And goes from strength to strength,

A lie the which to propagate

He'll go to any length.


In which himself he justifies

Applauds, defends, excuses,

Laying any blame that's due

On others he accuses.


But he's a paragon of virtue,

Called by God to come

To be deferred to, preach and teach

(And idle on his bum).


Reports like this are not my scene.

Blunt truth I much prefer

As anyone who reads my verse

Will readily infer.


Here goes then! In the year that's past

Our parish didn't grow.

We're where we were this time last year.

Or very nearly so.


This isn't any body's fault

Unless of course it's mine,

For I have been, an arrogant

And less than fervent swine.


I rise each morning very early,

My prayers to say contrive,

Opening up our lovely church

Just after half past five,


But there, at prayer, I often find

I wallow in self-doubt,

Or worse I scribble evil verse

Instead of being devout.


The hours I spend perfecting sermons

So elegant of phrase,

Are spent as much for Neaum's glory

As for his Maker's praise.


My pew sheets with their jokes and quotes

Are made to make folk think

Of God! But also that I'm clever,

For which, of course, they stink.


My visits to the sick and dying

Spring often from compassion.

But sometimes of reluctant duty

There's far too good a ration.


Teaching fools in schools is fun,

But only as I do it.

In prospect and in preparation,

I hate the task and rue it.


Although I love my faithful flock

Value and admire them

Should they, lukewarm, desert their Church

I want to roast and fry them,


Strike them from the parish roll

For Laodiceanism.

Frustrated rage is very much

An Andrew Neaumism!


Very far from organised,

A great procrastinater,

I push aside essential tasks

To do, too late, much later.


That most of you can tolerate

So fallible a swine,

Indicates that all of you

Might share these sins of mine!


That I'm acceptable as priest

Because I'm one of you,

No haloed saint without a taint,

But just a sinner too.


A better priest I'm bound to be

If one both like and for you.

It means my sins and faults amount,

In their way, to virtue!


DESPERATION

The Rector of a little parish

Its tiny congregation lavish

In word not deed, in praise not cash,

Was tempted once to something rash!


His verger, taciturn and dim,

He called inside to talk with him,

About a cunning little scheme

That made his eyes with mischief gleam.


"On Sunday next, my dear man,

We'll put in place this cunning plan.

That should my tight-pursed paltry flock

From stinginess disturb and rock.


"I'll preach a sermon full of fire

Threatening hell and brimstone dire,

And as I shout and punch the air,

Grimace, glower, groan and glare,


"You must in the belfry sit,

To wait for your important bit,

With by your side some oily rags

Made from cotton flour bags.


"As my voice I raise up higher

And like Elisha call down fire

To burn the sinful in the pew

Those words must be to you a cue


"To set on fire the oily rags

Made from cotton flour bags

And waft down clouds of evil smoke

To terrify my simple folk


"And make them think my threat's occurred

That God my fiery sermon's heard,

That flaming judgement's on its way,

God's wrath has come and come to stay!


"When such a wonder they have seen

They'll never evermore be mean!

They'll give their all in perturbation

Terrified of God's damnation!"


Next Sunday then, their plan is set!

The church is full (but still in debt).

The Rector's ranting rises higher,

Calling down from heaven fire.


He raves and rants, he sobs and chants,

He roars and shouts, he puffs and pants,

All to call forth and evoke

That cloud of black and evil smoke!


But naught transpires! The smoke won't come!

It's very, very worrisome!

No heavenly wrath or fire descends!

No thunder clap the silence rends!


He tries again. He gives them more,

Threats and shouts and roars galore.

Like Elisha, how he tries

To call down fire from the skies!


But still no heavenly fire descends!

No thunder clap the silence rends!

This is not damnation's hour!

Instead, the verger from the tower,


Is heard to groan by everyone

"It's no use Father, we're undone!

 All our hopes the devil snatches!

"The cat has pissed upon my matches!"


AN UNLIKELY TRINITY

(Written for an ABC Interview taped on 6.3.97

 Broadcast 9.3.97)

Speaking economically

That is, acronymicly,

The ABC and C of E

Are very, very dear to me.

For both, you see, if seems to me,

Prefer by far integrity

And excellence and quality

To vulgar popularity.

And so together, quite implausibly,

They're linked, unlikely twins, in me.


But both are being urged, today

To take a very different way,

And join the hectic, frantic race

Dictated by the market-place;

To go with the commercial flow

And let their great tradition go.

To up the ratings, fill the pews,

Pander, flatter and amuse

The common herd, the milling mob,

Sheila, yahoo, nerd and yob;

On radio with soap or slime.

In church with puerile nursery rhyme,

Instead of sweetly edifying,

Challenging, electrifying,

With Occam's Razor, Science Shows,

Or Gibbons hymns and Cranmer's prose

Compass, Rumpole, Simulcasts,

Ancient saints' days, feasts and fasts,

The God Who Sings, The Bill, Frontline,

Plainsong psalms, Communion wine,


May both my acronymic loves

Linked in me like Lovey doves,

Hold their co-inciding courses

Resisting evil market forces,

And so the two, with me as three

Remain a loving trinity.


FOR SUE YOUNG ON HER

SIXTIETH BIRTHDAY

The age of certainties and fixities

Ended with the glorious sixties.

Then Suzie Young was young indeed

Then all the young at heart were freed

From old taboos and prohibitions,

Constraints, controls and inhibitions.


Then how good to be alive,

And dancing to the Dave Clarke Five,

Jimmy Hendryx, Beatles, Stones

On crackling groovy gramophones

While flower-powered and gently stoned

Free in love, testosteroned.

Glorious days to dwell upon,

But only in the mind, they’re gone!


The sixties though, for Suzie Young,

Haven’t gone, they’ve just begun.

But still they promise liberation,

Freedom, joyful jubilation,

Old restrictions disappearing

And gloomy dark horizons clearing.


For teaching’s stress and mess and ruckus

She’s left behind to younger suckers.

From mewling, puking kids she’s freed,

There’s sometimes time to think and read.


Her children now are all grown-ups

Less pains in gut than minor hiccups

So teenage tantrums, moods and rages

Have not disturbed her ears for ages.


And love still dominates the life

Of Anne the happy sixties wife

For husband Andrew loves her still,

With heart and mind and soul and will,

No beery, bulbous-bellied wreck,

Is he, nor foolish pain-in-neck!

As when he wed, so now the same,

Young in heart and looks and name.


So Suzie dear, it seems to me

Your sixties simply have to be,

As shown by these my simple rhymes

The dawning of the best-of-all-times.


THE DEATH OF A TRUE-BLUE CATHOLIC

Two mates one windy night and cold

Who long on beer had celebrated,

Left their pub and homeward rolled,

Plastered, bombed, intoxicated.


A bitter wind that promised trouble

Blears their eyes and chills their bones,

With beads of moisture jewels their stubble,

Round dingy buildings whines and groans.


They staggered down the sodden street

When from behind them loomed a car

Which side-swiped Gary off his feet

To leave him bleeding on the tar.


He lay their gasping, stupefied

As Blue, his mate, help up his head.

He coughed and gurgled as he tried

To speak, and then at last he said:


“I’ve had it Blue, for sure I’m dying.

I’m heading for the other side.

I’m finished mate. It’s no use lying.”

Though Blue, his trusty cobber, tried:


“Don’t give up for God’s sake Gary,

The ambulance is on its way.

They’ll fix you up as quick as Larry,

You’ll live to drink another day.”


“Bull-shit Blue,” replied his mate.

“Call for me a man of prayer.

St Peter’s waiting at the gate,

I’m almost gone, I’m nearly there.”


So call for me the Salvo man,

To pray my booze and sins away,

He’ll come as quickly as he can,

He loves a chance to have a pray.


“But Gary, you’re a bloody Catholic,

Not a wowser Salvo man,

So let me call for Father Patrick

Seamus, Sean O’Halloran.”


“For God’s sake no! Not Father Patrick,

Don’t be bloody ignorant!

For though, for sure, I’m true-blue Catholic

And not a bloody Protestant,


“That means, though dying filled with piss,

An evil, whoring, wicked sod,

I’d never on a night like this,

Call out from bed a priest of God.”


DIVES AND LAZARUS

A rich, retired, ex-socialist

Australian head of state

Abandoned left-wing principles

And his wife to fate,

 

And metamorphosed overnight.

Became an entrepreneur

An arty weekend, dinner-party,

La-di-da poseur.


The poor could get no nearer to him

Than his mansion’s gate

The workers he’d once backed and fought for

Now he seemed to hate,


Because he’d signed up with the bosses,

Joined the rich man’s club,

Frequenting snobby cocktail bars

In preference to the pub.


His former mates he never ever

Let between his gates.

Especially one called Lazarus,

In grim and dire straits


Who’d twice attempted suicide,

Unable now to cope,

With losing his employment, health,

And wife, and wits, and hope.


This man, a shaking, broken beggar,

Short of breath and wheezy

Dirty, smelly, lousy, scruffy,

Scabrous, lame and sleazy,


Every day from dawn to dusk

Begged and whined and pleaded

By the rich mans gate for food

And any cash he needed.


The rich man looked the other way

As chauffeur-driven fast

Through the monstrous gates each day

Poor Lazarus he passed


Far worse, he set his dogs upon him,

Wild of eye, unmuzzled,

Was puzzled when they didn’t bite,

But whimpered, licked and nuzzled. 


One gloomy day in early May

Death opened wide its door

To both the rich ex-socialist

And Lazarus the poor.


And through death’s door they both found more

Than they had bargained for,

Roles reversed, the last as first,

The rich folk now the poor.


Loved and valued Lazarus

Had all that he desired

Was lauded, feted, loved, applauded

And generally admired.


He blossomed in the company

Of Abraham, Isaiah,

St Francis, Mary Magdalene

And poor old Jeremiah.


The rich man, known as Dives though,

The turn-coat entrepreneur,

The arty weekend dinner-party

La-di-da poseur,


Shrivelled in the company

Of evil Jereboam,

Hitler, Stalin, Mao Tse Tung

And stupid Rehoboam.


The gulf called wealth divided them

Before they both had died,

The gulf called justice did the same

When on the other side.


Across the which, the man once rich

Now deigned to cast his eye

And there he saw the man once poor

Now blessed and set on high.


He called to him for some relief

From hellish, burning heat,

For just a nip, a tiny sip

Of water cold and sweet.


Discovering though, that once you’ve died

Then justice must be done,

So Dives has to suffer

And Lazarus have fun.


Whereupon there came to Dives

A semi selfless thought,

He’d have his brothers warned unless

They too, like him, were caught.


To politicians far more vital

Than service to their nation

Are family, fortune, perquisites

And superannuation,


A visit to his family then

By someone resurrected

From the dead, like Lazarus

He hoped and half expected


Might teach his brothers to include

In future plans and goals

As well as mansions for their bodies

Mansions for their souls.


But mansions on the other side

Are built of love and grace,

It’s not the self, but other folk,

Who there take pride of place.


So Abraham told Dives that

His mammon loving brothers

Would never heed or understand

This talk of love for others.


Indeed, if God himself was cruelly

Killed then resurrected

By such as them the truth would go

Completely undetected.


TREASURE IN A FIELD

In the land of mountebanks

Where the miser mammon rules,

Our sacred buildings are the banks

The faithful, money-maddened fools.


Salvation is a lotto win

The Gospel teaches “take” not “give”

Generosity’s a sin

To grab and keep is how to live.


Honour lies in what you’ve got,

There’s nothing worse to trouble you

Than loss of ocean going yacht

Or gleaming B.M.W.


Saints are twerps, devoid of honour,

Wealthy, witless, glitterati,

Blessed Mary’s now “Madonna”

Graceless, narcissistic, tarty.


Poverty and unemployment

Constitute the worst of sins.

It’s only cash that brings enjoyment

Wealth alone fulfilment wins.


And mammon rules the Church as well,

The poor aren’t now considered blessed.

To have but little, that is hell,

To have a lot’s by far the best.


For churchmen nearly all, alas

Live in double-incomed ease

Are resolutely middle class

And pray from fat and fleshy knees.


So when the churches take the lead

In criticising poverty,

Denouncing governments for greed

For causing want and paucity,


The odour of hypocrisy

Can seem particularly rank

The bishop, like a pharisee,

Has eye balls clogged and blocked with plank,


That blind should lead the blind defies

The parable’s advice you’ll find.

Like pulling specks from others’ eyes

When you yourself are more than blind.


With humps of wealth upon his back

The comic camel’s present too,

Church leaders have the happy knack

Of oozing, squeezing, twisting through


The needle’s eye to heavenly leisure

Thus so to Mammon Christians yield

Mistaking parabolic treasure

For muck of mammon in a field.


LINES FOR MARJORIE GLANVILLE

       ON HER SIXTIETH BIRTHDAY

As relentlessly the clocks

Have ticked their ticks and tocked their tocks,

Marking Marjie's passing years,

Her joys and sorrows, fun and tears,

We note a pleasing paradox,

She's not grown old, for all life's knocks,

Remaining full of vim and vigour

Young at heart and fine of figure;

Piano teaching, church bell ringing,

Organ playing, choir singing,

Versifying, gardening, weeding,

Decorating cakes and reading,

Taxi driven, averse to driving,

But not at all to scuba diving.

She also dances very well,

And talks and talks and talks pell-mell.


Love of God her life imbues,

She's strong of faith and strong of views.

She'll never sink into senility,

Though sunk already in felinity,

Which means, in case you haven't guessed,

She's cat besotted and obsessed.

We love her dearly and admire her,

And wish we'd half the sparks that fire her.

Congratulations Marjie dear

A sixty-year old without peer.