Friday, June 17, 2011

Poetry Slam Friday

(I picked this one because it reminded me of Bob and Ramon)

Dear mother, dear mother, the Church is cold;
But the Alehouse is healthy, and pleasant, and warm.
Besides, I can tell where I am used well;
The poor parsons with wind like a blown bladder swell.

But, if at the Church they would give us some ale,
And a pleasant fire our souls to regale,
We'd sing and we'd pray all the livelong day,
Nor ever once wish from the Church to stray.

Then the Parson might preach, and drink, and sing,
And we'd be as happy as birds in the spring;
And modest Dame Lurch, who is always at church,
Would not have bandy children, nor fasting, nor birch.

And God, like a father, rejoicing to see
His children as pleasant and happy as he,
Would have no more quarrel with the Devil or the barrel,
But kiss him, and give him both drink and apparel.


Lewd Bob said...

I already subscribe to that religion.

Ramon Insertnamehere said...

That's some fine poetry slamming, Pers.

It almost makes up for your comment earlier about The Go-Betweens.


patchouligirl said...

Yes I think more alcohol could soften my resolve on Atheism. I'm not sure it would lead to the love-in that the poet describes though.

Mr E Discharge said...

Nice one PQ.