The Priest & the Mother's Tale

Oh what a glorious sight to see, little lambs brimming full with glee

Fortune blesses my pious folk, by sowing righteous seed the fruit awoke

Dear Madam your loins did give birth, to three heavenly angels on this Earth

Give praise to our Lord up above, who grants bounty for those in love

A mother more proud there cannot be, I pray every day and bend the knee

For being gifted with such a boon, to treasure night morning & afternoon

Dear Father it’s purely thanks to you, your faith your guidance & your virtue

Without which us poor sinners are lost, and thus condemned to bear the cost

Dear Madam you are a credit to the community, afflicted albeit by your pristine beauty

A burden so great do you carry, wanton desires are you compelled to parry

Fortitude & rectitude serve as your saviour, to repel men’s lustful primal behaviour

An object of desire like Helen of Troy, you occupy the fancies of many a boy

Dear Father be it as it may, scripture and worldliness keep them at bay

I employ myself as best I can, to stay true to my beloved man

But the father of my cherished children, spends most of his days in the seedy tavern

Drinking until he crumbles upon all fours, he has a penchant for those exotic whores

Menfolk are lured and go astray, unable to keep evil temptation at bay

Aloof to the teachings of the holy tenet, they display neither temperance nor moderate

Dear Madam your honour is in safe hands, as pure as snow as finite as sands

Yet lechery lurches towards the infernal limbo, for those who dote upon legs akimbo

Lucky are those devoid of carnal pleasure, sacrifice discipline sobriety and measure

Shepherd the path of the enlightened, towards the undefiled truth heightened

Dear Father your piety brings me asunder, your wisdom resonates like the loudest thunder

My entrails quiver at your every word, your aura sparks me as a fledgling bird

Dear Madam may I draw your attention, to Satan’s work I don’t dare to mention

Heretics and freaks only deserve short shrift, and can only expect a poisoned gift

Damned be the merging of caste and shade, forbidden is the union of ruby and jade

For a barren wasteland can only forebode, for those who dare to question the code

Dear Father you have my undivided attention, I see that of which you allude to mention

Heretics and freaks only deserve short shrift, and can only expect a poisoned gift

Damned be the merging of unhearing and cripple, may their waters be devoid of animate ripple

Fate knocks at the deaths of dawn, to deliver a soulless child still-born

The silent wailing of ultimate despair, is rather too much for me to bear

Let them be with their lives in tatters, for I have in mind much more urgent matters

Dear Madam in the morn’ if you’re free, pray come and visit my presbytery

To receive the body of Christ as a token, of goodwill fervour and words unspoken

Judgement alone awaits the forsaken, their profanity into account will be taken

The wretched do indeed our conscience defile, from our hearts may they enjoy the sweetest exile

Dear Father in the morn’ on my knees, will I obeyingly do as you please

Pray raise before me the body of Christ, on the occasion of our incorruptible tryst