A priest there lived in Battersea
unlike all priests before,
for he alone in all the church
a silken vestment wore;
hand-woven from the finest cloth
that Whippels could provide,
and to ensure against the moth
their balls he strapped inside.

This priest concelebrated Mass
with fellow clerics true,
and round the altar he incensed
until they turn-ed blue;
the smoke arose and filled the nave
and round the rafters rolled,
so none could see him misbehave
with two young servers bold.

But when he reached his time of rest
he said he would not leave,
despite the Bishop's stern command
his hook he'd have to heave;
but finally he met his match
when the new Curate came,
he packed his bags and left that day,
the Curate was a dame!

©Pharisaios Publications 2001

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