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Vicar Tynan sat amongst his roses in a Friday morning sun,
that shone in beams through willow branch and leaves,
where it’s time to think of Sunday and what sermon must be done,
when he heard squabbling coming from his eaves. 

Two blackbirds were in heated conflict for the right to choose a mate,
and of course with this must come the territory.
The Vicar’s concentration’s broken ‘til the action did abate,
with peace returning to his little arboury. 

But still his mind was delving poorly for what subject he must choose,
‘til another quirk of nature faced the Vicar.
A small and dainty little Blue Wren bought thinking for the pews, 
fighting with its own reflection on his car.

Even though the Wren was warring with the rival that is him,
what is behind the madness struck a chord.
And compare this to our hateful world where all is looking grim,
‘forgive your enemies’ should strongly be implored.  

It is with the fire and brimstone that the Vicar chose to preach,
denigrating all the roads that lead to hell,
but in this wisely chosen sermon his finale was to teach, 
forgiveness must be in our hearts as well.

“Who here today” the Vicar thundered, “Have forgave their enemies?”
And to his flock his questionnaire is brief,
but to the Vicar there’s a problem for not everyone agrees.  
Only seven hands rose up to this belief. 

The Vicar from his pulpit glared around the bowing flock;
in threatening tone repeated his attack, 
and by the looks of it he shamed them for they all had taken stock;
the exception - Mrs. Bruton down the back. 

Vicar Tynan’s voice is calmer on approaching down the aisle;
spoken with assurance that might sway … 
“Mrs Bruton” asked the Vicar clasping hands and with a smile,
“You won’t forgive your enemies you say?” 

Mrs. Bruton smiling sweetly shuffled first then touched her hair,
“I have not got one enemy,” she said.
The Vicar’s eyes they sparkled and then smiling at her there,
began asking Mrs. Bruton’s line instead.

“It is unusual Mrs. Bruton, that your enemies are none.
Will you tell us all how old that you may be?”
The Vicar waiting eagerly; heard charming Mrs. Bruton stun …   
“Vicar Tynan - I have turned ninety three”.

The Vicar’s voice rose in crescendo with the statement he just heard,
to praise blessing on the lesson that unfurled.
“Mrs. Bruton, please come to the front, so we can hear your word,
why there is not a foe here in your world”. 

With a walking stick she tottered; Mrs. Bruton down the aisle,
and prior to speaking anxiously she twitches.
Mrs. Bruton at first stammered then she gave a beaming smile -
“It so happens that I outlived all the es!”
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