Gail Foster Poet Limerick

The Army Chaplain

Tooled up, the army chaplain
Is wielding the words of God
Straight in for the kill
With ‘The work of His will’
And ‘He came not with peace but the rod’

The sixth commandment is tricky
A most inconvenient law
For the turn of a cheek
On the battle field bleak
Is far from conducive to war

So, pity the army chaplain
And the conflict that rages within
As the ranks of the dead
Tramp a march through his head
And he murders his conscience with gin

by Gail

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Warren Dickman May 22, 2016 at 3:13 PM Don't you just love the hypocrisy of it all? Army Chaplain: an oxymoron if there ever was one. Great write, Gail. Gail Foster May 24, 2016 at 10:12 AM Thank you very much for reading and commenting, Warren. A strange sort of job indeed, and not one for the fainthearted.