Friar Poems - Poems about Friar

In the abbey lived Friar McFunk, Who pounded piano while drunk, But to pay for his rye, Was caught robbing the tythe, Now they call him Felonious Monk....

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Hallowed earthly spot Friar's most sacred domain Soulful presence felt Impossible to ignore Spiritual implication Seeps into every fiber Ancient Friary One continuous prayer Petitions in wind Like whisper on subtle breeze Rustling over silent grave Empathic comprehension. Image by Falco Pixabay...

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There once was a friar respectable All thought of him purely impeccable He took grape from the vine then fermented strong wine And now he is more than deprecable...

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The friar’s light, a deceiving light, my nightmares deluding my mind crossing the misty moors at night. The friar’s light, a deceiving light. Howling hounds affright – bite! They bite! My eyes wide open but I’m blind! The friar’s light, a deceiving light, my nightmares deluding my mind....

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Avoirdupois The endomorph enjoys our affection as the comic figure of tradition. Friar Tuck, Falstaff, and Old Toby recall rotund revels and ribaldry. Devils are always portrayed as thin. the clown invariably has a double chin. Unlike the hero, who's always victorious, his wind and walk are somewhat laborious. Though he's never very heroic, who honestly ever loved a stoic? Confronted by his conviviality cynics think rather...

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In a prison cell I dwell most every day And for a miracle I pray: Gods of time, Lords of reason Defy yourselves and commit treason My years are many The baggage of my past is heavy Disregard what`s in me evil, don’t deny me merit, Else heaven I am sure not to inherit The dam of my moral will is...

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Continuation With ghouls, unlearned, no stone’s unturned to burnish blame with Nun’s proud name        and leave the midnight sky... scarred. They raise their hats to copy cats        in FRiar Small-Bro’s grave...yard. While rumours spread amongst the dead, Nun stays the pace with saving grace,        and phantoms keep their face...marred. The maggot digs neath twisted twigs        in FRiar Small-Bro’s grave...yard. In tempests...

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The midnight clings to dwarfish kings while robot drones, adorning thrones,        kneel, bowing to the Old...Guard. Arrhythmic clocks and wooden box        grace FRiar Small-Bro’s grave...yard. The diplohacks, like melting wax, have swept along the clueless throng,        some dying for a life...guard. And Nun, alone, has beached their bones        in FRiar Small-Bro’s grave...yard. Beyond the streams, a raven screams at loser fish...

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The friar Revered innocence You’ve got to try it put it on your lap a smiling little thing still sheer and brittle if possible blind or deaf, almost...

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Can’t do right, I try so hard with might, The smallest things I mess up or fail. Why can’t I seem to overcome, learn, succeed and do ? Is there weakness, a fault , not enabling me through ? I’m expected to be good and just. Others so this desire, Help Friar !...

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