A monsignor from 'la belle France'
Split the Scriptures into chapters,by chance,
A colleague in fair Erin's isle
Introduced verse,within a short while-
Take care,. quotes can mislead,by a mile.
Mary Six Pack Pistols staggers through time portals drunk
Pretending to be a priest but she is not a mister or a sister
To the old west saloon through double doors she glides
Drunker than a nun on steroids swinging rosaries from her side
Into a smoke filled room in rusty spurs and fake mustache
Presenting herself as a monsignor from another time and place
Cowboy boots caked in mud with love she blesses them
Introducing her two guns from underneath a long black dress
It is a curtain, a robe, a nun inside a habit for blasting baddies
There must be a shower outside which indicates a storm
The spittoon in the corner of the room needs emptying
She feels the weight of outlaws in her midst
From here to there the crowd looks innocent
But Padre knows better so shoots them all to death
To kingdom come and back again through the chest
Through time corridors we suspect they must be dust
Mary Six Pack says a prayer and drinks some holy water
From a whiskey bottle in another time dimension soaking wet
Then returns from there to here less sober and less blessed
Charged with a misdemeanor for impersonating a monsignor
Madam pestilence
Mister insolence
Captain violence
Doctor indolence
Monsignor forgiveness
Oh, goodness, how my initiative has flustered.
I think that my meatless Fridays will receive fruits of reward and hence I grow faint.
I sigh through dear retirement of a beloved pastor.
Alas, I never learned the likeness of his mother,
containing ignorance of queries, I may have dared.
Oh,goodness, how my initiative has flustered.
Why,I adorned my scent in generous coriander masking,
I learned that afterwards for months his body actively ailed.
I sigh through dear retirement of a beloved pastor.
What irresponsibility to not attend his masses of distance radius concluding a ten-minute bus ride,
within the retrospect I carried a pedestrian distance strength.
Oh,goodness, how my initiative has flustered.
Through instances my mobile telephone illuminates unknown numbers,
in filled enthusiasm "Hello, monsignor" I declare.
I sigh through dear retirement of a beloved pastor.
In his missing funds for rejuvenated miscrospoic cellular architecture of the cataracts,
my endeavor to contact him results in abandoned snail and over weekly electronic mail.
Oh, goodness, how my initiative has flustered.
I sigh through dear retirement of a beloved pastor.
When we were young we went to the fair
With our brothers and our sisters
We tilted on the Tilt-a-Whirl
And we twisted on the Twisters
We bulleted on the Bullet
And quite dizzy we would feel
But my stomach always turned and turned
When I rode that Ferris Wheel
We'd go to get some eats
Some pizza or spare ribs
They were always so darn good
We'd go back for second dibs
Candy apples with coconut
Were always fun to eat
And so was cotton candy
But they both were very sweet
We played the fifty-fifty
And we raffled for the car
We drank beer under the tents
And we ate clams at the bar
The spinning wheels were fun to play
But they were hard to win
Victor the bear was tough to wrestle
But someone beat him with a pin
Monsignor Wilus ran the show
And he was usually there
So thanks to him He brought us all
The good ole Iselin fair
Monsignor Father Saez is mission priest,
and he's confessor priest to brothers both.
His mission's high on rise and faces east,
none better ever made his sacred oath.
For life man gave himself to bride betroth,
and combination fine put souls at ease.
Assigned to other mission priest would loath.
Such opportune chance he would never seize.
Now Jose, Dona Rose have daughter grown,
her name is Margarita May Elaine.
Skin's white, lips ruby, tresses ebon tone.
To know fair maid is pleasure great to gain.
In chapel's nave all eyes on her do strain.
With Margarita's Jose, Dona Rose.
All take Mass late in nave this day with rain,
because of rain, soon chapel doors will close
Silent and puzzled, even when a little boy,
I remember the monsignor after every Sunday sermon
have us pray for peace,
as contending against war;
a peace that rarely came or lasted
prayers that were rarely answered.
She had a stroke six weeks before
and slept downstairs
'So they could keep an eye on her
- my lovely grandmother, Elizabeth.
I would whisper
'Granny, are you alright?'
and be shushed out of the room.
On December 12th, 1961
she was dying. They knelt around the bed
and said the Rosary.
May and Lizzie, their husbands and children,
cousins and neighbours, droning their prayers.
As she struggled to breathe: loud then slow and slowing,
the candle flickered shadows on the wall.
Sad faces, some old and lined, anticipating
the arrival of the Monsignor - to give her Unction.
They hoped that she would live until he arrived.
'She had a good life - a long life' they said
'Eighty-Seven years'.
'But some people live to be a hundred!'
my thirteen year old self shouted back -
My mother and the nurse laid her out
on her big mahogany bed.
'The ritual gave me comfort'
Mam said later -
Best linens, starched and waiting
for this time - her habit - a dress especially made for death
Beads entwined in her dear fingers.
These preparations a ceremony of love and care
I wouldn't, couldn't look at her
They did -
I hated them for that.
A monsignor from 'la belle France'
Split the Scriptures into chapters,by chance,
A colleague in fair Erin's isle
Introduced verse,within a short while-
Take care,when said.. quotes can mislead,by a mile.
She was a beauty
unlike any other.
Every Saturday morning
like clockwork
she would visit with him,
letting him know
her business,
how she felt.
He would offer
his advice
as well as
offer her an ear.
He wanted more,
but he could not.
He knew
if he had even tried
he would have
lost it all
sacrificing everything
he worked so hard for.
He fell in love
with her,
but still held
one in love before her
sacrificing
physical love,
passion
that he dreamed of.
He was saddened
by his decision,
but yet happy
by his choice.
The monsignor
came from
the confessional
then said goodbye
to the many parishioners
while keeping
his eyes
on her.