Short Parson Poems
Short Parson Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Parson by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Parson by length and keyword.
Parson Whose Sermon Cotained Arson
Should have heard sermon from the parson;
Would be hot and set you on fire like arson;
Could make you laugh as if Johnny Carson.
Jim Horn
It's not her style to walk down the aisle.
Father and parson its sure to rile.
But all of the people
down under the steeple
will smile at her elegant abseil.
*Abseil - rappel down a rope
From his pulpit the parson railed 'gainst booze
For some in his pews this wasn't good news
For so many, you see
Bootlegged on the qui vive
They all harmonized in singing the blues
A venerable parson of Hauxwell
of whom men would say that he talks well.
While some ladies did swoon
and went over the moon,
gossiping together how he looks swell.
Another for our local collection.
Once there was a parson named Ezra Heap
Whose Sunday sermons were profoundly deep
The louder Ezra implored
The more his congregants snored
He could never arouse them from their sleep
There was once an old parson named Guy Flynn,
Who ranted about the wages of sin.
He scared the hell outta me,
Makin' me fall on my knee,
Forswearin' my profanity and gin!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Pete's parson preached when you're dumped in the grave
You can't take those things with you that you crave
But afraid to take a chance
Pete arranged far in advance
For U-Hauls in case he could cop a waive
The parson's parrot was a sinful bird,
Known for squawking many a naughty word!
Said parson, "Let's make a pact;
Here and now clean up your act!"
Squawked bird, "Those very words from you I heard!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
She said she would love me,
Be faithful, come what may,
In front of the parson
On that warm summer’s day
But now she has left me;
Our love’s just history.
With no explanation,
Why is a mystery
Sponsor - Nette Onclaud
Some kind of Mystery contest
11th January 2026
DIDACTIC
I’m not talkin’ ta churchy people
Those residin’ ‘neath a steeple
My message concerns you sinners
A usin’ steroids ta be winners
Those who on Sunday play football
Those who neglect ta hear tha ‘call’
“On the Seventh Day He Rested”
Know that those who do are Blessed
Besides church saves me countin’ sheep
Parson always puts ma butt ta sleep
The Woman gave him meaningful look
But he buried his face in a book
There was I with one other person
“A Fine Wench and he is acting A Parson!”
A Nice Woman asking for Thoughtful Mind
And The One before her rather behind!
Should she go back for a colorful dress?
What if it still yields ‘His Suffering Yes?
A man she wants to show Eventful Life
And he’s begun to stab it with sharp knife...
Maybe on him a bucketful water
And, as apology, bread-and-butter!
HEAR THE SHARPENING O'THA KNIFE
FER SOULS I HARVEST NOW
FAR BEYOND THE FISHING QUAY
WHERE AWAITS ME MONT MORIN
AFORE A CORNISH DAWN
AFORE A CORNISH DAWN YOU ASK
FER HERE I'M BORN AN BRED
AND COME BACK I MUST
EVEN THOU I'M DEAD
THE PAINTED SIGN'S A CLINKING
OUR PARSON HE'S A THINKING
RIDE UPON MY CART OLD DEAR
TIS A FUNERAL IF YER PLEASE
HEAR THE PUPS A SQUEAKING
IN THIS BOX O' DREAMS
NUMBERS RUNES OLD MANS TUNES
HEAR THE SHARPENING O'THA KNIFE!