Saturday 24 September 2011

Lay Grouter, This Fist Then


But then you escaped? The preacher’s wife asked
I escaped, answered he, with some fright
And the most I have seen of a bright Thirstday sun
Is all that remains of this light

You have come to the light! She declared with a squeal
Oh Allegory Wise! Did she wail
Oh Metaphor be praised! For she lived a good life
Where reason would never prevail

My fine, bright, poor boy you must come fast within
She coughed to improve on her clarity
And you shall be washed in the Masters good grace
And I shall be washed in my charity

For you have been beastly, and dirty and foul
But trust in my worthy theocracy
And you shall be brought to the Three Blessed Parts
Of Allegory, Metaphor and Hypocrisy

She took him within and she drew him a bath
And she washed him with flannel and spite
And his rags did she burn on the fire of her faith
A fire set to burn all the night

And she stood and she prayed for the sinner returned
To his entrance to her Master’s good lands
But Grouter was dirty not just in his hide
And Grouter had quick little hands

The preacher’s wife opened her eyes with a snap
As she felt the hard hands on her breast
And she demanded to know what our Grouter quite thought
Of his claws planted high on her chest

And what, she enquired, in a shocked little voice
In a voice swiftly sharp, and then curt
Did a young man intend when he sought hard to find
The intent that might lie in her skirt?

Young Grouter was trembling but still he did say
That he planned to set out his snare
For his youth it was spring and a rabbit he sought
And if not a rabbit - then a hair.

And the Preacher’s Wife trembled with shock as she felt
A feeling unfelt in her nethers
And her thoughts turned to thoughts she kept to herself
Of fine oiled leather and feathers

And she took up a switch that was kept by the door
And she groaned as she beat on her thrall
But Grouter did shout and run from her hand
For beating was not it at all!

In a frenzy she whipped, and she swiped and she switched
Her desires unleashed and uncouth
But Grouter in terror he fled from her needs
Out the window and on to the roof.

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