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.