Tuesday, September 20, 2011


A priest once had a gargoyled garden
In which he used to walk and pray.
One day a servant begged his pardon,
“A woman waits in much dismay,”
He said.  The priest, a great magician,
Replied, allowing her admission.
Received, he asked what he could do.
“Please put my son here in situ.
Watched over by your statuary.”
“But why,” he asked?  “My son’s a pol.
With his election we will fall.
He helps the world’s Great Adversary.”
But no gargoyle, however hard,
Would stand a politician’s guard.

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