Sergeant-at-Arms

The stocks now for him!

Our patience grows dim
His rant in the streets can’t go on
He reads from the Psalms
And comments on John
His crude sermonettes are so wrong.
Enough of kind tact
It’s time now to act
A public disgrace is the cure.
In hot mid-day sun
The folks need their fun
They’ll bring rotten fruit
That’s for sure.
He must heed the form
The Holy Day norm
And come to the Church
Properly.
But out in the square
In mid-week fresh air
He’s proving a queer oddity!
I’m charged with the peace
His voice now must cease
The rod will be painful
And grim.
Lord knows, I’ve been fair
He seems not to care.
And so, troops,
The stocks now for him!
Note: In a strange sort of way Anthony and Doug wrote this piece together. Deeply personal. Wondrous memento. Surprising. Forged in the fires.
Psalm 107: 2
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