Last Sunday on route to my church <br />I looked up to the top of a birch, <br />though the tree pure white <br />I could see in the light <br />that a figure was up on a perch. <br /> <br />No it wasn't a feather-clad bird, <br />he was brown like the colour of turd, <br />and one foot had no toes <br />and black snot marked his nose <br />I was stunned, and I give you my word <br /> <br />it was Satan, he aimed his third leg <br />like an ebony, hairy thin peg, <br />at the folks who were keen <br />to be present and seen <br />and receive a fresh dose of nutmeg. <br /> <br />Well, whatever they use with the wine <br />it is God's own command which is fine. <br />All the folks prayed a lot <br />and at home they smoked pot, <br />but on Sundays they did toe the line. <br /> <br />So the Devil had made an attempt <br />to have citizens changed to excempt, <br />that's a status of sin <br />which the Devil would win <br />he could hurl at our God his contempt. <br /> <br />So I stopped and attached a strong rope <br />to the tree and the people got hope, <br />with the power of eight <br />it was wonderful, Mate. <br />No, the bastard could no longer cope. <br /> <br />So the tree fell and people just cheered, <br />but at first it looked strange and appeared <br />that the Devil had hung <br />from the lowermost rung <br />of the heavenly ladder, they feared <br /> <br />that the fall had not killed him at once <br />so the townfolks went home for their guns. <br />But the Devil did die <br />and they said their good-bye <br />not aware that the Devil had sons.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/limerick-practice-2008/
