The Improbable Perfections of the Parson’s Pets

The Parson’s cat is a continent cat,
His mouse is meek and monastic,
The Parson’s snake loves the celibate life
And his fox agrees it’s fantastic.
The Parson’s chickens grow chaster and chaster,
All passion and ardour abandoned,
But the Parson himself is a wicked old waster,
Who has wantonly wooed and philandered.

The Parson’s cat drinks camomile tea,
His lynx likes iced lemonade,
The Parson’s toad is strictly TT,
His Chihuahua loves chilled cherryade.
The Parson makes tea for his hippo and rhino,
(They like strong Yorkshire tea that’s well brewed),
But the Parson himself is a wicked old wino,
Perpetually stoned, sloshed and stewed!

The Parson’s cat is a clerical cat,
The Parson’s dog is divine,
The Parson’s bat is a biblical bat,
The Parson’s hog is sublime,
The Parson’s goldfish is godlier than God,
His piranha is pious as well,
But the Parson himself is a wicked old sod,
Who is probably going to hell!

Annie Fisher

If you have any comments on this poem, Annie Fisher  would be pleased to hear them.