There once was a man named Stanley McNare
Who loved to go walking, for he had not a care.
In a field of clover he was walking one day,
No brambles, or briars, or withered brown sage.
Yet Stanley was amazed this unusual day
To meet an old fellow, walking his way.
The man’s hair was grey, tattered by time,
He’d lost his vigor, his fervor, and shine.
Stanley greeted the man with a welcoming wave,
But he walked past Stanley as if in a daze.
Stanley turned round and said, “Sir, are you well?”
The man quickly stated, “Oh yes child, I’m swell.”
The man was dressed in a ***** black garb,
His visage was torn, his eyes staring far.
He turned to Stanley and said with dismay,
“What caused you to walk here, this beautiful day?”
Stanley thought long of the question in place,
Looking to the man, with the withered, drawn face
Stanley said, “Sir, I’d say the feel of the sod,
The smell of the flowers, or the long talks with God.”
The old man spit, on a green clover pad
As if Stanley’s answer had made him quite mad.
“Oh Stanley, my boy! Now how can one talk,
With a God that doesn’t speak, or even so much squawk?”
Stanley pondered again, his mind full of thought,
Of things he should say, and things he should not
“Well,” he said, as the old man grinned
“He speaks thru the trees, the bees, and the wind.”
“He lets me know, without ever a word,
That He is still speaking, tho maybe unheard.”
The old man bent over with audible glee
He spoke thru the laughter, “Have mercy on me!”
“Stanley, so foolish, your mind is so slow,
You’ve created a “God”, that’ll you’ll never know!”
Now Stanley was dismayed by the man’s vast pride,
And began to walk away, increasing his stride.
Then he stopped in his tracks, his mind all aflame
He asked the old man, “Who told you my name?”
The old man smiled, his grin full of sin,
“I know more than that, just let me begin.
Stanley so slothful, so jealous, and vain,
You’re one of my favorites! That's how I call you by name.”
“You hide behind crosses, prayer, and The Word,
But I’ll tell you the truth if I’ll be undeterred.”
“You’re unworthy, unholy, and just out hand,
Safe in His palm, like an oyster holds sand.”
Stanley’s hands grew cold and his realized the trick,
He was talking to none other, than the devil, Ol’ Nick.
Stanley was terrified from his head to his feet
Of all the people, he just had to meet
“What do you want, you liar of lies?
You nasty old crow, that fell from the skies!”
Ol’ Nick looked to Stanley, his eyes all aglow
“There are things I must tell you, things you must know.”
“Stanley, I’m old. Far older than earth,
I’ve lost my gladness, my glee, and my mirth.”
“I need a new pigeon, to put in a cage
To anger our “Father”, the Ancient of Days.”
“Job, was a battle that I didn’t win,
I hurled darts of fire, and tempted with sin.”
“But for today I’ll find an easier way
I’ll sow seeds of laziness, mistrust, and dismay.”
“While they sit in the pew and put on their show,
Worshipping a God, they don’t even know.”
“Every Sunday, I’ve seen it, from here, far and wide
I’m winning them over, all on my side.”
Now, Stanley had enough of Ol’ Nick’s  report
And decided he wouldn’t have more of the sort.
“Be gone you old devil, you unwelcome guest,
I’ll hear nothing of pigeons, or devilish tests.”
“I’ll have you know, by the blood of the lamb,
My sin is cleansed fully, by the great I AM.”
Ol’ Nick’s yelped, his visage quite ill
His olden features growing older still.
“Stanley McNare, you foolhardy beast,
Victory I’ll have, and you’ll be the feast.
I’ve dragged cities, empires, and men down below,
What makes you  think that you can make me go?”
With a prayer on his lips, and fire in his eyes
Stanley shouted out this commanding reply:
“By the power of Christ I am made whole
He holds my heart, my body, and even my soul.
Tho my flesh may be weary, so weak, and so frail
I serve the God that never can fail!”
And as if a dream, Stanley stood all alone
No one around him, ‘cept a few stepping stones.
He made his way home, his feet on the sod,
Singing and praising and talking to God.