An elderly priest
sits on the dilapidated
stair to his hovel
Contemplating once again
the stinger he delivered
in his Sunday sermon.
An attempt to strike a note
of serious consideration of
the consequences
of sinning to his
congregation.
And yet, as he leans with
his gnarled hands upon his
walking stick,
He can not help but
smile at the wicked joy
he witnesses as a
Drunken Santa Claus and
a skimpily clad **********
weave their way past
him down the
cobbled lane.
Oct 1, 2011
Oct 1, 2011 at 12:05 PM UTC
An elderly priest
sits on the dilapidated
stair to his hovel
Contemplating once again
the stinger he delivered
in his Sunday sermon.
An attempt to strike a note
of serious consideration of
the consequences
of sinning to his
congregation.
And yet, as he leans with
his gnarled hands upon his
walking stick,
He can not help but
smile at the wicked joy
he witnesses as a
Drunken Santa Claus and
a skimpily clad **********
weave their way past
him down the
cobbled lane.
Words given: Stinger. Santa Claus. ********** Priest. Gnarled. Delapidated.
Thank you, Sir Frank. :)
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