Bell, Book & Candle

The Church in its awesome majesty

Looked down, from over the hill,

From faith, to hope, to travesty

It stood, and is standing still,

So proud in its fine regalia

Its ritual, and never the least,

Its potent God who would wield his rod

Deter the jaws of the beast.

 

The Bishop of Saint Ignatius Church

Was a proud and holy man,

Who wouldn’t suffer the jibes of fools

From Rome to Afghanistan,

And certainly not those down the hill

In the new Masonic Lodge,

That beastly, secret doctrine that

He advised his flock to dodge.

 

He’d stand at the steps of his church and stare

Down at the barbarians,

He hated Lodges, he hated Mosques

And Rastafarians,

‘There shouldn’t be anyone else but me,

I hold the eternal God,

What gods they worship could never be,

For they’re all distinctly odd.’

 

While down at the Lodge of the Masons

They were cool with their golden rule,

They had to believe in a god as such,

But how, it was up to you.

For some would practice the Baptist faith,

And some Presbyterian,

While some enrolled in the Primitive state

Were a type of Wesleyan.

 

There was only a single Catholic

And he wore a glued on rug,

He wanted to still be young at heart,

Was known as the Grand HumBug,

The Antidiluvian Mason’s Guild

Was the name he’d chosen himself,

The others differed, but he was keen,

And he was the one with wealth.

 

Their God was known as the Architect,

They carried the masons tools,

The set square set them apart from all

The disbelievers and fools.

They worked on their secret rituals

And kept a goat at the back,

For leading a blindfold novice in

And guarding the Lodge from attack.

 

The Bishop heard that a Catholic

Was leading the Masons there,

He fumed, choked on his rhetoric, but

Was heard to firmly declare,

‘I will not shelter a wayward sheep

Who has taken to ways I hate,

The only fate for a traitor here

Is to excommunicate!’

 

He gathered a dozen priests to march

With candles, down to the Hall,

Surrounded the base heretic’s Lodge

And named HumBug in his call,

Sprinkled his holy water ‘til

It fizzed, and gave off a smell,

Doused his candle and closed his book,

Consigning the man to Hell!

 

But Humbug patted his glued on rug

Went out, untethered the goat,

He let it loose on the dozen Priests,

It butted the Bishop’s coat,

They ran in confusion up the street,

To the church, set up on the hill,

While the goat was hard at the Bishop’s heels

Like a demon released from Hell.

 

It butted the Bishop’s altar and

It charged, knocked over the font,

Scattered the pews for the devil’s dues

In a hellfire sacrament,

While HumBug muttered he might end up

In Hell, with his Mason’s sect,

But the Bishop’s God, had failed with his rod

In a clash with his Architect!

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Barbz]

We are born as innocents, incorporate and bare, our bodies and our minds are pure when hate and wrath appear. Then Faith becomes the enemy, with rules that seal our fate, and steal our sense, humanity, replacing it with hate. Who did who, and what did what that put devils on guard, their ways won't mend. And in the end, they'll know who is their God! Master D,L, Paget, whenever you are read, alive with rhyme and time, I ponder how you do it, your gift is quite sublime .......Barbz

[Valentine]

My husband was a Mason, I have his ring and books but have not looked at them.. I always thought they were not right with God but my honey could quote passages from the Bible better than I. I vowed not to take sides in this squabble..Kathie

[Avinash]

God is precisely an invention of human mind. If the man could live within his means happily and without fear, there could be no room for gods in our lives. However in front of a goat the huge castle of God could not stand. In this God Vs Goat tale and the goat is the convincing winner.

[The Twin Arenas]

Yeah, I don't know how you do this. You're prolific, and it's always these sprawling things. Do you do anything else? Like, I mean, do you paint or play music or anything? What's the story, man? To have a well like yours. Pretty neat.

[Marie]

I like to think of God as the Supreme Architect; I believe the Masons had something there.

I supppose the Bihsop was trying some sort of exorcism, but goats come from the Left Hand and cannot be stopped so easily.

[R Smith]

it may be serious David but its also got a very funny side with a great serving of slapstick humour, love that goat i think you had a mischievous glint in your eye on this one :)

[MomzillaNC]

More fools and their dogma… A very pointed commentary on those who would slave us all to dogma and lose God in the process.

[Gee]

Brilliant.Now that's rhyming verse.Puts my efforts to shame.