But For a Novice
From mischeif plain and simple
She knew that she would go to hell
Despite her winning dimple
She knew the pastor far too well
- He'd seen beneath her wimple
And spied the curly hair below
She barely had her first pimple
Across the town, the bell was heard
Its peal was crisp and clear
The mayor thought it quite absurd
That far could sound so near
To all his men, he sent out word
To find an engineer
Who specialised in bell-repair
But none of them could hear
The clangour rose to Heaven's gate
Disturbing feath'ry angels
'Twas clear that young Matilda's fate
Would be as bad a Nigel's
St Peter looked up from his slate
Nearly knockin' a stack of Bibles
He looked inside Matilda's soul
And found the claims weren't libels
So heed this lesson, children mine
If e'er you ponder ringing
Be sure your motives are divine
And only virtue brining
For mischief is Old Nick's design
He craves your evil clanging
The impish misanthrope ye be
Will win a long haranguing
| Contributors: | Canon Golightly, snood, P, Beefy, archaeopteryx, N, Kansas Sam, F, sp. |
| Poem finished: | 23rd August 2003. |