The Reluctant Visitor

Sometimes one can be too honest.

 

The Reverend Peter Porter Guys

Was a gentle man with anaemic eyes,

Pale blue, that watered wherever he went

From Epiphany, to the fasting of Lent.

 

He walked the villages of his flock

From door to door, from knock to knock,

And always he mentioned the Organ Fund

To the full of life, and the moribund.

 

He went from house to house with glee

Consuming hundreds of cups of tea,

And never noticed - and there's the rub,

That 'hubby' had gone to hide at the pub.

 

The ladies listened with wringing hands

To the trials of Job and the Lord's commands,

And simpered long in the hopes that he

Could give them a personal 'Heaven' key.

 

Forgive their sins, both now and then

Put in a word with the Lord for them,

Perhaps forgive them a future sin

Or two or three - like a lottery win!

 

His eyes then watered, the Reverend Guys

He gave no specials, he told no lies,

The road was narrow, the road was straight

With no back alleys to Heaven's Gate.

 

One day he went to visit the Dunns

They hadn't been to his service once,

Just newly moved from a house in town

They'd come to the country, settled down.

 

Now Peggy Dunn, she wanted to fit

With the country types of Nether Stitt,

She'd sworn to please, so she asked him in

And they sat in her bright solarium.

 

His eyes, they watered in there the most

As he talked of the passing Holy Ghost,

While Peggy shuddered and looked askance

At the pot containing her cannabis plant.

 

Her husband Don was an atheist,

Who didn't believe that gods exist,

'We all came down from a worm,' he said,

'That turned to a monkey; then we bred!'

 

His wife was more of a nervous type

Who covered her bets 'til the time was ripe,

'What if he's up there, watching you?

Just keep your voice down, finish your stew!'

 

So Don had gone out the door at back

As the Vicar came in, a frontal attack,

He hid in the space between the trees

And cursed as the nettles stung his knees.

 

While Peggy went out to make the tea

The vicar, quite absent-mindedly

Picked off some buds from the cannabis plant

And chewed on them as a ruminant.

 

The tea was served in her Doulton fine

And the roses seemed to glow like wine,

'Such beautiful cups,' said a voice in his head,

'Left over from grandma's estate,' she said.

 

He looked up startled, could she see in

To the place where the voice spoke only to him?

The room was suddenly silent then,

As the minutes ticked, and the hours began.

 

He said, 'well maybe I'd better go...'

'Oh must you?' Then he had answered, 'No!'

He didn't have anywhere else to be,

And telling a lie was a sin, you see.

 

He settled back in his easy seat

Looked out of the window, drank his tea

Then something caught at his feeble stare,

'There's a man in the bushes, look! Out there!'

 

'Oh, that's just Don,' said Peggy Dunn

And glared at her husband to come on in,

He came, but not in the best of moods,

In fact, to the vicar, he was rude.

 

'Hi Rev, get out of the wrong side bed?

Your collar's on back to front,' he said,

Then laughed, but the Reverend Peter Guys

Just sat and stared, and watered his eyes.

 

'Hey Peg, the Reverend needs a feed,

I hope you've asked him to stay to tea!'

What Peg had whispered I won't repeat,

But she said aloud, 'Oh vicar, please!'

 

'Of course,' he mumbled, the room it spun,

He couldn't have stood for the Holy One,

Then Don had brought in a cookie plate,

'Get into them, Rev, before it's too late!'

 

They both ate cookies, and washed them down

With another cuppa in Royal Crown,

But Peggy had glared at Don, aghast,

The cookies were solidly filled with hash.

 

By eight o'clock on that very night

The Vicar staggered up out of his seat,

'Maybe you'd like to watch TV?'

Don had roared, and the Rev. agreed.

 

'I would, I would, but I really just....'

'Sit in my chair? Oh please, you must!'

So Reverend Guys in utter despair

Had found himself in a smelly chair;

 

With cats' hair over each arm, he sat

And waited his chance like a cornered rat,

When Don, his sarcasm running to math

Said, 'wouldn't you like a shower, or a bath?'

 

Yes, he would, it was true, he cried

He felt unclean, since the cat had died

And left its fur on its master's chair

Who knew what disease was lurking there?

 

He staggered off like an old, old man

With Peggy holding his trembling hand,

She gave him a towel and a bar of soap

But what he would like was a length of rope.

 

The bathroom window was way too small

If he got outside he was bound to fall,

But given some rope and by using stealth

At least he could try to hang himself.

 

He came out dripping, and wearing a robe

Of Don's, the colour of heliotrope,

'You look like you're ready to sleep,' he said,

'Is there any good reason you can't take my bed?'

 

The vicar replied a despairing 'No!'

He still couldn't lie - Please ask him to go!

But Don wasn't finished, his sarcasm rife,

'Have you any objections to sleep with my wife?'

 

The vicar lay snuggled right up to his chin

With a naked Peggy right next to him,

She figured that Don brought it all on himself...

(If he gave her a score out of ten - might as well!)

 

The Reverend hasn't been spotted of late,

It took him a week there to plan his escape,

He never drinks tea, and will visit no-one

Since causing the split between Peggy and Don.

 

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[Norma J. Jessee]

My friend, I think you have just proven an old adage
to be wrong !!!!!!! I think it was " John Clarke ( Paroemiologia )
that said, " Too much honesty never harmed a man. "

I laughed so hard tears flowed freely. Laughing and crying
at the same time is another great feat you have accomplished.
I love your sense of humor.

Sorry I have taken so long to get here.

[Debra Stevens Edwards (..]

This was such a strange story I was not sure If the Rev. would die at Dons hand. Instead the Rev. learned from his mistake. With a greater knowledge he did escape. Never to make those calls again. I guess some would say it was a win , win. Great write once again.
Hugs Debby

[Valentine]

Where in the world do you come up with all of these tales..You are a master story teller..I have never enjoyed someones funny tales as I do your..Real wit, funny lines and a great ending..I am still laughing..God bless...glad I do not drink tea Valentine

[Ellen Hammond]

Absolutely priceless!!! You have a wonderful gift for stories telling in rhyme. I really enjoyed reading this. Love your sense of humor too.

[holly]

Clever, clever write - and so readable! Great story as well. Thank you for posting it.

[Seantesunflower]

ROFLOL
MY eyes were watering because I was laughing so hard!
What a great write!

[Poeticpiers]

Pastoral duties can be a heavy burden for a innocent man of god to bear.