The Temperance Meeting
Posted: Wed Jun 15, 2016 7:37 am
THE TEMPERANCE MEETING
The local temp'rance group in town sought out a special guest.
Someone to sell the sentiment, sobriety is best.
The second Tuesday of the month saw all the faithful come,
to hear the local Vicar's talk - Stand Firm! Do Not Succumb!
He brought to bear how demon grog was one of Satan's snares,
then pounding on the podium, sold home the pow'r of prayers.
"And you, Mugs Murphy, sitting there, you're at the pub each day.
You leave it mostly three parts full. What have you got to say?"
"I'm guilty,Vicar, that's the truth, but I've a reason though
you see I'm always three parts sloshed, 'cause I run out of dough."
"And what of you, Dan Rafferty, you son of Beelzebub,
You're just a constipated drunk, who cannot pass a pub."
"I know I have a problem Vic', for it's true what you say,
but now my doctor's clued me up, I'm back to one a day."
"You stretch the truth Dan Rafferty, you'd have us all misled,
for everybody knows in fact, you're seven years ahead."
'Twas then some stranger staggered in and in a drunken slur,
asked, "Could you tell me where I am, your Holy Rev'rence sir?"
"My son you're at the Temp'rance hall, down town on Pratt and Brown."
"Forget the details, Rev'rendness, spit out the flam'in town."
The Vicar cried, "Sir, ten percent of accidents are caused,
by drunken fools like you my friend!" Then caught a breath and paused.
"You mean to say," the drunk slurred back, "the other ninety then,
are down to all teetotallers? I rest my case. Amen!"
To keep his countenance intact, the Vicar somewhat phased,
then turned to Michael Finnigan and cried, "The Lord be praised!"
For here's a man who's fought the grog, what made you do it Mick?"
"I saw the light and did it for the wife and kidneys Vic'."
"And shame on you there Dan O'Brien, you guzzle down the stuff,
you'd think the way your right hand shakes you'd know you'd drunk enough."
'But Vicar, true, as I sit here, it's not quite like you think.
You see me hand it shakes that much, I spill more than I drink."
"I've not forgotten you Tom Flynn, for word has got around,
you've brought yourself a new houseboat, but drunk, ran it aground."
'Twas just a christ'ning drink," said Flynn, "to give the boat a name.
'Cirrhosis of the River', Vic, but true grog was the blame."
In summing up the Vicar's voice then cut just like a knife.
"It is a fact as you all know; I've lived here all my life,
and though this town has forty pubs, I honestly can say,
I've never been in one of them right up to this 'ere day."
The boys had listened long enough to all his ballyhoo,
for Rafferty, O'Brien and Flynn along with Murphy too,
had grown up in the town as well and voiced from where they sat.
"Your statement Vicar’s dead set right, but just which pub is that?"
Often the inspiration for poems is an old yarn that has taken your fancy and you proceed with the challenge to turn it into verse. Then I thought why not do the same with a collection of one liners on a particular subject.
©Merv Webster
From the book Excuse Me! It's the Gidyea
The local temp'rance group in town sought out a special guest.
Someone to sell the sentiment, sobriety is best.
The second Tuesday of the month saw all the faithful come,
to hear the local Vicar's talk - Stand Firm! Do Not Succumb!
He brought to bear how demon grog was one of Satan's snares,
then pounding on the podium, sold home the pow'r of prayers.
"And you, Mugs Murphy, sitting there, you're at the pub each day.
You leave it mostly three parts full. What have you got to say?"
"I'm guilty,Vicar, that's the truth, but I've a reason though
you see I'm always three parts sloshed, 'cause I run out of dough."
"And what of you, Dan Rafferty, you son of Beelzebub,
You're just a constipated drunk, who cannot pass a pub."
"I know I have a problem Vic', for it's true what you say,
but now my doctor's clued me up, I'm back to one a day."
"You stretch the truth Dan Rafferty, you'd have us all misled,
for everybody knows in fact, you're seven years ahead."
'Twas then some stranger staggered in and in a drunken slur,
asked, "Could you tell me where I am, your Holy Rev'rence sir?"
"My son you're at the Temp'rance hall, down town on Pratt and Brown."
"Forget the details, Rev'rendness, spit out the flam'in town."
The Vicar cried, "Sir, ten percent of accidents are caused,
by drunken fools like you my friend!" Then caught a breath and paused.
"You mean to say," the drunk slurred back, "the other ninety then,
are down to all teetotallers? I rest my case. Amen!"
To keep his countenance intact, the Vicar somewhat phased,
then turned to Michael Finnigan and cried, "The Lord be praised!"
For here's a man who's fought the grog, what made you do it Mick?"
"I saw the light and did it for the wife and kidneys Vic'."
"And shame on you there Dan O'Brien, you guzzle down the stuff,
you'd think the way your right hand shakes you'd know you'd drunk enough."
'But Vicar, true, as I sit here, it's not quite like you think.
You see me hand it shakes that much, I spill more than I drink."
"I've not forgotten you Tom Flynn, for word has got around,
you've brought yourself a new houseboat, but drunk, ran it aground."
'Twas just a christ'ning drink," said Flynn, "to give the boat a name.
'Cirrhosis of the River', Vic, but true grog was the blame."
In summing up the Vicar's voice then cut just like a knife.
"It is a fact as you all know; I've lived here all my life,
and though this town has forty pubs, I honestly can say,
I've never been in one of them right up to this 'ere day."
The boys had listened long enough to all his ballyhoo,
for Rafferty, O'Brien and Flynn along with Murphy too,
had grown up in the town as well and voiced from where they sat.
"Your statement Vicar’s dead set right, but just which pub is that?"
Often the inspiration for poems is an old yarn that has taken your fancy and you proceed with the challenge to turn it into verse. Then I thought why not do the same with a collection of one liners on a particular subject.
©Merv Webster
From the book Excuse Me! It's the Gidyea