The preacher and the creature: a hirsute tale
The preacher and the creature
were creeping around the wilds.
The preacher and the creature
were a contrast in styles.
The preacher had a squint;
the creature had a smirk.
The preacher gave out hints;
the creature walked herkyjerk.
They roamed the wilds together,
though rarely arm in arm
for the creature’s hide of leather
could do the preacher harm.
Yet one day he tried a saddle
upon the creature’s back
and with a little paddle
he gave a gentle whack.
Now, let this be a tale of care
for all who go astray:
the preacher had a full head of hair
until that fateful day.
That little whack, it came back
with a much bigger response.
The creature went on the attack
and sent out a fiery launch.
And when the smoke had cleared
upon that faith filled day
the preacher had a beard,
but no hair to comb away.
///
photo by Chris Buice
poem by David E. Booker
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