Murphy and Clancy were walking along
When Murphy stopped and said
'Hold on a second, Clancy!
There's a Catholic church ahead!
I'll nip in and get absolution,
As I, quite often, do
Whenever I have sins to confess.
And I have quite a few.
The Priest knew Murphy very well
And he knew his dissolute life.
'Aha!' said the Priest, 'It's Murphy,
Who's been unfaithful to his wife!
Who is it this time, Murphy?
Who has been your partner in crime?
For that has been your problem
Every other time.'
'That I can't tell you, Father'
Said Murphy 'As you know well
I've never been the sort of man
Inclined to kiss and tell!'
'Is it Mary Smith from Kilkenny?'
Asked the Priest.' I want to know.
Or Alice Brown from the High Street?
Murphy answered 'No'.
'Well then' said the Priest
'I'm sure it's Peg Smith from The Hill.'
'I'll never disclose a lady's name'
Said Murphy 'I never will.'
The Priest gave absolution
Saying 'Go now, sin no more'.
So Murphy left the confessional,
Meeting Clancy at the door.
'How did you fare?' asked Clancy;
'Are you cleansed of your misdeeds?'
Said Murphy 'I got what I went for....
Some really terrific leads!'
*
-----------------------------------------------------
THE DEMISE OF A WORD
"In the merry month of May
Everyone is very gay."
*
The young, who read the final word,
Think that's patently absurd.
The whole world homosexual? No!
Though you may think I'm saying so.
'Odd?' they say, 'That makes no sense!'
So I must say in my own defence
That there was a time when I was young,
When the word 'gay' was freely sung,
Spoken, rhymed about and read,
And no-one ever turned a head.
*
Before I continue, let me state,
That I'm not hung-up about your mate.
Same-sex marriages? Quite O.K.
But why did you steal that nice word 'gay'?
*
'Gay' was one of the sweetest words.
One applied it to the singing birds,
Chorusing gaily at rising sun,
Bringing joy to everyone.
'Gay' was the adjective of choice
When one described a happy voice.
'Gay' meant freedom, sweetness, light,
'Gay' meant light-hearted, pure delight.
*
Not only that but here am I
Raising a typical poet's cry...
'Gay' rhymed so well with everything!
No need for any pondering.
Bay and clay and day and fay,
Grey and hay and jay and lay,
May and nay and pay and say,
Stay and play and sway and bray.
Not to mention words like roundelay,
Holiday and cabaret.
*
Now we've said farewell to May
And I mourn the loss of that sweet word 'gay'.
*
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