THAT PREACHER’S KID!

THAT PREACHER’S KID!

If any stereotype’s ripe,

To be broken and flushed down the pipe…

The Pastor’s kid

And what he did,

Ought to be worth a snipe!

“Theological Offspring:

Is the same with a fancier ring…

Expected to shime

Or act divine,

And in Junior Choir sing!

My brother and I were sent

By normal precedent…

To the local parrish

We wouldn’t (dare) embarrass

Our pareents at any event.!

EXCEPT…early for me…

Had an itch so scratched it “monkeY”…

Laughs from the crowd

Rang out loud—

I’d spoiled its dignity.

Let’s not go into the time

They let me read poetry “blind”…

My call to worship

Caused a few hearts’ skip,

That was the LAST IME…they didn’t preread mine!

–Jonathan Caswell

The Author’s Dad was the Protestant Chaplain at the Bunghamton Psychiatric Center (in New York State) for over 30 years…and sometimes helped in his Dad’s worship services for the patients.

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