The new vicar

Photo by Irina Iriser on Pexels.com
 The new vicar 

All of the girls  
From the parish were there, 
Neatly turned out  
In their best Sunday wear. 

Church was as packed 
As the very first time
 They did Songs of praise, 
Back in seventy-nine. 

The weather was poor. 
Fog, murky, not sunny, 
No chance of a pew, 
For love or for money. 

The maiden sisters, 
Who in number were four,
 Sat on the front row, 
With eyes glued to the door. 

Widow McGee 
Squashed herself in-between 
Wearing a frock 
Which had never been seen. 

Spinster ladies, 
Isabella and Grace, 
Both looking demure, 
With fresh powdered face. 

Church bells rang nine, 
A buzz went through the crowd, 
Holding their breath, 
All collectively proud. 

An entrance was made, 
What was happening now? 
It must be a mistake, 
Our new vicar, a frau! 

14 Comments on “The new vicar

  1. It seems to there’s
    Nothing that pisses
    off the masses
    more than a missus.

    πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚. Great poem.lovely rhyme and rhythm and more characters in 129 words than I get into most 4 page stories!! Love it!!

    Liked by 1 person

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