You Can't Take It With You

PIERRE’S POCKETS

The beginning of Wisdom
Is Fear of the Lord,
So Wisdom with age?
I’ve seen no accord.

So you’ve lived nine decades,
Seen the world more than twice.
But what have you learned?
That sinners are nice?

That sinners eat,
And sinners drink!
And sinners read,
And sinners think!

And sinners, have,
Sincere desires,
Like remodeling rooms
With art that inspires,

And compels one to lift,
His goblet of wine,
To toast all we want
And make want, what is mine!

So all in modern,
Society,
Shall acknowledge their versions
Of propriety.

And when you die,
They’ll bring goblets, blessed lockets…
But they’ll realize, too late…
Pierre’s shroud has no pockets!

Holy Mother

SACERDOS

“They have abandoned the Fort, those
who should have defended it.” (St. John Fisher)

Who held the Fort
Till the Calvary came
Fighting for all
In His Holy Name?

Who fed the sheep
As the pastures burned dry
A few Good Shepherds
Heeding their cry?

Who led the charge
‘Gainst heresy’s Huns
Defending the degreed
To His lowliest ones?

Who battened down
The hatch of the barque
To warm cold souls
From shivering-seas dark?

“Who?” mocks Satan
Delighting in doubt
Fills you with questions,
Never lets you find out.

“Hoc est enum
Corpus meum…
…and for many…” who kept
The dead words – Te Deum!