Mr Pigeon is sick, I can tell.
He’s unkempt, with a rather bad smell.
He’s got a bit of a niggle.
Will the maggots soon wiggle?
Mr Pigeon is not very well.
Mr Pigeon has a bit of a chill,
From lying on concrete quite still.
In repose he lies,
Making friends with the flies,
Mr Pigeon is going downhill.
Mr Pigeon has gained new respect,
The faithful know he’ll resurrect.
A worshipful choir,
Sings psalms to things higher.
Mr Pigeon’s devotional sect.
Mr Pigeon takes pains to explain,
That the faithful from logic abstain.
Belief in the pigeon
Is the world’s new religion
Mr Pigeon did not die in vain.
© Copyright Philip Barton 5th January 2014. All rights reserved.
