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The Awesome Responsibility of Old Mr. Solomon
The night, I said, was a howling wind,
A tidal wave swept the seas,
And the baying of wolves, throughout the world, Proclaimed
an eclipse of the moon.
I lay on my bed, awaiting the call,
My soul was steadfast, my spirit grim,
He entered, without knocking, in a swirling mist,
On a cloud of ectoplasm, unwashed,
Emitting stale odors of celestial unease,
He was wearing, their version, of an ill fitting suit,
A minor official of the bureaucracy,
With a gaseous blob of a face.
He hovered over my bed, like a toy balloon,
A simpering, gelatinous, wavering moon,
In a horrible shade of green, no less.
His head kept bobbing up and down,
And on his lips, was his idea,
Of a friendly, convivial grin.
He spoke accented English, in consonant bursts,
They had forgotten, somehow, to teach him the vowels.
The empty ritual was invoked, once more,
He asked for my completion, to start things off,
My obligation was stressed, as an act of faith,
When he called in his marker, I averted my face.
The grin faded, and the bluster began.
I sensed his limitation, he started to wheeze,
In a plea for sympathy, an obvious ploy,
He complained about the hours, and conditions of work,
Pigheaded to a degree, and definitely de trop,
Unpardonably rude to boot,
He whistled and wheezed, then hissed at me,
His little pig's eyes, never left my face. But,
I listened unmoved. I would not give in,
And, weaving in dismay, with a hideous wail,
He chilled my bed, with his icy breath,
And floated away, like a whistle in the wind,
I'll be back, by and by, he screeched.
Falling back spent, from my labors, at last,
The moon emerged, once again,
To soothe the oceans, and secure the night. A
smile of relief, passed my lips,
I save the universe, for another day,
Hallelujah, be praised. Amen. |
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