Fallen Angel

My kind of guy….

Duncan the Drunken Angel
was in line to have his wings clipped.
By the tight-lipped Senior Cherub,
who had charge of Bondi Beach.
For the sodden Surfing Seraph,
being well known to the Sheriff,
had been found a tad miraculous;
face down flat on Saviour’s Reach.

He’d helped spread the Christmas message
in the bad old days of Herod.
Sung in praise the King of Heaven,
something they no longer teach.
But he couldn’t do celestial,
made terrestrial instead.
He was grounded by St Peter
for a controversial speech.

Told that he’d no longer hover,
didn’t bother with such things.
Wings were purely ceremonial,
just a nuisance on the beach.
Now he spends his days with surf bums.
drinking dark rums, lime and coke.
It’s not wholly, holy spirit.
so he’s not compelled to preach

© franciman 2017
Views: 436
critique and comments welcome.

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8 Comments on "Fallen Angel"

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Amman
Member

Very clever; made me larf, Jim. Like the rollicking rhythm and alliteration – sodden surfing seraph – priceless. A real feel good piece. makes me wanna down a couple.
Cheers.

Ionicus
Member

Just my kind of humour, Jim. Enjoyed the poem immensely.

Pommer
Member

I really liked this one Jim,well done, Peter.

Supratik
Member

Very clever word play. I love the last two lines and also the alliteration pointed by Tony.

Paulloz
Member

Sweet alliteration, fun wordplay. Enjoyed

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