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Clerics

There was a fine preacher called Aaron,
Who lived by the Bible, and thereon
Would lecture with pleasure,
In moments of leisure,
To girls whom he chose to lie bare on.

Two disgraceful young harlots from Birmingham
Still shock with the story concerningham.
They raised parts of the frock,
And entirely the cock,
Of the bishop, who kept on confirmingham.
(inspired by a classic)

An evangelist went to the Congo
To preach to the men of A’Wongo
Of virgin-born birth.
Contesting its worth,
They recycled his hide on a bongo.
(inspired by a classic)

There was a kind Christian of Crewe
Granting favours beyond her man’s view.
At the sound of his humming,
She panicked, ‘He’s coming!’
‘Don’t stop,’ begged the vicar, ‘Me, too!’
(inspired by a classic)

Pregnant Mary was reading divinity,
So had to proclaim her virginity.
When she gave triplets birth,
They engendered great mirth,
But they fostered, as well, a new Trinity.
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In the universities of Oxford and Cambridge, students are said to be "reading" the subjects they have chosen to study. Trinity is also one of the colleges of Cambridge. In my story, it probably became a shrine.
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He has, the false bishop of Gloucester,
No virgins at all on his roster.
An entered name’s not
Therefore prone to scream what
The vile Gloucester imposter has cost her.

There was a chased brother called Haartz
Who once warned, ‘Any bugger who starts
To approach me for sex will
Be risking their necks till
The abbot’s grown tired of my parts.’

The kind missionaries preached to Hawaiians
Of God and His Heavenly High ’Uns,
But watching the rude way
Some brazen maids screwed, they
Spent less and less time on the shy ’uns.

A brave witness of Holy Jehovah
Once waved, on the A2 near Dovah,
His odd little tracts that
Got shredded. The fact’s that
Jehovah forgot to shout, ‘Rovah!’

There came screams, which alarmed crows for miles,
From beneath the great bells of St. Giles.
Cried the vicar, ‘My God!
Has that thoughtless young sod
Quite forgotten the bishop has piles?’
(inspired by a classic)

From the Pope to the souls in the pews,
The whole Church is aghast at the news:
It appears Father Ives
Has had seventeen wives
But declines to tell congregants whose.

The poor missionary’s humour was not
Much improved by the place card he got,
Since he felt savage sinners,
When giving priest-dinners,
Should not make them sit in the pot.

A Jewish-born monk, Solly Sabbat,
Objected to many a habit,
So he put shards of glass,
With great care in his ass,
And thus circumcised many an abbot.
(inspired by a classic)

A punk who was drunk stole a skunk
From the junk in the trunk of a monk.
He was soon in bad odour,
So rightly bestowed her
On the monk in a funk, whom she stunk.

There was a shy vicar of Twickenham
Who visited homes with wives sick in ’em.
The most bored he discovered
Doing crosswords, uncovered,
Were asked if they wanted his dictionary.

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