Palm Sunday would not be complete without......

                                                     THE DONKEY



When fishes flew and forests walked

    And figs grew upon thorn,

Some moment when the moon was blood

    Then surely I was born.

With monstrous head and sickening cry

    And ears like errant wings,

The devil's walking parody

    On all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,

    Of ancient crooked will;

Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,

    I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;

    One far fierce hour and sweet:

There was a shout about my ears,

    And palms before my feet.

G K Chesterton

A Catholic poem for Wednesday....

A cider song

The wine they drink in Paradise
They make in Haute Lorraine;
God brought it burning from the sod
To be a sign and signal rod
That they that drink the blood of God
Shall never thirst again.

The wine they praise in Paradise
They make in Ponterey,
The purple wine of Paradise,
But we have better at the price;
It's wine they praise in Paradise,
It's cider that they pray.

The wine they want in Paradise
They find in Plodder's End,
The apple wine of Herford,
Of Hafod Hill and Herford,
Where woods went down to Herford,
And there I had a friend.

The soft feet of the blessed go
In the soft western vales,
The road of the silent saints accord,
The road from heaven to Herford,
Where the apple wood of Herford
Goes all the way to Wales.

G K Chesterton