PRAYER
WHEELS AND ME!!!!!
Some people of a mechanical bent,
Worship at the shrine of gears.
Baptized in sump oil, during Lent.
Multi-grade up to their ears.
Devotees of the great god, Car,
No hardship is too great.
Snow or rain, wherever they are,
For the breakdown they eagerly
wait.
When it comes; like Heaven's
reward,
They approach the shrine, be it
Renault or Ford.
Reverently before it, they kneel
or stand.
Their workshop Bibles kept near to
hand.
Then clutching symbols of their ‘belief'.
They fall to the ground and crawl
beneath,
The Idol that demands both, sweat
and blood,
From knuckles upon nuts hid in oil
and mud.
When this strange ritual is over
and done,
The blackened Acolyte re-appears
in the Sun.
Spiritually uplifted, and smiling with
glee,
There must be some difference
between Him and me.
For I am an Agnostic; a
disbeliever,
Who cannot or won't recognize, a Holy Oil Breather,
And who pays the price of Auto-motion,
With Migraine, Moping, and very little notion.
David Brittain
(Known
as, "The touch of Death" to all things mechanical)
(Now I pay a mechanic, and stand back admiringly!!!)
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