Father FrightPosted: October 14, 2009
We have a new welcoming party at our house this year: Father Fright. He stands guard at the rectory as a beacon of right-living and paladin of piety. I do hope you’ll come by to meet him. If you dare. In the meantime, I’ve written a poem to honor his appearance at the Schenck household.
The boys have been rolling their eyes at my creation (the closest I’ll ever come to Dr. Frankenstein) but I think they’ve secretly been inspired by Father Fright: they’re both going as the Grim Reaper this year.
Father FrightCome and meet Father Fright, One blameless in God’s sight. He may look like bare bones As he moans and he groans But always fights the good fight. Warm and fuzzy he’s not With nary a soft spot While he’s quite devout His femur juts out He cares not one tittle or jot. His theology’s quite clear, Though some tremble in fear: “Repent now you loser! God’s your accuser, He’s not as nice as you hear.” While he’s not the Grim Reaper His grace ain’t much cheaper The doctrine is simple: To God you’re a pimple. You be your brother’s keeper. In the Valley of Dry Bones He waits for all to atone With bony hand raised He stands there unphased The devil he strives to dethrone. His eyes blaze so bright Each Halloween night You may scream “egad!” But in the end you’ll be glad To have met Father Fright.