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Deep in the briny sea
Was a monk fish monastery,
A prayerful variety
Of contemplative piety
From gentle soles to trout,
All swimmingly devout,
Where once a pious oyster
Went strolling round the cloister,
And he was quietly grumbling;
His tummy it was rumbling.
He spied a tasty morsel,
A fellow shark monk’s dorsal.
He lopped it with his chopper,
And hid it good and proper.
He’d eat it some time later
With peas and beans and ‘tater.
There’s no way he would share it,
His stomach wouldn’t bear it.
Meanwhile the poor old shark monk
Swims round and round like he’s quite drunk.
To swim quite straight he needs all fins,
He twists and swerves, he dives and spins
Into a crazy cork screw loop;
His fin must be saved from the soup.
The other monks are looking,
At what the oyster’s cooking.
They see he has the shark fin;
They can’t allow this shell fish sin
And since he is a sinner,
They confiscate his dinner,
And sew in back on shark monk’s back
So he can get himself on track.
The oyster now is pleading;
Forgiveness he is needing.
He’s being quite rambunctious,
He’s big and plump and scrumptious,
And so the monks decide his fate
Is to be served up on a plate.
So now they all are wine-ing,
They’re dancing and they’re dining,
In their monastic cellar
On oyster Rockefeller.

© D.N. O’Brien, 2012

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