Another random attempt at nothing particularly profound but simply flexing prosodic muscles. This is meant to be a variation on the Sapphic Ode. The final line of each stanza is a bit shorter than normal, but I've tried to use spondees where possible (though it's difficult not to slide into inadvertent trochees).
The crucial question is, I ween,
What are the methods of the dean
By which he keeps himself so lean
And so fit.
Inquiring women want to know
About his metabolic flow
And speculate in whispers low
Why is his diet so effective?
What is his secret weight corrective?
The global feminine collective
But he will make no revelation,
Despite all this interrogation-
"My legs have been since ordination
With words like these he mocks the fuss,
And likewise with the curious
Among the men, he won't discuss
Thus sought by casual and keen,
The stubborn nature of the dean
Makes its discovery no mean
And so the secret all do crave
Shall go with him into his grave-
Unless the health his methods gave
Know the truth and the truth will make you … an idolator? - My friend Fr Gerald Murray has a very good essay at The Catholic Thing. He posted it a couple days ago, so you may already have seen it. It deserves some...
14 hours ago