A Moslem, a Sikh, a Christian and a Jew
Came together to debate a few
Who pleases his wife the most?
Before or after feasting on roast
The Moslem dips into his feast
And says my Sun belongs to my East
With my fires I ignite her furnace
My moon, I draw her yielding curtain
The Sikh upholds the number One
And says I am the only gun
Who gives the Sun its fiery sparks?
For love is void without my marks
The Christian stands up and cries
These tears, fountain of my rise
For I am endowed with holly matrimony
Each time I make love to my wife I am Holy
Then it came turn of the Jew
He stands up and takes a clue
From his pocket he retrieves his locket
And points to his infallible docket
Inside I keep my prophet
I slip it over my rocket
Every time I yield to love
A new star is born above
Do you see the Milky Way?
Each light burst from my play
Beginnings and the ends
Bookends of love my friends
And the larks went on doing
What larks do best in wooing
And men went on pursuing
What men do best at chewing
Creation gazes down and laughs
At testosterone marking its crafts
If it takes God to keep the peace
'Let them feast on my love for release'
August 9th,2012
Copyright Leaking Pen 2012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This kept me giggling while reading. I like this narrative way of bringing out your lines and posing the problem between and among characters. Your last line is a great summation.