An Overcooked Semon Poem by Charles Karia

Humour isonly delicious,
When served in small doses,
When the envoy isn't lost,
In his eagerness to please.

The absence of the presence,
Makes clowns of the clergy,
Turning he should wear a crown,
into into a street comedian.

The everlasting saving discourse,
Becomes a comedy in error,
With shallow excited listeners,
Cheering the driftingpreacher on.

Is this the ancient royal business?
For which the king's son died,
Or a theatre of the absurd,
Made of robed royal comedians?

Trace your way back sir,
Or time will judge you,
Unworthy of the royal charter,
And handling the affairs of the king