St. Abune Teklehaimanot Poem by Pete Crowther

A more surprising saint there’s not
Than Abune Teklehaimanot,
He is my all-time favourite saint;
There is none other quite so quaint.

He spent his time converting kings
And once he sprouted several wings.
He was climbing down from Debre Damo
When he fell off the cliff with a cry of woe.

His friends believed it was the end,
But then he started to ascend.
Six wings he’d grown, quick as a flash,
To save himself from a nasty crash.

Three times round his home he flew
So all could see what he could do.
When he got old he lived in a cave,
All part of a plan his soul to save.

In it he stood like a planted tree
And neither the sun nor the moon did see.
For years and years Abune stood there
And never sat upon a chair

Until the day one leg fell off
This very remarkable man of the cloth.
Undaunted, Teklehaimanot
Just stood upon the other foot.

He kept that up for seven years,
Four of them waterless, it appears.
So now you’ll see why he gets my vote,
St. Abune Teklehaimanot!