I saw Ecclesiasticus Shelling a pod of a wind-dried pea, The little seeds would grow, he said, If only he planted them prayerfully. When gardeners had turned the sod And furrows were divinely moist, He asked the blessing of the Lord And vowed the saints on high rejoiced. When rains dripped sweet and suns beat warm And little peas with being stirred, Ecclesiasticus, in the shade, Wrote emendations on the Word. The green things grew -- with due compost Gardeners had enriched the soil. "Behold," Ecclesiasticus said, "The harvest of Thy servant's toil." And when the peas were blossoming, He bade that blooms should counted be. The priestly census-takers found There were eighteen thousand and sixty-three. "God works in many a wondrous way!" He boomed, hearing the gay results, And, girding up his bishoply paunch, Assailed nineteen heretic cults. When certain little bugs came forth With irreligious appetite, Gardeners offered Paris Green, But he, "We are sinners in his sight!" To gardeners, scouting for the table, God gave few peas for their reward. But, anyway, he had roasted chicken, And thanked the mercy of the Lord. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IS YOUR TOWN NINEVEH? by MARIANNE MOORE AFTER DIVORCE; FOR NAHID SARMAD by KAREN SWENSON MEETING AND PASSING by ROBERT FROST THE BEAUTIFUL by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES IN HONOR OF TAFFY TOPAZ by CHRISTOPHER DARLINGTON MORLEY |