It is crazy you might say
But I decided for one day
To undertake a simple task
“Of what?” you might ask
The overrated honour
of becoming a Pastor
Straight to the Church office I went
My back certainly not bent
On my table lay a gift
Not for mean men if you catch my drift
It read “Pastor please accept this swatch
for the times in prayer you keep watch.”
With no hesitation, I slipped it on
Relishing my award for a job well done.
Thinking the work is bursting with favour
While pastors make a charade of labour
I rubbed my palms with great expectation
Extremely eager for the next visitation.
The strangest of cases chose to stop by
Circumstances of their lives all awry.
“Help me” was the lingua franca
of these ones that wanted an answer.
Staring at my eyes like opticians
Presuming this was the home of magicians.
The last was an unsettled couple
whose challenging issues we managed to topple
Thankful for taking their problems under the knife,
Husband turned and whispered to wife
“That watch is sure beautiful for a fact.
I hope our building fund is still intact.”
Feeling famished, I took a stop at a restaurant
The waitress I assumed thought me important.
Circling and circling around my area,
I felt like the Waldof Astoria.
She finally spat out with great rancor
“I thought you were a Pastor!”
“Young lady what is my crime?”
My utter confusion at its prime
She snatched a bottle from under my seat
My heart accelerated its beat
In her hand was a big bottle of stout
As onlookers began to pout
Back home in my bed trying to sleep
My mobile phone began to beep
“Pastor! My wife is having a C. S.
This I’m sure you know is no joke business!
Could you keep praying over the receiver?
I need her to safely deliver. ”
The last attempt to lay my head
Which by now was as heavy as lead
Turned to be of not much great use
As there was no good enough excuse
Or merchantable exhaustion story
For missing “Morning Glory”
I concluded this was madness
Terminating my slot with gladness
To undertake that extreme task
“Of what?” you might ask
The underrated honour
of becoming a Pastor
Written by Chioma Diru
But I decided for one day
To undertake a simple task
“Of what?” you might ask
The overrated honour
of becoming a Pastor
Straight to the Church office I went
My back certainly not bent
On my table lay a gift
Not for mean men if you catch my drift
It read “Pastor please accept this swatch
for the times in prayer you keep watch.”
With no hesitation, I slipped it on
Relishing my award for a job well done.
Thinking the work is bursting with favour
While pastors make a charade of labour
I rubbed my palms with great expectation
Extremely eager for the next visitation.
The strangest of cases chose to stop by
Circumstances of their lives all awry.
“Help me” was the lingua franca
of these ones that wanted an answer.
Staring at my eyes like opticians
Presuming this was the home of magicians.
The last was an unsettled couple
whose challenging issues we managed to topple
Thankful for taking their problems under the knife,
Husband turned and whispered to wife
“That watch is sure beautiful for a fact.
I hope our building fund is still intact.”
Feeling famished, I took a stop at a restaurant
The waitress I assumed thought me important.
Circling and circling around my area,
I felt like the Waldof Astoria.
She finally spat out with great rancor
“I thought you were a Pastor!”
“Young lady what is my crime?”
My utter confusion at its prime
She snatched a bottle from under my seat
My heart accelerated its beat
In her hand was a big bottle of stout
As onlookers began to pout
Back home in my bed trying to sleep
My mobile phone began to beep
“Pastor! My wife is having a C. S.
This I’m sure you know is no joke business!
Could you keep praying over the receiver?
I need her to safely deliver. ”
The last attempt to lay my head
Which by now was as heavy as lead
Turned to be of not much great use
As there was no good enough excuse
Or merchantable exhaustion story
For missing “Morning Glory”
I concluded this was madness
Terminating my slot with gladness
To undertake that extreme task
“Of what?” you might ask
The underrated honour
of becoming a Pastor
Written by Chioma Diru