Saturday, 16 April 2016

When in Rome

Now some Syrian migrants from Greece,
In the Vatican found a new lease,
Where they'd happily dwell
With the dumb infidel,
Who blessed their "religion of peace."

Soon they were living in clover,
And communion was all that they strove for:
Though the wine was haram,
For the blood of the lamb,
By Allah, their cup ranneth over!

In the morning the strains of adhan,
Vied with the bells of St. Anne,
So for harmony's sake
She got a remake,
And now it's a mosque with a ban.

Being folks with a modesty obsession,
Art tended to make an impression,
So in the famous chapel
The guards had to grapple
To save Adam from naked aggression!

But there's solace for the Islamic sons,  
Fleeing the Caliphate's guns:
They'll feel right at home
Next a medieval dome, 
Where the women are all veiled as nuns!

And for kissing each journo-jihadi,
Il Papa was top sugar daddy;
The heights that they caroled 
His praises should herald
A renaissance in the art of castrati!

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