Gimme that Ole Time Religion

 

“Huh!” The herald hangels hing,

“Hiccups are a Yule-y thing.

“Stone the crows and mercy mild,

Mary’s popped another child!

“We know that nations won’t arise –

Just got squashed by Him-of-the-Flies.

“Don’t ask us what you should do;

One’s enough, but as for two...”

“Hark!” The lesser choir wails,

“Nathaniel’s born. How Daddyo pales!”

Confusion reigns; more’s the pity,

But no one’s drawn to Nathanielianity,

So God’ll give this one’s mass a miss

And, for Wisdom’s sake say nowt re this:

Mum’s to leave the runt behind,

Where Herod’s army’s far from kind,

But, lo, her firstborn’s free to rise

And rubber-stamp triumph on the skies.

“Hark! Heralds all,” the soldiers yelp,

“We’ve saved the day without your help.”