ODE TO A CHAPEL VEIL
Oh lowly, little, chapel veil,
You are my dearest friend.
For when my hair's all mops and brooms,
You cover, end to end.
And when my hair's not curling right
Or when it sticks out straight,
You gently hold it all in place
And make it look first rate!
But feminist, they hate you so,
You lowly, simple thing.
To them you are so vile, not veil,
To praise Our Lord and King.
And passing by the Church of Seven,
"Autonomy's", their phrase.
They never know the joys of Heaven,
Such as, no bad-hair-days!
For lowly, lacey, chapel veil,
You tame my hair, so wild!
But truth-be-told, though I look nice,
It's all for the Christ Child.
Oh lowly, little, chapel veil,
You are my dearest friend.
For when my hair's all mops and brooms,
You cover, end to end.
And when my hair's not curling right
Or when it sticks out straight,
You gently hold it all in place
And make it look first rate!
But feminist, they hate you so,
You lowly, simple thing.
To them you are so vile, not veil,
To praise Our Lord and King.
And passing by the Church of Seven,
"Autonomy's", their phrase.
They never know the joys of Heaven,
Such as, no bad-hair-days!
For lowly, lacey, chapel veil,
You tame my hair, so wild!
But truth-be-told, though I look nice,
It's all for the Christ Child.
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