After the Feast
His younger son, who once demanded - cash! -
His part of the estate, and, in a flash,
Ran off to foreign lands and spent it all,
On swindlers (so he’s called “The Prodigal”),
Then sold himself to locals, to tend swine,
And dine on swill, at last began to pine,
Returned, abject, beslimed, in rags, and yet,
His father welcomed him - forgive... forget?
The Prodigal, who’d learned on pigs and shoats,
Excelled at herding Father’s sheep and goats,
No longer slave or bondsman to another,
But disciplined by jealous Elder Brother,
And there were clothes, and meat, and milk, and honey,
For Younger Son, but never any money.
His younger son, who once demanded - cash! -
His part of the estate, and, in a flash,
Ran off to foreign lands and spent it all,
On swindlers (so he’s called “The Prodigal”),
Then sold himself to locals, to tend swine,
And dine on swill, at last began to pine,
Returned, abject, beslimed, in rags, and yet,
His father welcomed him - forgive... forget?
The Prodigal, who’d learned on pigs and shoats,
Excelled at herding Father’s sheep and goats,
No longer slave or bondsman to another,
But disciplined by jealous Elder Brother,
And there were clothes, and meat, and milk, and honey,
For Younger Son, but never any money.
Non-practicing atheist
Apologies if this contravenes thread instructions against banter. 