No Farther

ALIQUIS

I cannot call you “Father”,

Because I’m C.of E.,

With such un-English customs

I strongly disagree.

I can’t forget a precept

That I was taught from birth;

“Call nobody your father”

The Bible says “on earth.”

PRESBYTER

“And be ye not called masters”

The text announces too;

So, do not call me “Mister”

Which also is taboo.

Such narrow exegesis

Will, one day, drive you mad;

If “Father” is forbidden,

What do you call your Dad?

ALIQUIS

I cannot call you “Father”,

It strongly smacks of Rome;

But I have found a title

Which brings us nearer home.

I think I’ll call you “Padre”,

As normally is done

Throughout our British Forces,

Approved by every one.

PRESBYTER

But still you call me “Father”,

Which “Padre” signifies;

Your quaint circumlocution

Deserves a special prize.

For “Padre” is Italian,

And papal, through and through;

So, why use foreign language

When English words will do?

ALIQUIS

I cannot call you “Father”

In spite of what you say;

No argument will move me

Although you talk all day.

Yet I have found a label

With which I can concur,

And, with your kind permission,

I’m going to call you “Sir”

PRESBYTER

Of course, you’re only leaping

From frying-pan to fire,

Your “Sir” is also “Father”,

For “Sir” is really “Sire”;

So, how you will address me,

I’m sure I do not know;

But as my name is Joseph,

You’d better call me Joe.

Father Forrest