St. Patrick, never leave me in the lurch,

swimming in Irish whiskey.  Toward my perch

Advent is drawing on, time for more church,

more Gospel readings, lessons from St. Paul,

time to lend ears to dancing David’s call.

The youngest son of Jesse calmed King Saul

in madness, plucking his ten-stringed lyre

until Israel raised him from a byre

and launched his songs onto our sea of fire.