What do you spiritual people think of this poem?

Question

SAINT PETER AT THE GATE

SAINT PETER STOOD GUARD AT THE GOLDEN GATE
WITH SOLEM MIEN AND AIR SEDATE.
WHEN UP TO THE TOP OF THE GOLDEN STAIR
A MAN AND A WOMAN ASCENDING THERE.

APPLIED FOR ADMISSION, THEY CAME AND STOOD
BEFORE SAINT PETER, SO GREAT AND GOOD.
IN HOPES THE CITY OF PEACE TO WIN,
THEY ASKED SAINT PETER TO LET THEM IN.

THE WOMAN WAS TALL, AND LANK AND LEAN,
WITH A SCRAGGY BEARDLET UPON HER CHIN.
THE MAN WAS SHORT AND THICK AND STOUT,
HIS STOMACH WAS BUILT SO IT ROUNDED OUT.

HIS FACE WAS PLEASENT AND ALL THE WHILE
HE WORE A KINDLY AND PLEASENT SMILE.
THE CHOIRS IN THE DISTANCE THE ECHOS WOKE,
AND THE MAN KEPT STILL WHILE THE WOMAN SPOKE.

O, THOU WHO GUARDS THE GATE, SAID SHE,
WE TWO CAME HERE BESEECHING THEE
TO LET US ENTER THE HEAVENLY LAND
AND PLAY OUR HARPS WITH THE ANGEL BAND.

OF ME, SAINT PETER, THERE IS NO DOUBT,
THERE IS NOTHING IN HEAVEN TO BAR ME OUT.
I'VE BEEN TO MEETING THREE TIMES A WEEK,
AND ALMOST ALWAYS I'D RISE TO SPEAK.

I'VE TOLD THE SINNERS ABOUT THE DAY
WHEN THEY WILL REPENT THEIR EVIL WAYS.
I'VE TOLD MY NEIGHBORS, I'VE TOLD THEM ALL
ABOUT ADAM AND EVE AND THE PRIMAL FALL.

I'VE SHOWN THEM WHAT THEY'D HAVE TO DO
IF THEY'D PASS IN WITH THE CHOSEN FEW.
I'VE MARKED THEIR PATH OF DUTY CLEAR,
LAID OUT THE PLAN FOR THEIR WHOLE CAREER.

I'VE TALKED TO THEM LOUD AND LONG,
FOR MY LUNGS ARE GOOD AND MY VOICE IS STRONG.
SO, GOOD SAINT PETER, YOU CAN CLEARLY SEE
THE GATE OF HEAVEN IS OPEN FOR ME.

BUT MY OLD MAN, I REGRET TO SAY,
HAS NOT WALKED IN EXACTLY THE NARROW WAY.
HE SMOKES AND SWEARS, AND GRAVE FAULTS HE'S GOT,
AND I DON'T KNOW IF HE'LL PASS OR NOT.

HE NEVER WOULD PRAY WITH AN EARNEST VIM,
OR GO TO REVIVAL, OR JOIN IN A HYMN.
SO I HAD TO LEAVE HIM IN SORROW THERE
WHILE I, WITH THE CHOSEN, UNITED IN PRAYER.

HE ATE WHAT THE PANTRY CHANCED TO AFFORD,
WHILE I, IN MY PURITY, SANG TO THE LORD.
AND IF CUCUMBERS WERE ALL HE GOT,
IT'S A CHANCE IF HE MERITED THEM OR NOT.

BUT OH, SAINT PETER, I LOVE HIM SO,
TO THE PLEASURES OF HEAVEN LET HIM GO.
I'VE DONE ENOUGH, A SAINT I'VE BEEN,
WON'T THAT ATONE?, WON'T YOU LET HIM IN?

BY MY GRIM GOSPEL, I KNOW IT'S SO
THAT THE UNREPENTENT MUST STAY BELOW,
BUT IS'NT THERE SOME WAY YOU CAN SEE
THAT HE MAY ENTER, WHO'S DEAR TO ME?

IT'S NARROW GOSPEL BY WHICH I PRAY,
BUT THE CHOSEN EXPECT TO FIND SOME WAY
OF COAXING, OR FOOLING OR BRIBING YOU,
SO THAT THEIR RELATIONS CAN AMBLE THROUGH.

AND SAY, SAINT PETER, IT SEEMS TO ME
THE GATE IS NOT KEPT AS IT OUGHT TO BE.
YOU SHOULD STAND BY THE OPENING THERE
AND NEVER SIT DOWN IN THAT EASY CHAIR.

AND SAY, SAINT PETER, MY SIGHT IS DIM,
BUT I DON'T LIKE THE WAY YOUR BEARD IS TRIMMED.
THEY ARE CUT TOO WIDE, AND OUTWARD TOSS,
THEY'D LOOK BETTER NARROW, CUT STRAIGHT ACROSS.

SAINT PETER SAT QUIET, AND STROKED HIS STAFF,
BUT IN SPITE OF HIS OFFICE HE HAD TO LAUGH,
THEN SAID, WITH A FIERY GLEAM IN HIS EYE,
WHO IS TENDING THIS GATE, YOU OR I?

THEN HE AROSE IN HIS STATURE TALL,
AND PRESSED A BUTTON ON THE WALL.
AND SAID TO AN IMP, WHO CAME ALL AGLOW,
ESCORT THIS WOMAN TO THE REGIONS BELOW.

THE MAN STOOD STILL AS A PIECE OF STONE,
STOOD SADLY, GLOOMLY THERE ALONE.
A LIFE LONG IDEA HE HAD
THAT HIS WIFE WAS GOOD AND HE WAS BAD.

HE THOUGHT, IF THE WOMAN WENT DOWN BELOW,
THAT HE WOULD CERTAINLY HAVE TO GO,
THAT IF SHE WENT TO THE REGIONS DIM,
THERE WAS NOT A CHANCE OF A SHOW FOR HIM.

SLOWLY HE TURNED,
BY HABIT BENT,
TO FOLLOW WHERE EVER
THE WOMAN WENT

SAINT PETER, STANDING ON DUTY THERE,
OBSERVED THE MAN'S BACK AND SAID,
FRIEND, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN WED?
THIRTY YEARS, WITH A HEAVY SIGH, AND ASKED WHY?

SAINT PETER WAS SILENT, WITH HEAD BENT DOWN,
HE RAISED HIS HEAD AND SCRATCHED HIS CROWN.
THEN SEEMING A DIFFERENT THOUGHT TO TAKE,
SLOWLY, HALF TO HIMSELF, HE SPOKE.

THIRTY YEARS WITH THAT WOMAN THERE?
NO WONDER THIS MAN HAS NO HAIR.

SWEARING IS WICKED, SMOKING NOT GOOD,
HE SMOKED AND SWORE, I SHOULD THINK HE WOULD,
THIRTY YEARS WITH THAT TONGUE SO SHARP?
O, ANGEL GABRIAL, GIVE HIM A HARP.

A JEWELD HARP WITH GOLDEN STRING,
GABRIEL, GIVE HIM A SEAT ALONE.
ONE WITH A CUSION UP NEAR THE THRONE.
CALL UP SOME ANGELS TO PLAY THEIR BEST,
LET HIM ENJOY THE MUSIC AND REST.

SEE THAT ON THE FINEST AMBROSIA HE FEEDS,
HE'S HAD ABOUT ALL THE HELL HE NEEDS.
IT IS'NT JUST HARDLY THE THING TO DO,
TO ROAST HIM ON EARTH AND THE FUTURE TOO.

THEY GAVE HIM A HARP WITH GOLDEN STRINGS,
A GLITTERING ROBE AND A PAIR OF WINGS,
AND HE SAID, AS HE ENTERED THE REALMS OF DAY,
WELL, THIS BEATS CUCUMBERS ANYWAY.

AND SO, THE SCRIPTURES HAD COME TO PASS,
THE LAST WILL BE FIRST AND THE FIRST WILL BE LAST.....

(Elizabeth E, Harmon)

Answer 1

Thov love it =o)

Thov think that is truth.

Answer 2

Well, it was very long for such a little punch line. It is a twisting of the word, and that verse at the end, although laced with truth. there will be a group many that think they are right with the Lord and on that final day they will say Lord Lord let us in, and he will say depart from me I never knew you, and the door will be slammed and there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Answer 3

Wow that is something. So inspirational I almost thought I was having another spiritual dream. Amazing poetry skills.

Answer 4

Very cute with a distinct ring of truth about it.

Blessed Be

Answer 5

Theologically incorrect - but makes a good point / lesson

Answer 6

Finally, a fairy tale with a happy ending! YEA!

Answer 7

that's neat . did you write it?It gives a lot of truth to religion and it's fantasies. .What goes around does come around.

Answer 8

AS YOU KNOW I AM A CHRISTIAN.BUT I SOMETIMES GET ANGRY AND BITE WITH A SHARP TONGUE.
THE POEM IS GREAT ,A LITTLE LONG,BUT VERY GOOD.
BUT ONE THING LEFT OUT.
WITH OUT JESUS AS YOUR SAVIOR YOU WILL NEVER ENTER IN.NO MATTER HOW GOOD OR HOW BAD.
JESUS IS THE ONLY WAY.

Answer 9

I think you should change your name to Enorka

Answer 10

Worth taking the time to read. It's cute. Thanks