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The Little Yellow God
by Farmer's Lung
 This remarkably apposite version of is the first contribution by "Farmer's Lung" to The Fantasy Archers topic of .
There's a one-eyed yellow idol on the shelf next to the loo,
The Churchwarden's rather cross with angry frown;
She's a broken-hearted woman wringing hands about the pews
Whilst the Yellow God forever gazes down.
He was known as Alan Franks and parishioners gave thanks
Though his biking made them nervous, truth to tell.
But in spite of all his pranks, he was worshipped in the ranks
And Phil Archer's daughter smiled on him as well.
She had loved him all along, with a passion that was strong,
In parish life she always has a role.
She was nearly fifty-one and arrangements had begun
To celebrate with drinks and casserole
He wrote to ask what present she might like from Alan Franks
They met before the P.C.C. next day;
And jestingly she told him then that nothing else would do
But to put the little Yellow God away
On the night before the party, Alan Franks seemed much less hearty
Than was usual - he didn't eat his fries
And for once he didn't smile, and he sat alone a while
Before going home to put away the prize.
He returned before the dawn, with his cassock ripped and torn,
And a gash across his temple dripping red;
He was patched up right away, and he slept through all the day
And Phil Archer's daughter watched beside his bed.
He woke and asked the girl who is as thick as two short planks:
"Oh Shula! Bring my cassock into me"
He bade her search the pocket saying "That's from Alan Franks"
And she found the Idol's cupboard's little key.
She upbraided Alan Franks and refused to give her thanks
For the fact that he had shut the God away.
But she wouldn't take the key, and she turned away to flee
Leaving Franks alone, as on his bed he lay.
The party was at its height, on that balmy Borset night.
Shula thought of him and hastened from Grey Gables
As she crossed the village green, she drank in the pretty scene
Accompanied by neighing from the stables.
As she went round the house's flanks, Shula's nervous mind it blanks;
And a chill ran down her spine as though from Russia
An ugly knife lay buried in the heart of Alan Franks
'Twas the "Vengeance of the fallen house of Usha"
There's a one-eyed yellow idol on the shelf next to the loo,
The Churchwarden's rather cross with angry frown;
She's a broken-hearted woman wringing hands about the pews
Whilst the Yellow God forever gazes down.
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