The Cowbells of Easter

Small finger bells peal forth

Each Easter Sunday,

Joyful tintinnabulations

Of celebration

In our humble parish.

My mischievous middle son

Found a cowbell,

Ringing it firmly

Adding a firm bass

To the small bells’ soprano.

Our priest,

A really nice guy,

Found all the cowbells,

Hid them,

Possibly to encourage more decorum in church.

But.

In the immortal words

Of the great philosopher,

Christopher Walken,

“More cowbell. It needs more cowbell.”

So I found an app

That simulates a credible cowbell

And, in honor of mischievous middle son,

I ring it

Each Easter morn.

Our good natured priest

Shakes his head,

Gives me

THE LOOK

That says men my age should know better,

And I should.

But joyful

Mild misbehaving

Has kept me coming back to church

For six decades.

And to show respect

For our priest,

Whom I genuinely admire,

I no longer sing the Gloria

In the voice of Elmer Fudd.