To the water Father Finlee walks Hardly bothered By the ten pound lock Round his ankles Every step he takes Heaven's angels Tremble in his wake

To the water Father Finlee walks Hardly bothered By the ten pound lock Round his ankles Every step he takes Heaven's angels Tremble in his wake

Feet hurt Hands are dirty Warden said supper ends Round 5:30 but I don't Think we need to Save him a seat Tonight
What an unexpected but beautiful poem - this was wonderful to read
