Left-Footer has
composed a poem in honour of St. Nicholas... at least, the lack of credit to anyone else made me think it had to be an original.
It really is excellent, and so I am going to snaffle it.
Saint Nicholas was my kind of Saint,
If sometimes short of temper.
Though pacifism was not his bent;
He was fidelis semper.
When Arius denied his Lord's
Divinity, Nick, feeling sore;
Deciding acts speak more than words,
Felled Arius to the floor.
His kind of knock-down plagologue*
Is now not to our taste.
We value courteous dialogue
Above such wordless haste.
And yet there is a time, one feels
To strike and not to speak.
When Reason with Unreason deals,
It's reason which is weak.
For who can mould a brain of mud
With philosophic lore?
Better to thump the stupid crud.
His place is on the floor.
* Left-Footer notes that Plagologue = arguing or reasoning with blows. This word does not appear in any dictionary. It is my own coinage, being derived from Latin 'plagus' = a blow, 'plagosus' = full of blows, violent, cognate with Greek 'plegein = to beat, and logos = reason.
As I said, sheer brilliance. Do
go on over and tell him how much you appreciated it!
