This is a comi/tragedy, rhyming, pantomime type story of what could happen to anyone isolated in a community as a result of religious migration. Just as a matter of extra interest, I sincerely believe that when this parable is published (front page) nationwide in Parish Magazines of all denominations. a deeper understanding and acceptance? of each our peculiar idiosyncrasies will have, at last, been achieved.   Allah/luia!!

WHAT A LETDOWN

Family gone life fully unfurled,
isolated, from the rest of the World
prospects exhausted changed population 
 Diocese closed
due to Christian migration.

Lone aged Spinster
 of limited means
 possessions few and meagred  
out of place
  one left of her race
 isolated beleaguered.

Bobbing grey head in a sea of hijabs
enveloped with smells of rich spice and kebabs 
struggles with shopping as best she can, 
in a cold transferred corner from old Pakistan

Raising her eyes from the wet stone paved floor
 see's a large notice pinned on the Mosque door.
"Because of the conflicts involving our lads
in the ever increasing sphere of jihads.
 We're informed by the prophet
 from Heaven up high 
 stocks of virgins have almost run dry.
 So until such times this can be amended 
suicide bombings to be suspended".

I've not much time left,
 am here on my own,
   she carefully thinks theorising, 
I'll see the Imam, 
read the Quran,
and prepare for radicalising. 

I'm not much to look at 
but when dressed and out 
for a suicide bomber I'm better than nowt.
At least with a glance, he can quickly gauge
I've been round the block, 
and not under age.
 
He can do as he like's behave like a beast
and be safe from them stupid West Yorkshire police.

The local Imam thinks "what a prize" 
 her agreeing to be radicalised.
and in detail explains as she winds on hijab
her noble first martyr
 could've blown up his cab.
 And to give a good seeing to
 is an honour
on a freshly exploded...suicide bomber.

In a state of excitement, un-craven of death
can't wait to exhale her final last breath
begins to do things bad for her health
jogging swimming sapping her strength
in violent attempts to shorten life's length.
 
 "CONVERTS PREMATURE DEATH"
 headlines reason 
completes racial harmony, all round cohesion!

Whispy silks, draping fulsome hips
  awaits in Paradise, her hero's hot lips
At last here's the moment,
 she's waited SO long
skimpily clad...see through veils and a thong.

But she worries the plan has gone horribly wrong
 for the messing about with his blood engorged dong. 
As solemnly borne in a large plastic bin
her anonymous lover is introduced in.
 
Removing the lid and pointing within.
Head bearer declares through lips taut and grim
"Sort out the bits you've most interest in"