The pastor’s goat broke free again
It jumped the fence and joined the rain
It chewed the ushers’ Sunday shoes
Then walked inside without excuse
And stood beside the second pew
The choir paused mid-praise and looked
The drummer stared, his beat mistook
The goat let out a holy sound It walked
around, then sat back down
As if it knew the sermon’s point
The pastor frowned and sipped his tea
He sighed and said, “Now let it be”
“For even goats can feel the Lord”
The church broke into claps and roars
While Deacon John just shook his head
The goat stayed still through half the verse
Then grabbed a page and made it worse
It ate the notes on Psalm Two Three
Then left the church, quite peacefully
A tail held high in quiet pride
The lesson held, the tale grew strong
The goat became a parish song
Now every child and elder swears
They heard it quote the Lord in prayers
And saw it nod through final grace
THE PASTOR’S GOAT
