Ding Dong, Ding Dong,
I think someone’s at the door
Can you get ‘cos I’m busy
Shouts my wife from the other floor

Well dressed woman, two kids in tow
‘How nice to find you in’ says she
Shame her smile never reached her eyes
I’ve twigged, and stop her in mid plea

What is it with these people
Forever trawling on our street
Protected by their children
From any responses regarded ‘off beat’

I’d love to invite them in
and listen to it all for half and hour
Then I’d stop them, halt their flow
Stand up and give them such a glower

If I came calling, to your house
To preach my beliefs at your door
Could I persuade you to change your views
Would you not think I was rude to the core

Have your beliefs by all means
But why assume we need converting
Each to their own, is what I say
Your arrogance is, a bit disconcerting

As you approach the front of our house
What makes you think I’m in need of your God
How do you know that I don’t have one
Or need approaching by you and your squad

Do something useful
Give it a rest, call it a day
As you head down the path
That’s what I pray

© peterspoetry 2018

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