The Summoner's Tale

In a village old and quaint,
Lived a friar, far from saint,
Begging alms and preaching lies,
Filling folks with false goodbyes.

Oh, the friar, oh, what a lark,
Always sneaking in the dark,
Greedy for the gifts and gold,
But soon his tale will be retold!

To a sick man, Thomas named,
Went the friar, quite untamed,
"Give to me, your soul I'll save,
In Heaven you'll have golden pave."

Thomas, tired of friar’s greed,
Hatched a plan to meet his need,
"Lay your hand upon my rear,
And a special gift you'll hear."

The friar leaned in, unsuspecting,
Thomas farted, quite affecting,
Loud and long, the gift did blow,
Leaving friar in a show!

Friar ran to the lord's hall,
Told his tale to one and all,
But the lord and squire laughed with glee,
At the friar's fart folly!

"Divide that fart among your kin,
Each a piece, so thin and thin,
Share it out, let all partake,
Of the gift you tried to take."

So beware the greedy friar,
Seeking gifts to lift him higher,
For in the end, a fart might be,
The only gift for hypocrisy!