Workshop # 17

I, Coomaraswamy, defender of the poor and obscene
Departing from the Law, I wish to create no ugly scene
For my life was pain and tribulation in unequal measure
Indeed, some painful memories remain my bitter treasure!

Allow me to wish you all a happy season
Even in the absence of any worthy reason
Except my frailty which compels me to woo
All and sundry, friends and enemies, too! 

At this late hour when my life-breath is short
I beg to be relieved of defending another tort
Lest my last journey prove to be tiresome and long
And my soul trapped in some unearthly song!

I have supped with lions and other horrors too
Yet have protected my flock against God knows who
All are welcome to compose lines on my worth
Yet I know I have wronged my very own birth!

My last will and testament is clear to you all
Don’t let your fears make you slip and fall
Good living is learned at the Devil’s feet
Dining on fowl, rabbit and prohibited meat!