When God had finished moulding earth
he looked around and had clay left
so squeezed it with both verve and deft
to give the halfmade Pole his birth.
With what remained he sat and thought,
for what to do with unused clay?
so cast on it bright sunlit ray
and knew he had that which he sought.
The halfmade Pole, a rough-hewn clod,
of ruddy face and bristled lip
with little but stale beer to sip
weds angel wings from God.