Malediction

My dad was a man of many words,
Unfortunately most of them consisted of profanity.
But it didn’t stop him clipping an ear,
or the side of your head, if as children we produced vulgarity.

He would weave sentences so intricate and clever,
constructed entirely of, Fuck, shit and wanker,
that left a person astounded,
that made neighbours scatter.

If a clergy man passed by, the air was azure with blasphemy
and thick with malediction.
he made it quite an art,
And took great delight in his addiction.

My mother was often mortified,
and was known to stutter,
For god sake when you grow up kids,
Don’t’ you dare swear, do not inherit this affliction.