What does the Vicar do between Sunday and Sunday?

‘Tis on a Monday morning, a fellow comes to call
To protest re a carpet sale in the Parish Hall.
Then an unexpected contretemps leaves the Vicar in the lurch
And a chap in dungarees calls about the boiler in the church.
Directly after luncheon, the doorbell it rings -
A parishioner is calling to complain about the Choir and what it sings.
Cycle then to widow Gumly to lend an ear to her pains.
Dash back to a meeting to consider Wayside’s drains.
Go to bed resolving tomorrow will be better -
Get a lot of jobs done and write that trying letter!

‘Tis on a Tuesday morning - the Vicar’s called to town
To sit in at a meeting or risk the Bishop’s frown.
He has a sandwich on the train and back again once more,
Ting-a-ling goes the telephone and ratatat the door!
Tuesday night he’ll try to write his notes for The Spire
Before the emergency meeting to discuss the risk of fire.

‘Tis on a Wednesday morning, a parishioner comes knocking
To complain that the Vicar’s done something she thinks SHOCKING.
Calm her down and send her off with a forgiving blessing
Dear me! the ‘phone is ringing, it’s really most distressing.
And so on, and so on until the evening light.
Can he sit down with his family? No, it’s Rehearsal Night!

Never mind, on Thursday morn perhaps he’ll have a minute.
But he’s called away from an urgent task before he can begin it.
It’s stewardship and land-appeal and sermons by the score.
One thing gets accomplished - up bob a dozen more.
Comfort a parishioner who’s feeling rather worried.
Cairn down another one who complains SHE’S feeling flurried!

‘Tis on a Friday morning - a funeral first thing,
Then off to the cottage hospital in response to an urgent ring.
In the afternoon he did sit down and this is what he wrote -
The first two items only under “Dates to Note,”
For the telephone is ringing, churchwarden’s on the line -
“If you don’t fill in form 123 the church will cop a fine.”

‘Tis on a Saturday morning - a sermon to be written,
Ratatat the door - “ Come at once, our grandmama is smitten.”
Be a tower of strength now to someone in distress
And back again to call of bells and glimpse of wedding dress.
Say, “I pronounce you man and wife” and off to fetch the clippers,
And out into the churchyard to join the other snippers!

‘Tis on a Sunday morning, the Vicar’s up betimes.
His day is regulated by the churchbells’ chimes.
After lunch, if he’s lucky, he’ll take the dog a walk.
But no, a churchyard grumbler engages him in talk.
Evensong is over - perhaps now his tasks are done.
Not so - the study light burns late - for some are not begun.

‘Tis on a Monday morning, the Vicar must be free.
I’LL go along and ring his bell, he must have time for ME!

(The author is aware that here and there the course of the above is not smooth and easy going, but then, neither is Life for the Vicar!).

Source: M.O., The Spire Magazine - 1951 December