Bea Z. Boddie
Ding, ding... ding-a-ling
Jangled the telephone.
“Yes?” Bea answered quickly.
“Oh...my,” she hummed. “Oh, no...”
She wagged her silver head.
She clucked her solemn tongue.
How ever did this happen?
That man is way too young!
The phone back in its cradle,
Bea’s brain was all abuzz.
This was a thing to tell,
If ever one there was!
Her mom had been a blessed saint
Named Beatrice Zelia Boddie.
Daughter followed in her steps,
a.k.a. Bea Z. Boddie.
She knew the town inside and out.
She loved it when they shared.
Fast to listen, quick to tell,
She made a show of prayer.
The town had many secrets.
Miss Bea, she knew them all.
Though lately there’d been conflict,
‘Cuz of that new preacher, Paul.
He had this little problem
With Bea’s official calling.
He thought she was a gossip
And warned of hellfire falling!
“‘Tis not really prayerful
To share all you see or hear.”
But his wise admonishment
Fell solely on deaf ears.
He saw she was offended.
In her eyes resentment glistened.
“Miss Bea, I know you mean well...”
She was in no mood to listen.
So when Bea heard the news
That Paul had got himself a gal,
She couldn’t wait to make a call
To Ima, her young pal.
Not her normal chatty self,
She had been distant lately.
Bea just knew it’d make Ima smile
To prove that man unsaintly.
“You know, she does seem different,”
Said another friend, Sharon Schtuff.
“I told her ‘bout Preacher’s attitude,
And she hung up in a huff!”
So Bea dialed Ima Lissnen.
Between them news spread fast.
What a partnership they had!
She knew it’d always last.
But wait... Was that a manly voice?
“Hello...? Who’s on this call?”
Seems Ima had a second pal.
His name was Preacher Paul!
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