Dear Lord, my wife has done a silly thing.

That’s clear now and there’s no point arguing.

She’s guilty, and she feels a fool because

She’s let you down, but Lord, here’s how it was:

We honestly thought that the snake must be

One of your creatures. Though admittedly

He did look somewhat suspect. And he hissed.

Nonetheless, we thought, ‘don’t be prejudiced,

He’s probably a perfectly good bloke.’

So Eve was open-minded when he spoke.

And Lord, remember, she had never had

A reason to think anyone was bad.

She never had been lied to, never heard

Any but the most kindly, truest word.

She’d learned to think that everyone was sweet,

So she was ill-prepared for such deceit.

In short, Eve is naïve. And yes of course

She should have been more steadfast. Yes, the force

Of your initial orders should have won,

Not that snake-oiled cad; but what’s done is done.

And though this fruit is doubtless really something

Special, bottom line is, Eve was scrumping.

Now, scrumping is a crime in any book,

And, as a crime, should be redressed. So look:

Punish my wife. Let her hair-style not stay.

Let her not hear the birdsong for a day.

Let her not bathe in Eden’s azure lake

(But take those leaves off her for goodness sake!)

Or punish me. I too, Lord, am to blame.

She’s got my rib. We’re pretty much the same.

But Lord, good Lord, eternal toil for all

Mankind? The fall of man? Well... it’s your call,

But some might say it’s slightly OTT.

Some might say so, Lord, naturally not me!

From now on, Lord, we shall take extra care

To follow your instructions, and we swear

We’ll quietly make do with what we’ve got.

Go easy just this once, Lord...? Please...? Or not...?

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