The love poems of Kieran Conry

With apologies to Robert Burns, William Shakespeare and Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

My love is like a red, red rose;
My other love's a white'un;
And, thanks to Cormac, no-one knows
What fun we had in Brighton!

The great lover Lochinvar prepares to gallop off on his trusty steed.

Shall I compare thee to glass of wine?
(I am the Tablet's expert, N. O'Phile.)
Thou art full-bodied, fruity - quite divine!
Thy nose is good - thou hast both taste and style!

Old faithful.

How do I love them? Let me count the dames
By making little notches on my crook.
Though they suspected I was playing games,
The other bishops all refused to look.

Cardinal Nichols reacts to the allegations.

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