Lightgreen Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Wolstencroft they called the guard,
big he was, a tub of lard.
Stood before the Pearly Gate
guarding heavenly estate.

Came St. Peter, checked ID,
said it simply cannot be
that a man who is not white
could come in, it was not right.

God was asked about his view,
he replied 'The sky is blue,
it is not your bloomin' race
or your black and ugly face.

It's the name, you could be green,
brownish like a Pinto Bean,
you would see that at this gate
we do not discriminate.'

Adds St. Peter 'We ain't mean,
but if someone who looks green
wants to gain up here admission
it's a simpleton's decision.

Green, the colour, comes in shades,
dark would be the Everglades,
no one here adores the night,
we prefer the green be light.'