ODE TO GRIPSHOLM

Thru mists of morn, rain, wind and chill
Gripsholm castle lay still, just ahead
O'er moat did we venture
Through courtyard well armed
Mighty cannons from Russia to dread.

To the prison we turned, our fine meal to be shared
Ere we paused for great doors to unlock,
Food fit for a king
Although servants we were
Food n'er tasted by pour souls in the stocks.

Then, safe passage was ours
We stood at the doors,
Once, even twice, we did knock,
To be turned away rudely with haughty reproach
Our vain efforts with scorn they did mock.

Yet our hearts remained full
Our joy undeterred,
We surrounded the walls and with awe,
Gazed on nature's wild palette of colors so bold,
Yellows, reds, hues of gold, all we saw.

Kind thoughts filled our hearts
As we talked and expressed, our good fortune
To know friends so dear,
To see and enjoy our creators hand,
To our senses brought joy and good cheer.

In sweet days ahead, when Saint Peter we hail
At stout gates, pearly white, we shall hear,
Enter in hearty trav'lers
Your fame has spread far,
Brave band of lunch dungeoneers!--Elder Bruce Thunell