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Brother Long writes: Torrance University Lodge No. 394 F&AM in California had a fire last year in the Secretary's office. We have refurbished it to use as a storage room and for visitor examinations.

The fire department forgot to tell us that they had removed the grills on the roof where the HVAC vents are. Consequently over the past few months we have had many visitors into this room and they hop around in the ducting system and into the space between the plaster ceiling and the dropped ceiling on the Lodge room. Alas! the pitter patter of little feet are not the future DeMolays. As I presented the problems to the Temple Board for a work party to solve, I came up with these two poems. The problem should soon be cured.

Bats in the Belfry

In the peace of an empty temple
There are soft sounds to be heard.
Is it a Ghost of long lost Brother?
Or the sounds of an intruding bird?

The cooing comes from the heating ducts,
Some scratchy claws do sound.
Some three taps of little beaks,
For admission to lodge does abound.

Alas, the roof entry is open
For Pigeons to enter the ducts.
They reach a blind end and panic;
They foresee a death that sucks.

We need a young, fit brother
To climb onto the roof to fix
And screen of the building air entry,
And pick up the nesting sticks;

Then remove the grills from ducting
And take the dead birds, please.
So no more smelly dead pigeons
Will make us cough and sneeze.

We’ll stick to bagpipe music
Sounding through the grills;
And place around the intakes
Some pigeon diversion pills.

As our Brothers kneel at Altar
And listen for a cue,
They don’t expect to hear
A half dead pigeon coo.

They may be soft and cuddly,
But they leave a mess on floor.
They should wait a time with patience,
And give three knocks at outer door.

Brother Long writes: We recently refurbished a burned out storage room and each time we opened the door we found Pigeons inside. The vent entry on the roof was later screened off but some birds remained inside the ducts and above drop ceiling panels of the lodgeroom.

Pigeons Poem #2

They flock to our lodge, all plump and cooey,
To become Masons, but some say, "Phooey."
They walk in circles on Lodge ceiling tiles firm;
Pausing at South, West and East to learn.
 
The pecking order is strictly observed,
As the pecking of beaks so often is heard.
Their exit and entry was blocked by the Master,
And their beaks are too weak to bite through the plaster.
 
If we loosen a panel above the Altar to free him,
The pigeon may drop a surprise on the bent limb.
A splat on the head would be shock and surprise,
After removal of hoodwink, aimed straight in the eyes.
 
With no metals or weapons allowed in the Lodge,
The capture would be done by Worshipful Rodge.
As working tool missiles fly through the air,
Those plump little pigeons have not a care.
 
They simply want an exit flight out
To avoid what follows: Jubilum's shout.
A room full of Masters is not for a bird,
Even though he has Eaves Dropped the Word. 

They do understand Pidgin English, right?

Bryan M. Long

Assistant Secretary, Head Candidates Coach
Torrance University Lodge No. 394 F&AM
California.