An Autumnal Doggerel in the 51-Year Old Tradition of Gently Ribbing the PCA for Changing their BoCO Every Year

Quite a long time ago, back in the day,
when I was a deacon in the PCA,
the BoCO would allow no commentary,
for the annual revisions were legendary.

The BoCO was kept in blue three-ring bound,
the riddle of hen and egg we ne’er unwound.
Although the debate was hot, we never found,
Binding from freq change or th’other way round.

After the heat of Gen Assemb, held in June,
the pages in Fall would be sent to all.
A solemn ritual drew deacons to the hall:
“The Changing of the Leaves” we would prune

our copies of the BoCO as we were told.
We would open the multicolored pages
and the binder, carefully extract the old,
and replace the new pages, astute sages.

Now the old leaves in yellows, oranges, & reds
were scattered around us on the table,
Close in appearance to desert fall foliage
’Cept one whose quadrant was quite orderly.

Another cried, “Now there’s a decent fellow!
Where’re your old leaves, the reds and yellows?
Keep us not waiting, recycled they must be.
Afterward we’ll leave the table and be free.”

Said he, “In the back of the binder,
I’ve gently placed them as a reminder.
Contained within are days of yore.”
Circled round amphigory, did the bore.

As he went on ’bout Preserving Leaves,
the others railed and called him heterodox,
“Thomas you are not, but rather a dumb ox!”
After hours his book he took up and left.

“Now a heresiarch” is what I hear,
but some small sect still lend their ears.
Ever listening to asinine rages,
they call themselves the Liminal Pages.

On this motto to ever ponder and linger:
“’Tis better to be cast aside within the Book,
’twixt & ’tween text & τέλος (in a threshold nook),
than to rest atop some ephemeral zingers.”