Mad Mother Nature

''Jesus Christ'' God exclaimed
As He woke up with a rare
And somewhat mild hangover
Of the ''mere mortals'' brand.
One shot too many
Of the delicious  Château-neuf-du-Pape,
A red highly recommended by bishops
For special masses
A pleasant  evening
But no time to dwell on it
As there was this voice mail
From the rarely happy Mother Nature.
The pissoir would have to wait.
''Hello, dear''  He said, trying
To be positive though
He could see that she was
Not smiling.
''I need help'' she said, right off the bat,
No time for pleasantries.
''we need a vaccine, at the very least''.
''True'' He replied, ''but yourself,
Need I remind you, request the
Occasional cleansing?  Wars,
Plagues and pestilence?''
''Yes, dear, but this is getting
Out of control.  We need a
Vaccine, it must  be told''.
''I'll see what I can de'' He replied,
Disconnecting and calling Amanda,
His favorite witch.
She had survived so much
Despite all the religious cruelty.
She was pleased to offer
A potion for His hangover - but
That is not what He wished from her.
''A vaccine, sweetie?You need
Someone bigger than me''
So she called all her friends,
All angels, despite the religious
 Detractors and fiends
And they worked on it
So  a remedy
There would be
And that, before the next flood,
Hopefully.