The priests celebrated by drinking each others pee.
The nuns held a dance to dress up in their new clothes.
The pope was never seen again, embarrased, I suppose.
Sister Mary only wore red slippers with a bow.
Brother Martin wore elastics hanging from his hose.
Little sister Martha wore a polka-dotted bra.
The Arch-Bishop arrived, and boy, didn't he caw-faw.
Mother Angelina was still stuck in her room.
she tried to get her habit off by using the broom.
The bell began to toll, it was time for evening prayer.
Father Bruce gave a sermon in his underware.
Back in the room, Angelina was quite stuck.
she'd fallen on the broom, and now was ( knock it off, of course I'm not going to use THAT word to rhyme with stuck
)she'd fallen on the broom and was quacking like a duck.
The whole convent went to bed, as happy as could be,
except poor Angelina, her habit was her abductee.
Honorable mention
Adding your comment:
This is a wonderful humor filled poem and of course my favorite part is the last verse. Thanks so much for the laugh. I needed it.
hehehe, my bad, 
