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Then the Dean looked as if he might just have a fit
As he hastily protested, "Hang on a bit,
We were still in a fight, my resolve hasn't quit
And I know for a fact that I didn't submit;"
I replied, "It was clear your resistance was done
Your hot barefeet had already joined in the fun,
You admitted it tickled, your laughs had begun
And your calling the Angel admits that I won;"
Then the Dean looked as if he were fit to be tied
For before he'd submit he would rather have died,
And I wondered within as he fought for his pride
Would the Guardian Angel be taking his side;

Then the Angel moved forward and silence soon fell
As he easily held us all under his spell,
Then he spoke in a voice we heard clear as a bell
"You've both stated your cases concisely and well;
Now the Dean of Decorum brought law for his might
As a weapon to use in his decorous fight,
And he's willing to go to a heavenly height
To keep everyone's soul a pristine, pearly white;
Now the Barefootin Tickler is bonny and bright
And he uses feet-tickling for spreading the light,
Finding male naked feet the most excellent sight
And my task here is clear, to determine who's right;"

"There is beauty and truth in so much that they say
And perhaps this great case could decide either way,
For I find there are multiple shadings of grey
That may make it unclear which will carry the day;
You could all find fulfillment in foot-tickle play
And collectively toss all your footwear away,
Or you could put your shoes on and kneel down to pray
But I have a solution to give, since I may;
Now is tickling bare feet most extremely uncouth
Or could this be the path to the Fountain of Youth,
I've a way to decide, and so ask you forsooth
Can you gentlemen handle the Feathers of Truth?"