Saga, the Pishite Priestess, wrote a Hymn to Pishe, detailed below:
Saga's "The Hymn of Pishe and the Wanderer"
I sing to you the hymn of Pishe, Goddess of slight showers and the desert wanderer.
He wandered for days outcast from the city of the river by a priesthood cruel and unkind.
Those stall owners, it turned out, had not been completely blind.
At first he thought as such: I really don't like cats anyway.
But then he lost his way.
Glory be to Pishe, Goddess of slight showers! Praised be her name! Will she save this lost kind soul or will it be in vain?
Sister Saga grasps her prayerbeads and looks devout a while before continuing.
He was parched and overheated on the verge of desperation.
Staggering, falling to the ground he submitted to contemplation.
Who could help him in his time of need?
Maybe Offler his call would heed?
He did go to church there once after all.
Glory be to Pishe, Goddess of slight showers! Praised be her name! Will she save this lost kind soul or will it be in vain?
Then Offler appeared in a pool of mud.
He listened to his prayer and thought: 'duh..blubb blubb.'
He gave him a sausage and went home.
Woe be to the traveller because the sausage had been donated by a funny old goat.
Who had said that the gift would be to cut his own throat.
Glory be to Pishe, Goddess of slight showers! Praised be her name! Will she save this lost kind soul or will it be in vain?
Feeling more empty then ever before.
His feeble mind stumbled upon some ancient lore.
He cried out to Sek for what the heck?
And Sek appeared as quick as the wind.
He cut out his liver with an evil grin.
And gave him a patronizing pat on the chin.
In his convulsive anguish he cried out PISH![1]
Sister Saga raises her hands in praise to her Goddess.
And there she was in a cloud of mist!
As beautiful as sunlight, as sweet as heavy condensation.
Praise Be to Pishe, Goddess of slight showers!
She healed his wounds and quenched his thirst in exchange for compensation.
She will heal our souls and make our enemies cower.
Praise be to Pishe...
Sister Saga hums a tune woving it into intricate little patterns merging with the sound of flowing water and the dripping from the leaves...
Praise be to Pishe...
[1] This is not a mispronounciation; he was calling out 'Pish' in desperation, and Pishe appeared.