Saturday, March 21, 2009

When He Was Young and Spry

“Grandpa,” she said, “I wrote something for you to stop and read.”
He was dashing quickly down the road to check up on his speed.

He stood at attention to salute a toad, then took the proffered scroll
and gave it right back, so she read it aloud: The Dragon in the Bowl

I’th’days when my grandfather lithe and youthful was,
his now lengthous beard naught more than light fuzz,

a dragon sojourn’d unto the village market seekingly of apple pie;
but my grandpa, bloodthirst and rash, nor wanting sensible “why”,

for the sake of his kindly kin, yea, his kin and kith,
raisèd up his sword and smote the dragon thatwith.

The worm recoil’d and forthwith gave a prolong’d fiery bellow;
notwithstanding, the serpent gave battle. “A rather tough fellow,”

remarkèd the youth offhandedly as he took his lunch break
consist’d whichwas of apples, and largely of dragon steak,

whichby meanteth he that ‘twas disgusting and hard to chew.
Nevertheless, heldeth he to. “Instead I will make some stew.”

The professor approved of this longago fairytale very much, maintaining every word was true.
“Yes,” he told her, “the apples; even our diction—you have it right. That is what I used to do.”

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