by Richard Lederer
Rode out upon a road.
This male wore mail for war and would
Explore a wood that glowed.
His tale I’ll tell from head to tail.
I’ll write his rite up right.
A hidden site our hero found,
A sight that I shall cite.
With woe he shouted, „Whoa!“ as rain
Without a break did reign.
To brake, he pulled the rein, and like
a shattered pane, felt pain.
The poor knight met a witch which made
Sweat pour from every pore.
He’d never seen a scene like that.
His sore heart couldn’t soar.
Then they a game for truffles played,
In which he mined her mind.
To prove who was the better bettor
And find who should be fined.
He won one twice, he won two, too.
To grate on her felt great.
To wrest the rest, he went for four,
And, at the fore, ate eight.
Due to her loss, the mourning witch,
’Midst morning mist and dew,
Her truffles missed. I know no way,
Do I, to weigh her rue.
The razed field raised out brave knight’s fear,
As a swarm of scared fleas flees.
He heard a herd of dear deer pray
The pleas of prey: „Please, please.“
A grisly grizzly bear, all bare,
and a hare that had no hair
And a foul fowl bawled that they were bald.
In their pink skins they stood there.
The knight did see a blue whale wail
As it blew out plumes of sea.
„Yoo hoo, you who come riding here,
Please hear and pity me.“
Our knight began to reel, for real,
The world whirled, so to speak.
All the days of the week his sole soul felt
The dizzy daze of the weak.
Our heir to knighthood gave it up.
He felt the fare not fair.
His wholly holy sword soared up
As he threw it through the air.
The bell has tolled, I’m told. The hour
To end our tale draws nigh.
Without ado, I bid adieu,
So by your leave, bye-bye.
(From "Word Circus" by Richard Lederer)
picture © unknown
