It's my best poem, so if you want to read a poem of my mine, go with this one. |
Little Johnny Hayden once met a maiden who made his smile the width of a mile. They met one day while baling hay; she began to sing of many a thing: of birds that could talk and snakes that could walk. Thus was he struck stupid by that little imp, Cupid. He asked her her name, she said "It's too plain!," He said, "Come, don't be shy!" But, she had no reply. As they spoke more often, she seemed to soften; surely he must have gained her trust! Though more tame, she kept her name. "Let's meet again, tonight in the glen." "That sounds fair, I'll be there." The boy was elated, but not satiated. They met that night, but with such little light, he just couldn't see what was about to be. At 10 he arrived for the tryst he'd contrived. He stood and waited for his dear belated. The full moon rose, the wind chilled his toes. It was getting late, with no sign of his date. "Where could she be? Is she hiding from me?" He heard a sound and turned around. A unicorn with a silver horn! Her frame was slight, her coat purest white. She bowed her head, and speared him dead. "All men are the same, just wanting my name. I'm Judge in this wood, and you were no good. I cannot praise your wicked ways, thus you are banned from this troubled land." As the light grew dimmer, with one final shimmer, the horse/goat/deer did disappear. After the maiden killed Johny Hayden she went to her mother, wise above all other, and told with great pride how Johnny had died. But her mother chastised to the young one’s surprise “What you did, my dear, was done out of fear of giving your name but it isn’t the same in the human mind as among our kind! It’s not nearly as sacred! They shouldn’t earn hatred. To them, it is polite; they’re not after your might! Do not misconstrue, he wants to know you. For them, names have no power; they’re as harmless as flowers!” With a great terror she realized her error and did so despair at the wretched affair. “Mother, what should I do? I am so royally skrewed!” “I see your eyes glisten, so take heed and listen. Wait not for tomorrow, go sing him your sorrow using the old lyrics of the ancient clerics.” She returned to the wadi in search of the body. When she had found it she did so surround it her horn touched its wound as the unicorn swooned. Could she earn his pardon? Does death make one harden? She thought of his death, said with heavy breath, “Little Johnny Hayden, with your death I am laden. I will sing you the tune of an ancient rune. If death won’t dispel, I shall ring you your knell and confess my sin to all of your kin.” As she sang the song in her native tongue there were tears in her eyes as she watched his chest rise. But unanticipated he then dissipated into a shining mist that then did persist to land upon her chest and into it depress. The sorrowful mare was suddenly aware and rather bemused at how the magic was used to create within her a new mouth needing dinner. |