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Saturday, November 1, 2014

Sir Muttonhead of the Wintry Fall

The cold came early this year
It overstayed its welcome last year past
Freezing all the lakes over
Fish holding their breath to the last gasp

This isn't what was wanted
It won't do at all
So a warrior donned his dull armor
And ordered this new winter to turn back to fall

Of course it didn't listen
As seasons tend to not
But the armor isn't the only thing that's dull
About this unmounted clanking knight errant

There was no other path
Than to challenge the chill to a bout
The loser of which would change
The most basic thing they were about

"I call thee out!!"
Came the slightly muffled call
Sounding as if projecting from a sewer pipe

In answer the weather produced a small squall

Sounding the charge our knight drew his sword
Clattering the scabbard as he tripped and staggered
Crashing to his knees with the sound of a cymbal
This hero was certainly not nimble

But now with his dander up he charged to the wind
Slashing and hacking though a target was lacking
Never stopping for bothersome details of logic
This palidin only slowed down eventually to be sick

With a wretch and wrench of muscles contracting
He threw his armor off in a supersonic explosion
With expletives flying most un-knightly like
All the steel was surrendered to nature's slow corrosion

And that's where you can still find him
Our once gallant gentleman of chain and plate
Now a simple coward in homespun cloth
Tending potatoes upon a borrowed estate