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 A Bazaar Tail

One night a knight on a hoarse horse
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 shalt 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.

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)

--
Ashton Trey Belew
http://www.uvm.edu/~atb

  The reason we start a war is to fight a war, win a war, thereby
causing no more war!
        - George W. Bush: The first Presidential debate