Stone Lantern

It feels wrong to stick a rhyme inside this electric tome,
When what follows is a rather short but, rambling poem.

The Wanderer and the Barmaid

I wonder as I wander, if I should sit and write the tale,
But, instead I find a tavern and I order up an ale,
From the lovely, little barmaid who is bigger than a whale,
While she offers cheese and crackers and some bread that’s very stale.

I smile upon her as she serves me,
She winks back, which does unnerve me,
I think perhaps she wants to service me,
But she’s just gauging if I deserve mead.

“How will you pay this evening? Is there silver in your purse?”
I’m so furious at the implication that I can hardly curse,
“By God, woman. Of course I can. Don’t be so perverse,
But perhaps you’d rather I should pay with soothing, gentle verse?”

“Money will be fine,” she says.

“Well, worry not upon me, for I have coins to spare.
Coins I have collected from that castle over there.
And by your startled stares, I see you are all aware,
of what used to lair and breathe that loathsome, castle air.”

And now the crowd is interested and all eyes fall to me.
And the crowd does crowd around me and the room is much less roomy.
They scoff, they balk, they disbelieve, all those that can view me,
“You never set a foot inside that castle. You’re just a liar or a loony.”

“Then tell me maid how is it I can describe in such detail,
The layout and construction of that monolithic jail,
Since no one has been inside since those who were babes have grown old and frail?”
So I lean back and quaff my wine, knowing they are hooked upon my tale.

“Tell us what you saw.”
“He could not escape that gaping maw.”
“You would have fell to teeth and jaw.”
And at them all I do guffaw.

“Yes, of course there was a most ferocious beast inside,
That would make grown men wet their pants and little children run and hide
For fear it might be spied. And every evangelic bride,
would trade her young husbands pride to know where the treasure does reside.”

“Treasure?”

“But of course, you folks, who live so close, must know about the treasure.
With the monster dead, I gazed upon the gold and jewels with pleasure,
Knowing that they all were mine to count and sort and measure.
I know, tomorrow, for more I’ll go, tonight I just scooped some up at leisure.”

“With the monster dead, why can’t we all just go and take that cache?”
“Because it belongs to me!” I shouted. “I kicked yon monsters ass!
You should all brand me a hero and not turn my prize to trash.”
While ready for the logic, I am shocked by the backlash.

“A hero, we should brand you? I’ll get my branding iron hot,
Because you put us all in danger when that monster you went and fought.
It might have gotten free and then we’d all be in the pot,
For the beast is awful hungry and a huge belly has it got.”

“Why do you talk backwards?” I ask him.

But the crowd no longer listens. They feel the treasure should be theirs.
A large group bolts on out the door and bounds along the stairs.
“You’re a liar and a fool,” says the maid “And you put on these airs,
Hoping we all run for the treasure and leave the bar to your cares.

“That you may steal our drink and eat your fill and have your way tonight.
But I see through your plot and guarantee you’ll pay your bill alright.”
“Your wits are keen about you, sweetie and you are gifted with great insight.
However, my goal was not to eat my fill, but sate my master’s appetite.”