Trout

An Epic Poem

Kate & Mike

Part 7



Kate:   What a folly!
Merriment jolly!
The dragon's fire extinguished.
The lolly chap
received a clap
and was pronounced distinguished,

And far and wide
the story spread
and from neighbouring kingdoms
brave knights fled
and flocked 'round Lyons Maid's
humble layer
begging the help
of the dragon slayer.

But the lolly, of course,
had seen his last slaughter,
for he was now nothing
but orangey water,
and the stick that had held him
so proud and so bold
had got a bit charred
and was covered in mould.

But inside his hut, Poor Lyons Maid did dwell,
haunted by nightmares of Dragon-fire Hell,
crippled with war-wounds and disfigured so bad,
he lived all alone in deep shame.
And no. He was not glad.

Mike:   Oh, the loneliness!
Even his holiness
The pope
couldn't cope.

Oh, the solitude!
Such bad attitude!
Sadness!
Madness!

Oh, what dispair!
Nobody cares!
Forgotten.
On the bottom
of life.

... such strife.

A yearning, a yearning,
a desire so strong.
Trout!
That's it! Trout!
The floppy old trout farmer
from line one.
Where, oh where,
oh where has he gone?

 
Trout
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