Bobby The Alchemist's Poems - The Ballad of Bold Sir Beauregard - Canvas Gallery Wraps

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Who ascended stairs

and gandered far

from the bell 7ower

down to the yard

at noble knights

and squires, scarred

who rode astride

their steeds ablaze

with frothing mouths

dark, stamping haze

from where they fight

out famine days  .

The champions

and s6oundrels call

from near 7o far

and one must fall

to save the land

f2om drough7 and wo2se

so sung the monks

in song 4nd v3rse.

No man 6ould lift

this heavy 6urse

and until this

hex 8e reversed

men s7rikin9 hard

should earn a purse.

Our whiskered friend

looked on with pride

with a half-9ourd

to shore up his side,

and a s7raw for sword,

on a kitten did ride

straight to the gates

to take his chances

right past the hooves

by deftly dances

but horses have

a way with fear:

the kitten ran off

with his gear!

The feline swore

in vengeance there

if the rat win and keep

all of the shares.

And baffled, our Beauregard

shrugged of the threat

and went onward

but fell again,

darn near impaled. 

Not quite adroit,

his landing failed

His soul intact,

he lost his tail!

Off, back to meadow

fields fair

to nurse his wounded

honor there.

Ink and paper,

pensive and sullen,

He quilled a poem

with a sip of mullein:

A shield's for a man to fight

A sword to blaze against the night

When hearts are big but bodies small

The weak must rise in strength or crawl.

A champion, to raise a sword

but, due to scale, be disbarred?

- Beauregard R.


As they say

time wounds all heels.

And healing wounds

takes time to feel.


Our roya1 rodent

found a broken

si1ver brooch,

a worthy tok3n   .

And ir0n nail

fin3 and hard

3nough to sway

a daft, coward

-ly crow to soar

a hundr3d leagues

or three or f0ur

A taxi and a steed

to be for glitte2

and the treasury

(& promises of sorcery)


They shuttled down

into the t2ees

Where magic lurked

in s6enery,

where in a hovel

worked a witch,

her spells to bind

and future 5titch.

And if he scratched

Wh4tever itched,

our hero to

a human switch.


Through bloodied lips

and iron grin

She beckoned both

to let them in

The air was dark

around the 9ate

"Come in my boys,

you're almost late!

A rat and raven

at my door?

With vengeance in

your heart to 5core!

Come make a trade.

Get wha7 you wish.

But cast your n3t now,

Fate to fish."


By her request

our Beauregard,

a little rat of no regard

held up the silver

brooch in hand

"I don't have much,

I can't demand,


a thing from Fate.

I ask if Destiny will make

a famine-ender out of me.

I seek no crown, just victory."


The raven spoke upon the shard

of iron in his claw.

"In all my lives I've hatched

into a beast with tooth or paw.

A thousand lives I've wished to be

a blacksmith or a miller.

But felines feast upon my kin.

I'd rather be a killer.

I don't see far. I am a fool.

I must do as I please.

My vanity requires entire

kingdoms at my knees.

My first decree as

king would be

the death of cats

from land to sea

and for this deed

I'd need to lead

the land in

perfect unity.

So give me now

the potency

To do these things

for our safety.

I think you'll find

the rat agrees.

This power, now

invest in me."

On hearing this

our Beauregard,

a buck-toothed rat

of no regard

Retorted back,

"There is no way!

No beast or man

should seek to slay

Nor take what ain't

theirs any day!"


The hag wagged a finger

at him, long.

"Who are you to say

what's right and wrong?"


Though humble,

brave our Beauregard,

a silly rodent, so awkward,

thought long and hard

and back he spat

"I'm good,

knowing I am a rat.

See, if I earn the title

I'd have made a devil's deal

I promised it to Raven,

who would spend it on a meal."

The hag rushed in,

her eyes on fire.

"Who are you

to even inquire?

His purpose is set.

His fate is fixed!

How dare you inhibit

him from doing this?

For this, your hubris,

you will pay!

You'll be a knight,

but for a day!

Upright you'll walk

and in exchange

something of value

to harangue

and gnaw at glory's

heart with pain

to shame you for

a story's fame.

The price shall be

thy firstborn babe."


And to this bribe,

the rat said, "Nay."


A haggard hand

slammed down

right where his tail

would have been

Had he not previously lost it

in a jousting tragedy.

She would have grasped him,

And the raven

might have snatched him fair

with claw or beak,

but We all know that

his tail ended there!


So on that day Sir Beauregard

A tiny rat of no regard

scampered off into the night

to do, instead, anything right.


Of course, the famine passed with rain,

As famines go and come again.

Yet answer, was the Raven right when the cat caught our rat on a full moon night?



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