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

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A noble rat

of no regard

who ascended stairs

and gandered far

from the bell tower

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 scoundrels call

from near to far

and one must fall

to save the land

from drought and worse

so sung the monks

in song and verse.

No man could lift

this heavy curse

and until this

hex be reversed

men striking hard

should earn a purse.

Our whiskered friend

looked on with pride

with a half-gourd

to shore up his side,

and a straw 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!

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 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.

Our royal rodent

found a broken

silver brooch,

a worthy token.

And iron nail

fine and hard

enough to sway

a daft, coward

-ly crow to soar

a hundred leagues

or three or four

A taxi and a steed

to be for glitter

and the treasury

(& promises of sorcery)

They shuttled down

into the trees

Where magic lurked

in scenery,

where in a hovel

worked a witch,

her spells to bind

and future stitch.

And if he scratched

Whatever 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 gate

"Come in my boys,

you're almost late!

A rat and raven

at my door?

With vengeance in

your heart to score!

Come make a trade.

Get what you wish.

But cast your net now,

Fate to fish."

On hearing this our Beauregard,

a little rat of no regard

held up the silver brooch in hand

"I don't have much, I can't demand,

respectfully, 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?"

On hearing this, 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 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 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.



A perfect addition to every room! Our standard canvas is made from a finely textured artist-grade cotton substrate which consistently reproduces image details with outstanding clarity and detail.

.: 100% Cotton fabric
.: Closed Back
.: Build with a patented solid support face
.: High image quality and detail
.: For indoor use