Post by pansy on Oct 27, 2008 22:18:09 GMT -5
We had to wrote our own 'Canterbury Tale' for school. So this is mine! I realize the ending is crappy and my poetry probably sucks. It was going to be better but I got pressed for time.
--
The rains had come and gone again,
Springtime inching slowly in.
The sun was high in the sky,
Touching all with its warm eye.
And lovers danced, their eyes alight,
Till the sun slept and the moon brought night.
A village sat nestled between two mountains,
The town was large, square holding twin fountains.
And all the people were kind to their neighbor,
Be it baking them pie or offering labor.
Atop the mountain, joy’s reaches stretched not,
And a scientist made his home in this dismal spot.
He alone did not seem to feel the excitement,
Inept at enjoying the season despite the enticement.
His brain was continuously ticking,
Till he thought of ideas, ripe for the picking,
And inventions were made. Skilled was he
When it came to making creatures to be
Feared and respected, and stared at in awe.
His genius, perhaps, was his fatal flaw.
On one of these chilly Spring days,
When the sun hid behind clouds its warming rays,
That something occurred out of the norm.
A young woman, cloak bunched about her form
Lost her way on the twisty path,
Shielding her eyes from the wind’s furious wrath.
Her hair was read as fire, standing out against the stone,
‘twas not often such a girl was out all alone.
She made her way up to the scientist’s lair,
And knocked on the door. It was rare
That the scientist got any visitor at all.
His servant, Alfonse, appeared in the hall
And opened the door. “What troubles you,
Fair lady? What may I do?”
“Please, sir, I have lost my way,
While finding a route home today.”
Alfonse looked her up and down,
The scientist watching with a frown
From his room up in the tower.
Eyebrows creased, his face was sour.
Entranced though he was by this girl’s looks,
All he knew of love he’d learned from books.
Yet there was this strange sensation deep within,
He felt he could not match again.
When the girl – Mary was her name,
Had left his lair, the naïve dame,
He called for Alfonse. “Quickly,” said he,
“Find my lab coat and bring it to me!”
Treason, his name was, had decided, in part,
That he could no longer live without Mary Sue’s heart.
“My friend,” said he to his dear friend,
“This girl, we must find her again.
I fear I shall not be the same,
Unless Mary’s heart I tame.
So, go! Leave me, so I might
Think of how to win her tonight.”
The servant bowed and left him be,
A smile upon his face as he
Thought of the love of his master dear.
How seldom did he feel joy so near.
It did his heart good to know,
As he went to his room below,
That the master might soon be happy once more.
He knew not the madness going on behind Treason’s door.
While his servant slept, the doctor grew
More determined to have Mary’s love true.
Never had he felt this sensation
Nor so sure about the birth of a creation.
Surely Mary would be so enthralled
That deep into love she would surely fall.
He worked late into the night,
Till the night grew old and soon turned to light.
Alfonse came once to knock at his door.
Treason waved him away, wanting no more
Interruptions in his work.
Alfonse agreed, though by the door he did lurk.
Watching his master, a man gone mad
From love, the first that he had had.
It wasn’t long before Alfonse was called to his side.
“I’d like you to go and find my future bride.”
And so Alfonse did, grabbing his coat,
And left the lair with a written note
To Mary from his master,
Bidding her to come all the faster.
He arrived in the village in mid-afternoon,
And started looking for Mary, beginning in the saloon.
“Do you know of a girl with flaming red hair,
Whose face is pleasant and skin very fair?”
This question was asked to all he did meet,
Till he ran into the girl, right on the street!
“My rescuer!” she cried, warm smile on her lips.
“Won’t you come inside and warm your fingertips?”
She gestured aside to the shop that she owned.
“No ma’am, thank you,” he said in a pleasant tone.
“But won’t you come with me to the mountainside?
My master wills it, and it is where he resides.”
A delicate frown came upon her face,
“And why does he require my presence in haste?”
She asked, quirking an inquisitive brow.
“I’m not at liberty to say, but how
You will be surprised!”
He replied, meeting her eyes.
“A surprise? For me?” Mary asked, disbelieving
And closed shop quickly to prevent thieving.
“Your master I know not, and I doubt he knows me,
But a surprise I shall not refuse, selfish though it be.”
Alfonse grinned widely, and slipped her the paper,
And as she read it, she couldn’t keep her
Lips from rising into a smile.
“You mean to tell me that all the while
That I was at your home, he never said
A word? What a strange path fate has led
Me down,” she speculated with a grin.
Alfonse nodded, content just to listen.
“I look forward to meeting him,”
Mary continued, hoping Alfonse didn’t think her dim-
Witted for basing her affections on a written letter.
To her, words seemed, in relation to actions, better.
“So, this master of yours,” she said as they walked,
“Why is it that he stayed hidden and we never talked?”
“Well,” said Alfonse, thinking quickly,
“At the time he was feeling sickly!”
Mary nodded, and said nothing more about the matter,
Content to enjoy the walk without thoughtless natter.
They arrived at the lair at half past five,
And Alfonse hoped that Treason’s creation would thrive.
“Master! We’re here,” he called up the stairs,
And Treason’s voice echoed down to the pair.
“Bring her up,” he called, and Alfonse escorted
Mary upstairs, a pleased grin he sported.
When Treason opened the door and beckoned them in,
Mary went first, eager to get to know this gentleman.
“How nice to meet you, doctor” she said with a smile.
“And nice to speak with you, finally,” he replied while
He took her hand and led her towards a door on the far side of the room.
“I’ve made something for you, my dear,”
He said softly, his eyes near to tears.
“I hope that you’ll like it, I worked all night.”
When he opened the door, Mary screamed in fright!
Before her eyes was a monster most foul,
Made from a horse, a monkey and owl.
“What a hideous beast!” she cried in despair,
“What have you done, this just isn’t fair!
How selfish a thing it is that you have done.
What is this, your idea of fun?
These animals did not deserve this fate!”
She shrieked, though it was too late.
“But, my love, I thought you would like it!
You’re supposed to love me, not throw a fit!”
“How could I love something like you?”
She spat, her words striking true.
“You’re despicable, terrible, a monster of a man.
And let the world bring hell upon you as best it can.”
With that, Mary turned and fled from the lair,
Out of the room and down the stairs.
Treason was left, astounded and dumb,
Unable to comprehend what she’d said he’d become.
Letting out a cry of distress,
He sunk to his knees as the pain progressed.
“What cruel fate has God bestowed upon me?”
He cried, for he clearly could not see
Why someone so great could offer such joy
And then take it away, much like a toy.
And as the sun set on that fateful day,
Treason closed the doors of his castle and locked himself away.
The castle still stands, though no one really knows
What became of Alfonse and Treason. It was written in prose
That if at night, you stay alert,
You can hear the sound of a doctor’s never-ending hurt.
--
The rains had come and gone again,
Springtime inching slowly in.
The sun was high in the sky,
Touching all with its warm eye.
And lovers danced, their eyes alight,
Till the sun slept and the moon brought night.
A village sat nestled between two mountains,
The town was large, square holding twin fountains.
And all the people were kind to their neighbor,
Be it baking them pie or offering labor.
Atop the mountain, joy’s reaches stretched not,
And a scientist made his home in this dismal spot.
He alone did not seem to feel the excitement,
Inept at enjoying the season despite the enticement.
His brain was continuously ticking,
Till he thought of ideas, ripe for the picking,
And inventions were made. Skilled was he
When it came to making creatures to be
Feared and respected, and stared at in awe.
His genius, perhaps, was his fatal flaw.
On one of these chilly Spring days,
When the sun hid behind clouds its warming rays,
That something occurred out of the norm.
A young woman, cloak bunched about her form
Lost her way on the twisty path,
Shielding her eyes from the wind’s furious wrath.
Her hair was read as fire, standing out against the stone,
‘twas not often such a girl was out all alone.
She made her way up to the scientist’s lair,
And knocked on the door. It was rare
That the scientist got any visitor at all.
His servant, Alfonse, appeared in the hall
And opened the door. “What troubles you,
Fair lady? What may I do?”
“Please, sir, I have lost my way,
While finding a route home today.”
Alfonse looked her up and down,
The scientist watching with a frown
From his room up in the tower.
Eyebrows creased, his face was sour.
Entranced though he was by this girl’s looks,
All he knew of love he’d learned from books.
Yet there was this strange sensation deep within,
He felt he could not match again.
When the girl – Mary was her name,
Had left his lair, the naïve dame,
He called for Alfonse. “Quickly,” said he,
“Find my lab coat and bring it to me!”
Treason, his name was, had decided, in part,
That he could no longer live without Mary Sue’s heart.
“My friend,” said he to his dear friend,
“This girl, we must find her again.
I fear I shall not be the same,
Unless Mary’s heart I tame.
So, go! Leave me, so I might
Think of how to win her tonight.”
The servant bowed and left him be,
A smile upon his face as he
Thought of the love of his master dear.
How seldom did he feel joy so near.
It did his heart good to know,
As he went to his room below,
That the master might soon be happy once more.
He knew not the madness going on behind Treason’s door.
While his servant slept, the doctor grew
More determined to have Mary’s love true.
Never had he felt this sensation
Nor so sure about the birth of a creation.
Surely Mary would be so enthralled
That deep into love she would surely fall.
He worked late into the night,
Till the night grew old and soon turned to light.
Alfonse came once to knock at his door.
Treason waved him away, wanting no more
Interruptions in his work.
Alfonse agreed, though by the door he did lurk.
Watching his master, a man gone mad
From love, the first that he had had.
It wasn’t long before Alfonse was called to his side.
“I’d like you to go and find my future bride.”
And so Alfonse did, grabbing his coat,
And left the lair with a written note
To Mary from his master,
Bidding her to come all the faster.
He arrived in the village in mid-afternoon,
And started looking for Mary, beginning in the saloon.
“Do you know of a girl with flaming red hair,
Whose face is pleasant and skin very fair?”
This question was asked to all he did meet,
Till he ran into the girl, right on the street!
“My rescuer!” she cried, warm smile on her lips.
“Won’t you come inside and warm your fingertips?”
She gestured aside to the shop that she owned.
“No ma’am, thank you,” he said in a pleasant tone.
“But won’t you come with me to the mountainside?
My master wills it, and it is where he resides.”
A delicate frown came upon her face,
“And why does he require my presence in haste?”
She asked, quirking an inquisitive brow.
“I’m not at liberty to say, but how
You will be surprised!”
He replied, meeting her eyes.
“A surprise? For me?” Mary asked, disbelieving
And closed shop quickly to prevent thieving.
“Your master I know not, and I doubt he knows me,
But a surprise I shall not refuse, selfish though it be.”
Alfonse grinned widely, and slipped her the paper,
And as she read it, she couldn’t keep her
Lips from rising into a smile.
“You mean to tell me that all the while
That I was at your home, he never said
A word? What a strange path fate has led
Me down,” she speculated with a grin.
Alfonse nodded, content just to listen.
“I look forward to meeting him,”
Mary continued, hoping Alfonse didn’t think her dim-
Witted for basing her affections on a written letter.
To her, words seemed, in relation to actions, better.
“So, this master of yours,” she said as they walked,
“Why is it that he stayed hidden and we never talked?”
“Well,” said Alfonse, thinking quickly,
“At the time he was feeling sickly!”
Mary nodded, and said nothing more about the matter,
Content to enjoy the walk without thoughtless natter.
They arrived at the lair at half past five,
And Alfonse hoped that Treason’s creation would thrive.
“Master! We’re here,” he called up the stairs,
And Treason’s voice echoed down to the pair.
“Bring her up,” he called, and Alfonse escorted
Mary upstairs, a pleased grin he sported.
When Treason opened the door and beckoned them in,
Mary went first, eager to get to know this gentleman.
“How nice to meet you, doctor” she said with a smile.
“And nice to speak with you, finally,” he replied while
He took her hand and led her towards a door on the far side of the room.
“I’ve made something for you, my dear,”
He said softly, his eyes near to tears.
“I hope that you’ll like it, I worked all night.”
When he opened the door, Mary screamed in fright!
Before her eyes was a monster most foul,
Made from a horse, a monkey and owl.
“What a hideous beast!” she cried in despair,
“What have you done, this just isn’t fair!
How selfish a thing it is that you have done.
What is this, your idea of fun?
These animals did not deserve this fate!”
She shrieked, though it was too late.
“But, my love, I thought you would like it!
You’re supposed to love me, not throw a fit!”
“How could I love something like you?”
She spat, her words striking true.
“You’re despicable, terrible, a monster of a man.
And let the world bring hell upon you as best it can.”
With that, Mary turned and fled from the lair,
Out of the room and down the stairs.
Treason was left, astounded and dumb,
Unable to comprehend what she’d said he’d become.
Letting out a cry of distress,
He sunk to his knees as the pain progressed.
“What cruel fate has God bestowed upon me?”
He cried, for he clearly could not see
Why someone so great could offer such joy
And then take it away, much like a toy.
And as the sun set on that fateful day,
Treason closed the doors of his castle and locked himself away.
The castle still stands, though no one really knows
What became of Alfonse and Treason. It was written in prose
That if at night, you stay alert,
You can hear the sound of a doctor’s never-ending hurt.