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Friday, October 28, 2016

The Ballad of the Cross-Country Gentleman

While looking over something else, I came across this silly poem I wrote years ago. The morality of a man ducking his creditors might be a little skewed, but the silliness is definitely intact. Enjoy laughing at the poor poetry too, I certainly did. 


There once was a man that was named Don Quintoe,
With so many bills he didn’t know what to doe,
So he threw up his hands, said “Away with these bills!”
And he ran through the door to the road to the hills.
His creditors heard, and didn’t like this at all,
So they took to the road and they vowed they would maul,
That bold Don Quintoe, who was having such a ball,
Out where the sun shown free, and he owed nobody.

CHORUS: “I am Don Quintoe,
“I owe and I owe,
“But I’ll not go away
“Till the queen you lay,
“At the feet of this Don,
“The cross-country gentlemon!”

He ran and he ran, and rejoiced at being free,
Till he did look behind him and then he did see,
Those men who resented his having defected,
And were determined to see their bills paid.
They were behind, as has already been said,
But did I tell you they were also ahead?
Don gasped in his shock at the creditors sundry,
And promptly decided to go cross-country!


Away Don did go, up and up he did run,
Away from the hot road bathed by the warm sun,
He ran till he came to a dark forest’s mouth.
This forest was dark, deep, and ran from the south;
Should he enter a place so dark it erased
The sun (for branches together so tightly laced)?
Evil things must dwell there to live out of the sun,
For good things exist without that orb none.


Don entered the forest, with nary a peep,
Though he knew that doing so was a great leap,
And as soon as he came, adventure he found,
For into his sight a huge creature did bound.
This beast had great horns, twice three, on top his head,
His eyes looked as though he was never abed,
And he growled at our Don, “What do you here, mon?”
Quintoe took a deep breath and then said the Don,


“What Queen?” said the beast, his brow creased hard with thought,
“I don’t know,” answered Don. “But it does rhyme a lot.”
“Hold hard, Don Quintoe,” growled the enormous beast,
“I know of a queen, and in beauty not least,
“An evil ogre’s cellar she does lie beneath.
“Who also has a good fortune to bequeath.”
“A fortune?” said Don, pricking up his large ares,
“Lead on, beast; to rescue this fair queen I do dares!”


The beast led Don deep, deep into the dark wood,
Till at last in front of the ogre’s house they stood.
Don did shake in his boots, till he thought of his bills;
“No ogre is worse than a man unpaid who sills
His goods to those who cannot pay all that he asks.”
And the knocker Don took and in danger did bask.
“Bang! Bang!” went the door, for the knocker was large,
And soon through the door the great ogre did barge.


“You’re who?” said the ogre with a gleam in his eye,
Don answered him not, but gripped his staff for to die,
He lifted his staff and the ogre did see,
What looked like the trunk of a very large tree
Coming down on his head, but he sidestepped instead,
And grabbed for Don with his sharp, horrible claws.
Don stepped aside fast, and rapped him but good,
And the ogre did fall right where he had stood.


Out the queen she did run, the good Don to see,
And a punishment fitting she did decree,
On the ogre who had kept her so painfully,
For all of Don’s bills she then transferred you see,
To the ogre who lay in the depths of the wood.
But Don she did wed; and he found he could
Buy what he would, yet now he could pay,
And Don lived quite happily on from that day.

And sometimes

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