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Page: Profile: Poetry
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Poem Specs
VxPoem ID: 3229
Category:
myth_legend
Posted: April 1st. 2004 5:10:33 AM
Views: 1240 |
King Arthur Chronicles: The Real Lancelot!
by Jemma Hawtrey
Age Group: Adult
Authors Note: This one is a 6 pager @ A4. I would suggest that you take a hard copy before reading it, as it makes it easier on the eyes. Enjoy!
Lancelot: The Man behind the Legend!
Another tale I shall weave
In wordplay of great skill
I’ll tell the long lost story
Of how another Hero was done ill
The story starts in mists of time
Far from this more civil day
And those of nervous habit
Would do well to look away
Our friend was born in 459
Maybe a few years either way
And he became famous for many things
As his life passed day by day
At first he was a fighter
And one both deft and quick
With fists or sword or hafted spear
His skill was hard to trick
In battle he would wade right in
With darting shining blade
And all his poor opponents
Into dog-food they’d be made
You would think in all of this
And all his mighty skill
He’d he happy in his job of work
Finding Vikings for to kill
But alas, alack and all of that
As the years they slowly passed
He found the work more tiresome
And found he couldn’t much be assed
He’d think about those awful nights
In soggy freezing tents
And that heavy clumsy armour
And the hours of queuing for the gents
So he cast about for something else
With which to fill his pockets and his time
And what he found soon after
Is the reason for this rhyme.
Our hero found tax collecting
While not popular its true
Contained all the happy elements
Of the things he liked to do
He’d work the sums of who owed who
And make the claims up every morning
His favourite piece of parchment
Was the red-figured final warning.
And on occasional happy days
Defaulters met the spike
To warn the other debtors
That their fate would be alike
Now one fine day out a-walking
Our hero spied a pub
He walked straight in “The Pick-Pocket”
Ordered a Measure and some Grub
Soon he got to chatting to those
At the bar assembled there
One of them quite disturbed him
With a very unnerving stare
He told them all his stories
Of battles here and there
And how he was sick of fighting
And that his purse was almost bare
It was the strangest of the party
The one with piercing stare
That followed him to a table
And unbidden took a chair
“Hello, dear boy, I’m Merlin,
And a stranger to this parts”
I am a friend to a distant king
And have skill in Arcane Arts
“I have been tasked to find a man
Of certain special skill
To cure my bosses’ bank account
Which I fear is gravely ill”
“I know your name, tis Lancelot
And I recognise your face
Your ability with money
Is infamous in this place”
He told our wilful hero
“I come to you in great need
Our investments are not healthy
And our money bags they bleed!”
They talked for many hours
Until our hero at long last agreed
To Camelot & Arthur’s aid
He’d ride his trusty steed
Well, by the time they got there
Things had gone from bad to worse
The company accounts and such
Were being loaded in a hearse
Lancelot he sat right down
Racked his brains for hours through
Then suddenly the answer came
Completely out of the blue
We’ll mortgage this fine castle
That covers the short term, true
But with that cash we’ll retrench
And find some other things to do
Now merchandise would sit right well
And rake in a pretty sum
But Art was looking sceptical
And Merle was looking glum
Just at that moment Guinivere walked in
And Lancelot’s jaw almost hit floor
He may have said, “Thank you my dear”
But his mind was thinking ‘phwoar’
But Guinnies’ eyes were open wide
The look in them something new
And a damp voice quietly whispers
“Oh hell, what am I going to do?”
She said “what about the children?”
If we do something for them
The rich and gullible parents
Will pay again, again and again
Now in all so far for this idea
Guin was never given credit
For an idea back in those days
Only existed if the men folk had it.
But in this verse I tell you true
It was Guinivere’s idea
It might have been natural talent
Or that she’d not been drinking beer.
So time it wends its merry way
And plans devised that day
Were built at speed and at low-cost
So parents would pay and pay
It all went well for many years
With money rolling in
But building rides on the cheap
Was really quite a sin.
The things began to fall apart
And fail in gruesome ways
And the little children’s funerals
Were rarely happy days.
Poor Guinnie she was quite distraught
After all it was all her idea
She took to wandering round like Isolde
And drinking too much beer
One day Lancelot found her
Drunk and not right in the head
So our fine upstanding hero
Helped the poor lass back to bed…
One thing led to another
They were both soon quite engrossed
And under his skilled tutelage
Her innocence soon was lost
Now while this little show played out
Camelot went from bad to worse
Auditors peering all about
And no Sceattas in the purse
But finally the inquest ends
With a minor admonition
But as the parks were all closed down
They were in poor financial position
The finally got some cash
From a nymph who was on the make
A rather odd looking creature
Who lived in a cold Welsh lake.
But her price my friends
Was very high and it pained Arthur so
For his prized invulnerable Scabbard
To the nymph it had to go
So disaster was averted
At least for some little time
But Lance & Guin, to balance the books
Needs must had turned to crime.
Money moved from place to place
Or was a skilled invention
To shore up the crumbling Camelot
And continue the pretension.
The two they worked frantically
To keep the financial story up
While all those nasty smelly knights
Went searching for some odd cup
But one sad day it all went bad
They were caught at more than maths
Art & Merle were not amused
But they got away by secret paths
But with both the skilled authors gone
The whole story fell apart
And soon it was plain and sad to see,
Camelot’s poor corrupted heart.
A final meeting at Badon Hill hotel
From the sad dispirited group
Waiting for the axe to fall
And the competitors to swoop
But my saddened friends
Our story does not end here
Because at that very time
Lance was cradling a beer
He’d gotten quite a payoff
When Chivalry went down the ways
And since he’d quit his consulting job
He had plenty of empty days
Our Hero drifted gently
Along with the passing years
Different jobs and different lovers
And innumerable beers
But it was many years to the forward
When he finally made his name
With the grift that made him legend
In the annals of ‘the game’
He’d moved far from Camelot
To the warmer brave new world
And in this electronic age
New opportunities soon unfurled
He worked as a CFO
In a company of worldwide fame
And had a little good luck
To meet an old friend working the game
The company name was Anderson
And the mark was well known too
What Lance & Merle got up to,
Bled the poor Investors blue
They got away with millions
And disappeared fast away
But none will ever find them
Feds searching through the day
For Lance has gone back home
To the hill beside the lake
Where first he started his career
As a Grifter on the make
He’s gone back to his old friend Art
And joined them at the sleep
But he’ll be back when they awake
Selling fake Rolex’ on the cheap
And there we leave our Hero
Curled up and snoring sweet
But please remember that smiling face
And if you see it on the street
Please, my friends remember…
Don’t let him near your balance sheet
Copyright Durin ab Iceni (Jon Marriage) 23:24 31/03/04
Author's Notes: Wes thu hal all,
This is the third in the 'King Arthur' saga series. Its a slight rewriting of the legends with a slight soupcon of my sarcastic sense of humour.
There is one word that very few people will know of in the poem. 'Sceattas' - This is the name of a unit of currency back in the days of Old English, it was used during the saxon period and therefore would fit better with the era I was aiming at.
I hope you like the poem, and as ever, drop me a line with what you think about it.
Ic grete eow ealle
Durin
Author's Location: Colchester, England
More Poems: Jemma Hawtrey has posted 70 additional poems- View them?
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