Fantasy Poetry posted March 22, 2010 Chapters: Prologue 1 -2- 3... 

This work has reached the exceptional level
A crown of sonnets

A chapter in the book I Hereby Crown Thee ...

The Shadow of Mirth

by Fleedleflump


In darkest days, the legends surely tell,
when Evil's shadow casts a choking pall
and monsters roam the land, ugly and fel,
a hero will arise with wherewithal.

His fire will split the night like heaven's dawn,
his strength will vanquish any beasts of woe.
With justice in his hand, he'll smite Hell's spawn,
alight with righteous power and God's glow.

The darkness will retreat before his might
and once again the kingdom will know peace.
The hero's deeds will win the queen's delight;
a princess for his hand, and mighty feasts!

In merriment we'll toast to his success,
this hero come to clean the kingdom's mess.


"This hero, come to clean the kingdom's mess,
shall fight the beast, like Beowolf in the tales!"
the herald yelled, much to our Dave's distress;
another saga, fools to soon regale.

He tightened up his greaves, strapped on a sword,
and donned his horny helm without a sound
to any of the crowd hung on his word;
he knew the horror where his soul was bound.

'I'm like a whore in front of altar boys,'
he thought as hopeful faces filled his view.
Head full of angst, aloud with terror's noise;
the screams of fear inside. If but they knew.

The cowardice raged hard within his mind,
yet determined to Dave's courage unbind.


Yet determined to Dave's courage unbind,
the wicked beast chose right then to attack.
With rancid maw and eyes of mad design,
it feared the crowd then sat on a haystack.

Our Dave approached, a-scratching at his head.
"You'd better leave, or die right here," he said.
All twenty feet of monster roared with dread,
"I'll neither do, for this hay is my bed!"

The hero's sword unsheathed shone in the sun
as though the light fought on the side of Dave.
He smote the monster's knee, then turned to run
as claws swept shreds from any sense of brave.

The monster chased our hero round the town,
as screams rang out, accompanied by frowns.


As screams rang out, accompanied by frowns,
the beast called out in pleasure and it swelled.
It stopped to laugh and turned from grey to brown;
it grew as fear washed over it in yells.

Its muscles bulged like iron in the light,
distended claws cast shadows on the ground.
Our hero paused for breath after his flight
and watched it grow to terror's heinous sound.

An idea formed within his ailing brain,
and so Dave turned and ran with all his speed.
The beast let out a laugh of cold disdain,
anticipating smorgasbords of feed.

Saliva flying from its snarling face,
the monster gave a roar and then gave chase.


The monster gave a roar and then gave chase,
and followed Dave into a wooded glen.
As trees replaced a populated place,
our hero turned and smiled a smile of Zen.

He threw his sword aside and set his chin,
then balled his fists to rest upon his hips.
As fangs approached he swallowed his chagrin
and blew a kiss with wildly puckered lips.

The beast then halted, standing over Dave
and cocked its head just gently to one side.
"I took you for a Knight, man, not a knave,"
it said, "those macho men I can't abide."

Our hero looked into the monster's eye.
They shared a tear and knew that one must die.


They shared a tear and knew that one must die,
but for a moment both did show regret.
They each had roles to play, none could deny,
and blind as justice was, the laws were set.

The beast unleashed a roar of primal ire,
and with one swipe it tore our hero's guts
into a shower of ribbons, blood and mire,
and so he fell amongst the leaves and nuts.

Hysteria then drove into Dave's brain
and forced a laugh that struck the monster's ears.
It screamed and clasped its head against the pain
as giggles tore its mind and played on fears.

Our hero laughed in horror, his heart sank.
The beast roared out and steadily it shrank.


The beast roared out and steadily it shrank
until it was but seven inches tall.
Without the screams and fear to feed its bank
the laughing did its work and cast its pall

across the monster, turning it to naught.
The crowds arrived and trampled it to dirt
just as Dave's eyes turned heavenward, devout.
He'd done his job, and now life didn't hurt.

The story goes that laughter saved the day,
a happy truth as life returned to norm,
but not the deeper truth to fears allay;
that sacrifice can come in many forms.

He did this deed with heart, and did it well
in darkest days, the legends surely tell.

Share A Story In A Poem contest entry


I hope you enjoyed the read.

A crown of sonnets is seven sonnets which tell a tale. The final line must be the same as the opening line, and each sonnet must begin with the final line of the preceeding one. Crowns often take the form of an ode, addressed to a single person, but this is not a requirement.

I have dotted humour through the tale intentionally, in order to better impart the underlying meaning.

Mike :-)
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Save to Bookcase Promote This Share or Bookmark
Print It Print It View Reviews

You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.

© Copyright 2018. Fleedleflump All rights reserved.
Fleedleflump has granted, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.