An afternoon nap is an unspoken paradise, yet it remains elusive for me, thanks in no small part to my loyal, energetic partner at work—my playful dog, Bhuri.
Despite my determination to never compromise my sleep, I remain hopeless. My sister, otherwise known as a demonic creature, in a moment of creative inspiration, suggested that I try telling Bhuri a bedtime story, as if that might somehow make a difference.
Tired and at my wit's end, I decided to give it a try. I began narrating folk tales, hoping that these stories might lull Bhuri into a peaceful slumber. So, without further ado, I present to you the chronicles of the Fairy Tale.
Chronicles of the Fairy Fair Tale
A very long time ago, in the time of kings and queens,
There was a duke, a duke of nowhere-somewhere,
He was of royal blood, a distant one, but still the blood of the king,
He served no real purpose, but he was of the distant blood of the king,
He liked to gamble his income, which came from the people's hard-earned pennies,
He did as he pleased, for he was of the distant blood of the righteous king.
Oh, but how long shall the sun shine?
The sooner comes the darkness, the more we desire brightness.
Three years of famine and a not-so-benevolent rule by the duke brought some clouds over nowhere-somewhere,
But these were dark clouds, very dark clouds.
All the money was lost, oh, holy, all the duke's money was lost!
But what harm could come to him? For he was of the distant blood of the king.
The duke sent his men to the king for a mere two thousand gold coins,
Just two thousand gold coins for nowhere-somewhere.
At the same time, I shall tell you a story of someone-no-one,
He was the smartest man in all the land. There was no man smarter than him, even in distant lands.
He was so smart that he found a solution,
A solution to the famine that plagued nowhere-somewhere.
Oh, but the solution lacked, not in smartness, but in the little pieces of gold.
Those little pieces of gold could make the fields of nowhere-somewhere green again.
So the smart man wrote, wrote a letter to the king,
He begged for two hundred gold coins,
From the king, the justice above all.
The king's courtroom became busy that day,
Two men from distant lands came,
One demanding, the other begging.
The justice above all heard both men,
The king gave the distant blood of his,
A small sum of twenty thousand gold coins, for he was a nobleman,
The reason was noble, for he was of the distant blood of the king.
He listened to the beggar and thought, "What a scam!"
The justice above all wanted to help,
Oh, but he was short, short of little gold pieces.
Oh, goodness, old age is a curse,
But forgetfulness or God's grace was never known,
For the old noble misheard and accidentally switched the king's orders.
When the duke's man returned to the rocky dry land of nowhere-somewhere,
The duke was furious and angry, but what could he do, for he was of the distant blood of the king?
So did return the man of someone-no-one,
He brought a huge trunk, a trunk filled with twenty thousand little gold pieces.
"How gracious of the king," thought someone-no-one,
"He indeed was justice above all."
Comments
Post a Comment