Brunhilde and Tim
Once upon a time,
Because that's how all good tales must begin,
There was man, boring as could be,
Tim the Baker, his bread was pure and perfect,
Many came from far and wide, to taste his fabled bread
Rich ones, poor ones, young, and old
His bread was magic, truth be told
Vast and ravenous was her fame
Brunhilde The Voracious Warrior, that was her name
On one Trial's night, the Voracious Horde set upon his town
And not a warrior to be found
Tim the boring baker set out with cart
He fed the horde, till they were full to heart
Tim, not an unwise man knew the hordes greed
Bread and milk would never sate their seed
Ward and Warrior fell to sleep, on a night sown in silver
Baker had a secret to keep, milk filled with poppy
Favored to wine and whisky to savor, Brunhilde lay living still
on mornings first tide, she stood up inside, a wake soon to be.
With battle and call she let out a cry, with none left to hear
Brunhilde quickly would stride, and demand the man who dare
In shallow pride, the town savoir arrived, meek, the man stood still
loaf in hand she pick up the man, he pointed to pitcher full
in silent wrath she tipped over glass and shattered the mans device
numbness cut, and soon she knew, the might of the man before
Bowing to him, gem in hand, by night they wed
And morn, brought calm to the savage storm
Because that's how all good tales must begin,
There was man, boring as could be,
Tim the Baker, his bread was pure and perfect,
Many came from far and wide, to taste his fabled bread
Rich ones, poor ones, young, and old
His bread was magic, truth be told
Vast and ravenous was her fame
Brunhilde The Voracious Warrior, that was her name
On one Trial's night, the Voracious Horde set upon his town
And not a warrior to be found
Tim the boring baker set out with cart
He fed the horde, till they were full to heart
Tim, not an unwise man knew the hordes greed
Bread and milk would never sate their seed
Ward and Warrior fell to sleep, on a night sown in silver
Baker had a secret to keep, milk filled with poppy
Favored to wine and whisky to savor, Brunhilde lay living still
on mornings first tide, she stood up inside, a wake soon to be.
With battle and call she let out a cry, with none left to hear
Brunhilde quickly would stride, and demand the man who dare
In shallow pride, the town savoir arrived, meek, the man stood still
loaf in hand she pick up the man, he pointed to pitcher full
in silent wrath she tipped over glass and shattered the mans device
numbness cut, and soon she knew, the might of the man before
Bowing to him, gem in hand, by night they wed
And morn, brought calm to the savage storm
Significance
Town Monument
Story Inscribed on the Plaque at the base of Korvas town fountain.
Item type
Book / Document
I like the layers and implicit history which come of this. The fact that this is a monument, and that it's delivered as a poem, really helps build an image of a town, a people, and the history around. I can quite imagine that this town, descendants of the Horde and the Natives, to be a very hearty and strong, but also civilized people—the best features from both groups. I really enjoyed this!
Check out my summercamp by going here and checking out any of my gold-star articles!
Thank you. I like to use poetry, it leaves a lot of room for baggage. Like the word boring, other words would feel better, but boring, really says a lot about how unimportant he is.