Monthly Archives: April 2017

The tale of Old Esmé

Old Esmé dwelled in the forest so deep
Leaves dimming light for darkness to keep
Sorrowful secrets that caused her to weep
and lash out in anger and pain

Alone and abandoned, no deeds to forsake
Enthroned on veranda she shivers and shakes
When in roams a wandering slithering snake
who says he can hide her from shame

Was she right, was she right
to listen that night
Was she right, knowing snakes may bite

The snake said to Esmé, as it lay by the fire
‘Now that you’ve blessed me, with a hiss and a smile
I vow to protect thee, fulfil thy desire
and ward off inquisitive strangers’

For many long years, the snake kept its word
It fought off hyenas and hunters and birds
any who may come to unearth the interred
And all who come wishing to change her

Was she right, was she right
to help herself sleep at night
letting snake choose whom he should bite

Sat safe within bricks, on a warm patch of dirt
Distant snapping sticks puts the snake on alert
His mind transfixed, ‘She cannot be hurt!’
he slips out, with night as his cover

Awoken by shouts and gargling screams
Esmé rushes out, still half in her dreams
Among the bushy sprouts, the result of her schemes
The snake and her dear murdered brother

Was she right, was she right
to keep herself safe at night
Was she right, knowing snakes can bite

Tagged , , , , , , , , , , ,