This my response to this week’s Terrible Poetry challenge to create an epic poem about a great adventure.

 

Upon a nonce, amidst general farnarkerling,

a fair maiden did set her sights

on a handsome prince in tights

so she could wear his ring a’sparkling.

 

In her way, as was her feckless fancy,

she feigned to plight her troth

to a handsome Visigoth

known as Screaming Nancy.

 

The handsome prince, with heart full sick,

swore and swore and swore and swore

that up with this he would not forbore

and plotted war, down to the last tooth and pick.

 

He gathered full his skirtling Scots all skittish

and filled his lungs

and spoke in tongues

of once more defending the breeches of the British.

 

Come battle day, his fulsome steed he mounted

and waved his sword

around the sward

then charged the Nancy boys uncounted.

 

Full well sounded the irony ring of wrath

‘gainst shields both stout and flimsy

‘til the prince’s tilt proved but whimsy

and he was vanquish-ed by the Visigoth.

 

The maiden shed a seemly tear or two

then plighted her troth

to the Visigoth

known as Screaming Nancy.

 

Footnote: The couple died without issue and the kingdom came under the demesne of the Angle-grinders, followed by the Saxons (aka the Sax Collectors) and then the Holy Roman Umpire.