The Tale Of Mannock Bay

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A storm leaves some unwelcome guests. How will the townsfolk get rid of them. A poem told in almost bardic style.

Submitted: February 04, 2017

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Submitted: February 04, 2017



Tale Of Mannock Bay.


You are about to hear the story, the tale of Mannock Bay,

a story so fantastical that it will never fade away.


A storm it was approaching, one that raged for several days,

one that left it’s final mark in unsuspected ways.


The towns folk went out walking, to look for what was broken;

instead, they did discover that some monstrous things had woken.


Two of them, there seemed to be, that induced a deal of fear,

for no more was heard from those that dared to venture near.


Like some giant serpents, they reared up from the caves,

they were not affected by the gales or towering waves.


Their heads were really ugly, the sort that inspires disbelief,

and those mouths would open oh, so wide, full of razor teeth.


Their bodies seemed to stretch and stretch, they really were so long,

but unlike snakes, had tiny arms that looked hideous and wrong.


The Lord, he held a meeting to see what could be done

for sharing in their neighbourhood was certainly no fun.


He called out for volunteers that would go and slay the beasts;

the victorious would be honoured, and the Lord would hold a feast.


Now Sir Randalph had to try his luck, he’d ride out on his steed,

the sword that he would brandish would be sure to make them bleed.


But those monsters, they did not agree, those twins that came from hell,

Sir Randalph rode out confident but did not last out so well.


His horse returned so terrified, so scared and so blood-spattered,

but no one went to look for the knight, for he no longer mattered.


Sir Henry, next did volunteer, to go out armed with his bow;

he’d fire arrows from a distance so the beasts would never know.


Sir Henry was a brilliant shot, his arrows they hit true

but not the tiniest of damage did they manage just to do.


The monsters, they just pulled them out and tossed them all away,

then they reached out for Sir Henry, who they guessed did want to play.


They tossed him to each other, but soon they’d had enough

so they threw his body out to sea where the waves were still so rough.


The Lord and all the townsfolk, they really were distraught

for it seemed that in these creatures grips they were truly caught.


Then there fluttered in a faerie, one so frail and very small,

she volunteered her services, to be the saviour of them all.


She went out from that castle, with no weapons in her care,

she made her way so swiftly to the place of that fatal lair.


The monsters were affronted to be challenged by the fae

that they snapped and swooped, they growled aloud all throughout the day.


The faerie was quick and nimble, as she darted here and there

when their mouths snapped out to catch her all they found was air.


The wind quietened for a second, that really was a must

to allow the fae to sprinkle out that magical faerie dust.


The creatures were intoxicated, were drunk on magic clear and pure,

they thought they were attacking her but couldn’t quite be sure.


Instead it was on each other that they launched in to attack,

when realisation struck them it was too late to turn back.


They’d been lethal in their combat, they’d brought about their end.

A victorious parade to bring her home, the Lord did out there send.


The faerie’d won the battle with smoke and mirrors of confusion

the monsters couldn't work it out, succumbing to the illusion.


The feast was held that very night, that faerie’s name was Mae,

and they celebrate with holidays right up until this day!

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