The Tale Of Sir Gemund
Written by TheWhiteKnight   
Wednesday, 15 September 2010

 

Some of you will note the similarities in certain verses to those in the Ogre Kingdoms book, rest assured, the verse was created before my reading of this, so it is not inspired by that. Only that final verse is based upon the last stanza of the Ogre Kingdoms Poem, as i could'nt think of a way to end it.

Many Thanks

 

The White Knight

 

 

PS: took me 10 minutes to write that! 

 

Pray hark! To brave Sir Gemund’s tale,

Who travelled far too a darkened vale,

To slay an ogre, fiend or drake,

And meet the lady of the lake.

 

 

Dismounting now, Sir Gemund strode,

Further still, up mountain roads,

From nooks and crannies: hungry eyes,

Did stare upon his fearsome guise.

 

And thus it was an ogre most foul,

Stepped forth: and gave the most fearsome a howl!

“I’ll grind yer bones, to make my bread!”

Brave Knight replied “I’ll have your head!

 

Sir Gemund charged with greatsword raised,

With downward stroke, the ogre was grazed!

The most cruel weapon came arcing down

Then landed squarely upon bestial crown…

 

There came a grizzly snapping sound,

and ogre head rolled to the ground.

But Gemunds tale ends not by foul knell,

for in darkened vale a banshee dwelled!

 

The loathsome fiend came forth from the knoll

Enticed by the ogres thunderous fall!

And to the brave knight, the horror did glide, 

Like some loathsome, evil tide

 

Sir Gemund leapy into the fray,

And I beg yea, do not dismay:

For Gemund’s tale is one of joy!

Remember: his sword ‘twas not a toy.

 

So it was, foul banshee there,

Fell into the greatest of despairs, 

For truth be told, she’d had met her match

And soon she became but a smouldering patch

 

Forgot though, Sir Gemund, the Ogre Louse

Did, in fact, have a gruesome spouse!

And she, with a rage that brought haste,

Pounded poor Gemund to foul paste.

 

His guts were gobbled then and there

The rest, dragged back to ogre lair.

Sir Gemunds heart, both brave and true,

Took pride of place in a boiling stew

 

His arms were chewed, while his fingers stewed

‘pon hotplates made of Gemund’s shoes

Bones were snapped, and marrow bled

Then ground down for ogre bread

 

Chain mail fitted ogre’s arm

A goblyn took his lady’s charm

His greatsword once a weapon dire

Now spitted deer ‘pon open fire

 

And so it was that Gemund’s fate

Was met upon an ogres plate.

Let ye be warned, if vale-ward bound

Pray take some friends, lest ye be found!

 

-Aaron Newbury, the tale of Sir Gemund

 

 

Last Updated ( Thursday, 16 September 2010 )