"The Lay of Sir Carrot (Poem)" by Amy ´Insom´ Downum

Sir Carrot. Was ever there a greater purveyor of vegetable justice? Nay! For he was the most valiant, the most brave, and he hath, though he doth deny it, the skill of two carrots! Armed with the fiercest of forged steel, the Sword of Justice, he set ruin to the lands, leagues he covered, ‘til villain and knave were vanquished ‘neath him! O, this fyne lad, he doth protecteth thee, though thou dost not know it. I pray of you, hearken the tale spun by this bawcock of vegetables! He hath footed many leagues, in good faith of an audience tonight. Hear the lay of Sir Carrot!

   ‘Tremble, vast and vicious, cunning beast, so wilde!

    Thine heart be hardened, thy talons cruel!

    But I shall not be made a fool.

    Come to me, meet thy blade!

    Face me now, in this glade!

    And we shall see who better is made!

   I am a politician of the sword!

   And quite the charmer with the word.

   For here and now I ‘dress sun,

   Spare my blade, spare blood from fateful run

   Down mirrored curves so silken sharp

   Sing through air like musician’s harp!

   Ha! Learn your lesson true!

   Beast beware, I’m after you.

   Ne’er too early shall morning dawn,

   Nor shall eve fall too quickly,

   For me, I conclude, till you are gone!

   Greedy lout, upon my sword I smite

   Your carcass down with all thy might!

   To lay in ruin upon the ground

   And laugh, what thunder! at that sound.

   I am mere a carrot, true indeed,

   Though blessed be these limbs with seedling speed,

   And ay, I have neither hounds nor swiftling steed,

   Yet still I best this demon’s speed!

   Revenge! O, sweet!

   Served cold on silver plate.

   ‘Tis only noon and yet the starlight shines,

   Brings us back to better times.

   Nay, no thoughts of yester year in my head,

   Whilst I slay this goblin dead.

   But remembrances of a cleaner day

   When his blood fouled not my blade!

   Repulsive thing, I’m done with thee!

   Rest as you were meant to be,

   Deep in earth, a tomb of slate,

   Sealed there by Carrot’s fate!

   O’er sheltered glen and dew-kissed vale

   Carrot knight hath flown to you!

   Thine ears hath harkened his rampant tale,

   And so good night, he bids to you, for once and for all, good tidings!

   Adieu!’