The Brave Little Tailor
The Brave Little Tailor
It was a morning, buoyant and bright,
And our tailor sat and sewed.
A jovial jam-seller came in sight,
And the tale’s seeds were sowed.
A single pot of jam was bought and sold,
To be layered onto bread.
Upon this bread loaf landed a fly bold,
Six more joined it to be fed.
The tailor rose in a fearsome uproar,
And fell upon the foul flies.
He raised his hand, and with no weapon more,
Went about the flies’ demise.
With a blow, merely one, he smote them down,
He then staggered, quite impressed,
“Seven with one blow!”, cried he, to the town,
And set out on a grand quest.
On velvet sash he stitched his splendid deed,
Seven with one blow!, it said.
Of this feat, the entire world would pay heed!
And through him, the word would spread.
First, up he went to the mountain’s high peak,
And met a monstrous giant.
The giant saw the sash of this man weak,
And, though shocked, was defiant.
“Seven, you say? What an astounding claim!”
“A claim, of course, I must test.”
The tailor nodded, desperate for fame,
And it began, the contest.
“Strength is most important, that I will test”
The giant compressed a rock,
Yet the Tailor merely smiled, with zest,
And crushed cheese, to immense shock.
“I admit, that you win. But more remains!”
He held a tree trunk aloft,
Yet the little Tailor used brains,
And then jumped on, his coat doffed.
“Finally, the deciding test”, he announced,
And threw a rock to a height.
The tailor up to a nearby tree flounced,
And released a bird to flight.
The giant scowled, defeated utterly,
Or at least he so believed,
He invited him truly bitterly,
To his cave, very aggrieved.
That night, he crushed the Tailor’s mammoth bed,
Who, in fact, slept under it,
And when the morning came, ran off in dread,
Where he was not hurt a whit.
The King, terrified of this brave hero,
Plotted to be rid of him,
And, being akin to cruel, harsh Nero
Did this with a promise in purpose grim.
“His daughter and half the kingdom” he said
“If the hero would but slay two giants”
They were gigantic, and all from them fled,
From knights to those suppliant.
Yet, of course, our dear hero accepted.
And hid in a tree they pass.
He threw edged rocks, which were intercepted.
And always tried to harass.
The giants accused each other with ire,
It promptly came to a brawl,
And they soon drowned in the tenebrous mire,
A great success, all in all.
Hence, the tailor then became the crown’s heir,
And settled down, aim achieved.
Yet, his true past the princess heard him share,
In a deep sleep, and she grieved.
On one night, the Tailor feigned a sound sleep.
For, outside his flimsy door,
The princess’ servants did quietly creep,
And try to ship him to war.
“Flee!”, he said to the servants just outside
“I killed seven with one blow!”,
“Killed mighty giants beyond count!”, he lied
“And will not fear a base foe!”
From Tailor, to Warrior, to Hero, to King!,
The Tailor was capable of anything.
Poet’s Note: This was my first real attempt at creating a narrative poem, so I attempted to start off simply, by transforming one of Grimm’s Tales into a poetical form, a quirky, humorous tale. I used a relatively simple rhyme scheme, and also completely refrained from an Iambic Meter of any kind. I’d love to hear some feedback, it’s a rough and “clunky” poem currently, which parts in particular are the worst, and need to be improved on?