Heroic Cutlets

To my certain Norwich, not since school daze have I composted a pome in heroic cutlets. Hand to hart, pen to paper, it's just not my stylo. Those neat rose of foot soldiers, ranks of the iambic pent amateurs... te tum te tum te tum te tum te tum. Good lord, te deum!

Only once have I, even Steven, ventured 'remotely close' - now there's a poxymoron - to writing a comic pome in rhyming pears and that was tenures ago. You can find it here:  Death By Chocolate, defiantly not heroic!

Nerveless, just for today, I'm going full heroic cutlets. Think of this new pome as a spiritual prequel to the one linked above. Read my home groan tail and weep. Chop chop!

A Savoy Savory

There was a village in the south of France

much troubled by the native boars' advance.

Down from the Alps the tusky porcines swarmed,

searching out troubadours where they performed

in squares and halls, for boars hated music,

roused them to a spiteful pitch of physic

and an urge to purge all such antic sounds.

Even when the minstrels had gone to ground

the hyped up beasts laid waste to all around,

and this one village in Savoy they found

so much to their liking, they chose to stay!

The frightened folk hid in their church to pray

for deliverance from this massacre.

The pigs meanwhile munched all the brassica,

a staple of the region's cabbage soup.

While the citizens huddled in a group

came riding by a Knight of the Long Knives

accompanied by his two lovely wives.

They saw at once what needed to be done

and laid about them till the final one

of the squealing, charging, mad-eyed tuskers

crusading against the tribe of buskers

was flung atop the bloody pile! Starving

villagers rejoiced, joined in the carving

by their Hero and his couplet of dames

(though history does not record their names)

then built a massive fire with orange flames

and while the chops were grilling they played games

of 'blind man's buff' and other lively sports -

'squeak, piggy, squeak', 'defender of the forts' -

until such time as everything was prepped.

Then to their seats the grateful peasants stepped.

They tucked into the butchers' prime cutlets

(for vegans the wives provided nutlets :-)

and most said roast boar chops with rosemary

were quite the thing, though a few were chary,

but everyone agreed they feasted well.

Here ends my tale, there is no more to tell.

Thanks for reading, S ;-)

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