The Dragons Of Avordshire
Tiffany T.J. Craig and Zoe A. Craig
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2011 Tiffany T.J. Craig and Zoe A. Craig
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In a time a
while back,
There lived a man called Harold Sprack.
Harold was
a silly fool,
Who never followed a single rule.
He lived and
played his whole life through,
And owned nothing, not even a
shoe.
He had no plans to change, no reason to really,
Until he
ran into Mrs. O'Neally.
She was an
old lady who lived out of town,
Up on a hill which she rarely
climbed down.
But on this day, she ventured out,
Not expecting
to be run over by an ignorant lout.
Harold jumped to his feet,
shouting profanities,
And even questioned the old woman's
sanity.
He walked off slowly, bare feet making dust,
Not
realizing an apology was expected, a definite must!
O'Neally sat
up and stared after Harold.
"Young Sprack," she
whispered, "you will soon pay,
For you do not realize you
are dealing with fey."
To her home
she sauntered, set with intent,
And brewed a spell, which to
Harold was sent.
The magic flew swiftly and soon met its
mark,
Appearing to Harold in the form of a lark.
"Young
man," the bird squawked, "on you, youth is wasted in every
way,
No rest will you know till forty dragons you slay."
The
lark disappeared with a poof,
To which Harold though, what a
spoof!
Forty dragons? No way!
Why, that could take an entire
day.
He took no heed of what the bird said,
And wandered off,
in search of a bed.
When Harold
awoke the next day,
He felt in a most peculiar way.
Nothing he
touched held any sensation,
It was like he'd lost all
animation.
His mind full of worry, he raced through town,
On
his way to see Doctor Brown.
"Help me! Help me!", Harold
cried,
But he felt nothing, no matter what the doc tried.
"My
boy," Brown said, "I know what is wrong,
But you must
answer this question, it won't take long."
"Into Mrs.
O'Neally did you happen to run?
And of her did you make
fun?"
Harold nodded, looking meek,
He knew whose help he'd
have to seek.
So out of
town he trudged, up her hill and to her door,
Thinking this to be
a most tedious chore.
He knocked three times and when she came
out,
Began to cry and even pout.
To Mrs. O'Neally he said,
"This just isn't fair."
To which she replied, "I
really don't care.
You acted a jerk,
So now, your duties you
shall not shirk.
Forty dragons you will slay,
Or this is how
you will stay!"
"I will not do it!", Harold stated,
"I will not perform this task you've created!"
Mrs. O'Neally
nodded, she'd expected this,
Harold had always been a stinky old
fish.
"You will perform this task you say you won't,
For I
know something that you don't.
Every two hours, till your work is
through,
You will lose something dear to you.
Already you've
lost your touch, next is sight, hearing, smell and taste,
You must
hurry, boy, there's no time to waste!"
There was no
room for argument, this Harold knew,
So he set off to make his
coupe.
Over the mountains and down in the valley,
All the way
to Dragon Alley.
He could see them all clearly from where he
hid,
Feeling very much like a scared little kid.
Gathering his
courage, he pulled his sword, and yelled with all his might,
But
right at that exact moment, he lost his sight.
He wanted to
give up, he wanted to run,
But Harold knew what had to be done.
So
down he charged, swinging his sword,
Shouting out prayers to the
Lord.
Thump! Boom! Crash! He heard them fall,
Maybe, he
thought, this isn't so bad after all.
And then, Harold heard
something he hadn't before…
What was that laughing in the midst
of war?
But before he could question it, or think what to do,
He
lost his hearing, too.
What Harold
didn't know was, no matter how hard he'd tried,
Not a single
dragon had died.
Dragons were rolling all over the ground,
They
thought Harold the funniest thing around.
Hours later,
his sense of smell gone,
Only one dragon stood standing, and all
he did was yawn.
Poor Harold! What could he do?
He had no idea
how many were left, surely just a few.
How to search, there was
only one way,
So he stuck out his tongue and began to pray.
Surely,
thought the dragon, he does not intend,
To stick that thing upon
my skin!
But, that's just what he did, which caused an uproar of
laughter,
The dragon fell down, and Harold's sensed returned soon
after.
He saw the dragons, heard their fits,
And thought,
well, this certainly is the pits!
A noise
behind him made him turn,
What he saw made his stomach churn.
Mrs.
O'Neally walked up beside him,
"Well, Harold," she said,
"You really did slay 'em."
My point
is…
When you act mean and cruel,
You only make yourself look
like a fool.
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