Triquetra

An Ancient Prophecy; A New Generation

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The Tale of Elle

Posted by TriqqyBird on March 31, 2011 at 12:08 PM

Listen to this tale I say
Of a once poor girl named Elle.
She was quite fat,
With twenty cats,
And for a jackass she had fell.

She questioned him ev’ry day
To see if he had desired
A marriage bind
Yet she did find
A change in herself required.

“Will you marry me, my sweet?”
“Never, you cow, I will not;
You’re poor and fat
With twenty cats
Plus halitosis you have got.”

Upon his words, she let loose
Her cats to man and child
Well some she sold,
To young and old
With others left in the wild.

“Could we be wed now, my dear?”
“Never, you dog, we will not;
You’re poor and fat
Yet gone, your cats
Still, halitosis, you have got.”

She exercised night and day,
In hopes the wait would abate
She worked real fast
And then, at last
She had reached a thinner weight.

“Will you wed me now, pumpkin?”
“Never, you hen, I will not,
Though fat no more,
You are still poor
And halitosis you have got.

The in time, her pa did die,
And granted to her, some coin.
So now it be
She had money
And the upper class she could join.

“Shall we marry now, cupcake?”
“Yes, my hon, we shall for real
You’ve gained some wealth,
And perfect health,
The halitosis I will deal.”

“Why would I want your love?” she asked,
As her sense came back to mind

“There is a mate
To tolerate
My bad breath and him I will find.”

“Why can’t we marry?” asked he
Confusion he did express

“Easy,” she said
“Why would I wed
The least when I could have the best?”

 


Categories: Spells/Poetry

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