Saturday, 24 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 33) by Grant Harbison

In pelting rain and through sodden sludge
The absconding monks continued to trudge
Over endless hills and through glen after glen
Borium and Truman were very weary men
‘Borium, I must protest!” complained Truman. “It’s been far too long since we’ve had any rest.”
“No, we must continue to go. We’re in the Highlands and there isn’t far to go. The last thing we want is to get caught in snow.” 
“Oh yes, the land of Scots. Not on my list of holiday spots. Too many madmen and intolerable sots.”
“I’m afraid, dear Truman, this is no sojourn. The only alternative is to return and burn.”
All of a sudden they were completely surrounded
The hearts of the monks immediately pounded
“Who are ye and what is yer purpose in the glen?” asked one of the men. “Yer faces are ones ah dinnae ken.”
Borium and Truman felt their legs go weak
And just stared at the man
Unable to speak
“Answer me or ye’ll draw yer last breath. Do ye really want the pain o’ death?”
“Sir, our purpose is not one of treachery,” replied Borium. “We are merely on our way to the monastery.”
“Why should ah believe ye, Sassenach? Yer trespassing on the land o’ Lord MacBlach.”
“Sir, we are simple Brothers called Truman and Borium. At the monastery resides my cousin Deplorium.”
“In that case, ye are free to go. Ah ken the wee scoundrel, so yer definitely not foe.”
Relieved that they never provoked their wrath
Borium and Truman continued on their path 

No comments:

Post a Comment