An Epic Poem of Death and Tragedy in Three Parts
PART THE FIRST: Arthur's Introduction
A long time ago, or so it may seem,
There lived a young boy with an admirable dream.
He wanted to be, so the stories all tell us,
One of the best of those 'medical fellows.'
To achieve such a goal, he bent all of his being-
Until medical books he was constantly reading.
And as a result of this constant absorption,
His vocabulary increased in amazing proportion.
Alas for his listeners, they found to their horror,
That his blithering dialog put them into a stupor.
He blathered on endlessly about this, that, and the other.
About cows, and horses, and pigs, and of doves, about morals, religion (and loving ones' brother).
He would also expound on his medical loves-
Needless to say, people left him in droves.
But Dr Arthur Forester (it was this he was called)
Went blithely on, not a care in the world.
He was engaged to a Lady, but supposedly died
-Of a fever in India, which turned out to be false- much to people's chagrin and many cried:
"Oh can no one around save us from his pomposity?
We don't ask for much, just a little viscosity-spill his blood if you must,
And grind him to dust-
Just get rid of him you must!"
Alas for the world, this task seemed impossible,
And they all resigned to, as much as was possible,
Simply ignore his pompous old blatter.
And people would smile when Arthur would natter.
It was a smile that spoke volumes and said:
"Why oh why is this git not dead? !"
But Arthur went on, leading his happy old life, with
His fiancée Muriel-who now was his wife.
They were suited quite well for each other, no doubt-
For Muriel enjoyed his lectures without
Resorting to drinking-a feat in itself.
(I couldn't do it-grabs whiskey off shelf)
But I think by now you all probably have guessed
That Dr Arthur Forester will soon be quite the interesting mess.
PART THE SECOND: Arthur Goes On A Walk, and Meets A Strange Creature.
It was late in the summer, the sky a bright blue,
And Arthur could feel his hope start to renew.
He had laid abed, body burning with fever,
And his one constant thought was:
'Will I give up? Never!'
For he was determined to live a long life,
Safe in the care of his caring young wife,
With nary a sign of stress or of strife.
He quickly grew bored of lying about,
And decided that it was high time to go out
Into the world, and rejoice in the sun,
For he was alive, and not dead and gone.
He started to walk down the old garden trail,
When he suddenly heard an earsplitting wail.
It seemed to come from every direction,
And the good doctor listened in grave affectation.
"I must see what that was", he said with affection,
And he quickly turned off in a thataway direction.
He walked for a while, admiring the scenery,
And whistled a tune about abundance and greenery,
That would cause any who heard it to moan in great agony.
"The trees they are green/and so is my heart/
For all I have seen/is the meaning of Art/
I am not a Fatalist/But rather a Theist/
And one of these days I may be a Deist/
I am the best doctor in all of existence/
And by god there's no one with my brand of persistence/
I will live to be a hundred, nay, maybe two/
All this I have dreamed/and this will I do."
He was bought out of composing that horrible chorus
When he discovered he had entered a forest.
He was a bit scared at first, but plowed bravely onward,
Thinking, I'm sure, that he'd be rewarded.
He followed the path as it twisted and turned,
And noticed the trees looked horribly burned.
'Surely there must be disaster where I'm heading,
They will need the help of this great man of medicine!"
He didn't get far, for blocking his way,
Was the strangest thing he'd seen in many a day.
It was a tall creature with green grayish fur,
And silver scales on its' back.
It looked at the human and gave a loud purr,
And flexed its' sharp talons, and showed its' sharp fangs,
And Arthur just gaped-until the very first pangs
Of fear and confusion passed over his face.
"Dear God" he cried out, "What is this horrid place?
And what is that creature that looks so severe?
I must surely be dreaming, and in the grips of my fever.
Well, I take comfort in knowing that my lovely young wife,
Will bring me back soon to my normal old life.
Therefore, you monster, I'm not a bit wary,
In point of fact-you're not even scary."
The monster just blinked, and then laughed very slow.
"You think you are dreaming? You really don't know
Anything do you, my poor little snack,
I'm afraid that you will never get back.
You see, dear Arthur, you were meant to have perished,
In that village in India and few people have cherished
Your return to the world, so I was consulted,
And I don't need to tell you what has resulted."
Arthur shook in fear and confusion,
And the monster laughed-he found it amusing.
"I suppose you are wondering what is about to ensue?
Well, it won't be too pleasant, at least not for you.
As to how you got here, I conjured this trail,
Knowing you'd follow my 'helpless old wail'.
I leave nothing to chance when it comes to Death Cheaters,
For I am the JibbaJub, Eater of Cheaters."
With his speech at last finished, he stepped forward with a groan,
And bit Arthur's leg right down to the bone.
The sickening crunch caused Arthur to scream:
"OH PLEASE LET ME WAKE FROM THIS HORRIBLE DREAM!"
But alas for poor Arthur, the dream was quite real,
And he had become the JibbaJub's meal.
PART THE THIRD: The Conclusion, or-Thank God the Blithering Idiot is Gone.
He never was found, and all thought him lost.
'Perhaps he returned to India to die,
And while at sea his ship was tossed
About in a storm, and he fell overboard,
Swallowed up by the sea,
This was not a great loss.'
Muriel mourned for seven long years,
But everyone else when they heard gave
"Three Cheers!"
And now I come to the end of the line,
And most humbly ask-How was my rhyme?