Disclaimer: It's poetry and I'm bad at it, but I always wondered what Worf's poem would sound like. Oh I also don't own star trek but I think everyone knows that already.

. . . . .

Of Giants and Defiants

. . . . .

"So." Jadzia said suddenly, setting down her fork. "Is it finished?"

"Is what finished?" Worf inquired.

"The poem you promised me?"

"Oh. That. Well. It's not finished yet."

"Worf! It's been nearly a week! How long am I supposed to wait?" She pleaded.

He smiled warmly then. "I am only joking. I finished it this morning."

"Well, let's hear it!" Jadzia sat perched at the edge of her seat, unfinished dinner getting cold before her.

"Computer! Lights!" The lights of his quarters dimmed except for the light of the candle on their table. Worf rose from his seat slowly, raised a fist to the air, and began to recite.

"Come! Surround our fire

I shall tell you what transpired

Though you'll feel perplexed

and undoubtedly vexed

At the level of cowardice

and unchecked avarice

Of the mighty giants

who overtook the Defiant.

Who shall rise against their might?

And prepare her men for the coming fight?

Behold! Queen Dax!

With neither Batleth nor Axe

nor sword, nor shield!

She bravely entered the field

and led her men to battle

To clear out the rabble

With torpedoes armed

And none her men harmed

they let no giant flee

she blasted her way to victory!

So, with careful decorum..." He looked down at his wife, whose chin rest in her hands and attention perfectly glued to his performance. "...I now end this poem."

"That was beautiful." She said wistfully. "Can I have a copy?"

"Lights!" his quarters lit once more. He relaxed his shoulders and lowered himself back onto his eat. "There is no copy."

"Can I have the original?"

"There is no recording of the poem. In fact, I have already forgotten half of it."

"What?! Worf!" She exclaimed.

"The poems of the best fights are never written down," Worf explained. "It would lessen its power."

"You mean I'll never hear it again?"

"You will not."

"I guess I'll have to wait until the next battle for another poem." She glared at her husband. "And hide a recorder in my pocket!"

"Do that, and I'll never write another."

"Okay, fine!" She laughed. "Have it your way."

She raised her blood wine in salutation. Worf raised his goblet in kind.

"To good wine, good poetry, and good company!"