The Bards of Bedlam Filk Library

The Pelican

By Tatiana Nikolaevna Tumanova
July A.S. XXXVIII (2003)
(with apologies to Edgar Allan Poe)

Once upon a tourney dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a bottle of beer and Scotch which I adore
While I bibbled, not quite bragging, suddenly there came a nagging,
As of someone who was ragging, ragging me to do a chore.
"'Tis my conscience," I muttered, "Ragging me to do a chore --
Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in a hot September,
When a warrior dismembered joined our circle after war.
Eagerly we shared our stories of both past and present glories
As we experienced satoris -- satoris born in blood and gore

Both of might and honor brilliant that can come from blood and gore --
Catalogued in fighter's lore.
And my brow it now did furrow as a thought within me burrowed,
Burrowed through me as a gopher it would bore
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I sat repeating,
"'Tis a hangover competing loudly with my tale of gore --
Just a hangover competing loudly with my tale of gore;
I need a drink and nothing more."

Presently I felt much stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Bird," said I,  "or Mistress, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was bragging, and so sweetly you came nagging
And persistently kept ragging, ragging me to do some chore,
That I scarce was sure you meant me" -- here I glanced towards the floor
Empties there and nothing more.

Long upon that pile peering, did I gaze with wonder, fearing,
That my headache on the morrow would be more fearsome than before;
But the silence would not linger, and like a bardic singer
With accusatory finger came the mistress with her chore.
Thus confronted, with great dread I murmured back, "You have a chore?"
Cringing deep and nothing more.

Into the chair now hunching, with my cloak about me bunching
Yet again I heard a nagging somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "you can recruit someone else that you can uproot
And upon whom you can impute virtues greater than before;
Let me be for now my head aches even greater than before; --
I fain would sleep and nothing more."

But the dreaded Bird stood waiting, with steely gaze unabating,
Just a Pelican awaiting as is told in days of yore.
Not the least concession made she, not a protest stopped nor stayed she,
But with gimlet eye assayed she did my fitness for the chore --
Laughed derision for my protests for my fitness for the chore --
Laughed, and stood, and nothing more.

Then the stubborn bird beguiling my drunk fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance she wore,
"Now begone and do not curse me as though I still were in the nursery,
For you lot should reimburse me as I've often said before --
When already I have labored long and hard to fight this war!"
Quoth the Pelican, "Do some more."

The West Kingdom History Website was created by and is maintained by Hirsch von Henford (mka Ken Mayer).