Tuesday 8 February 2011

Lycanthropy

This is a little poem that I wrote some time ago.  For some reason I seem to have developed a fascination for werewolves (Lycanthropy means the transformation of humans into wolves).  I have no idea why, but this poem follows similar lines to The Big Night Out that I posted earlier.  Anyway, here it is for anyone who is interested.



Lycanthropy
I’ll tell you of a Saturday the 19th of July
When the full moon shone down coldly like a blind accusing eye.
I was sitting reading quietly before my old log fire
And the tongues of flame licked softly at the dead wood on the pyre. 
I could hear the noise of night creatures, the hooting of an owl
And then far in the distance a wolf began to howl.
I knew then that my time had come, that I must surely change,
As my old familiar features began to rearrange.
I could feel the fur start growing from my head down to my tail
(Which didn’t fit inside the suit I’d bought in Burton’s sale).
With a rip my suit gave way and fell down to the floor,
And so I padded silently out to my own front door.
Just then my wife came down the stairs and said “Is that you Fred?”
I tried to say “It’s only me”, but gave a bark instead.
My wife, dear absent minded thing, mistook me for our dog
And let me out to go and do my thing against a log.
Then with a bound I leapt the gate and landed on my paws.
My ears were pricked, my tail was high, my tongue hung from my jaws.

Well morning came and I was slowly making my way home,
Thinking what a change it made to be allowed to roam.
I stopped off at a lamppost (I simply had to go)
But was spotted by a constable who said “Hello, hello
“What is it with you perverts running naked in the street?
“You’d better put my helmet on, you should be more discreet”
“I’m only lycanthropic; you can’t bust me for that”
“You say that word again” he said “I’ll take away my hat.
“Not only are you standing there with nothing on at all,
“You’re also swearing at me now, my word you’ve got some gall”

Well they took me and they charged me and the court fined me as well
And my wife thinks I’m a lunatic as far as I can tell.

The moral of the tale is clear, if you’re a lycanthrope
On full moon nights when change is nigh you’ve got to try to cope
With staying in and making do with howling at your wife,
‘Cause being caught without your pants can really spoil your life.

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