Goldie Locks and the 3 Bears

A poem in the style of Edgar Allen Poe

‘Neath jeering trees of seeping mould, listen close to my tale untold

Years I've starved living amongst curiously old trees

To acquire a plum safe for eating, a mocking chance so fleeting,

My heart began greedily cheating, cheating life for porridge warm

With that sweet wafting smell, beckoning me to implore

While creeping cross their cabin floor

Once upon a sunrise's drizzle, I stumbled upon the empty home of a grizzle

A grizzle a ferocious bear, a bear of pride and splendor

With the cabin door ajar, I crept into a scene so bizarre

I approached from a far, from a far to reveal a table

A quivering nerve left my step so unstable

Unstable my step, as I crept on the floor

The sleeping dust settling on the lonely cabin floor

The Grizzle's snug cabin was barren of life

‘cept for three mocking bowls lay steaming!

Steaming on the timber table, somewhat like a familiar fable

Eagerly awaiting to be used for spooning,

A spoon lay shining, ‘GOLDIE!' my name it was crooning

Crooning so loud it beckoned me for my core

And I staggered to its side, cross the creaking cabin floor.

The first bowl cast burning, ‘twas not of my yearning

Yet so swiftly the tide turning, turning the second bowl cold

So cold I felt sick with regret, ‘Damn thee porridge of trickery!'

I shrieked,' till the third bowl spotted, ‘How could I forget!'

The sweet honey bliss, met my lips like a kiss

A kiss so sweet loving my head to my feet,

Enticing my senses for more and more

My toes writhe with glee against the cold cabin floor

With the balmy bowl barren and my big belly bounteous

3 chairs, I spied, with my envious eye, 3 chairs for me to secretly try

The first, although hefty, enchanted me not,

As the seat for my haunches ‘twas not the spot

The second was luring, heavenly cushions softly stirring

But sank did I! For the seat proved to yielding

And from royalty to rags my shamed buttocks quite sore

with a loud ‘THUMP' I fell helpless on the cold cabin floor.

Now after years of sleeping amongst clammy cutting crud,

A cunning idea tiptoed into my wits, and settled and stirred

Till mind my went a blitz,

Oh how I desired to curl up warm in a bed...

I thought of this more, more and more, that I did.

My eyes grew weary, the idea of bed less then dreary

I picked up my feet, to the staircase of yore

And embarked upwards amid the cold cabin floor

I fell upon the first bunk I beheld,

No desire I wished for testing, my beaten body in need of nesting

Nesting among the crevices of blankets, attesting, attesting the comfort

of a bed so besting, I lay resting, resting, and nesting

Until the angels carried the sun to a bed of its own, as gentle winds were blown,

they carried her ‘neath the rolling hills of galore

Not a sound was creaking cross that old cabin floor

My serenity was cruely then cut short by the strike of a clock

The grizzles came home, way past the midnight moon had shone

And hungry for porridge, which they found not

For I had been greedy, my hungry eyes beady

Beady for the porridge I gulped, whilst still it steamed hot

Their anger amassed more, when they found me a snooze in the nest

Not pleased to find me, and unwanted guest

‘OUT!' they cast me, back to the haunting evergreens of the vast forest's core

Leaving me longing, longing, to walk on the creaking cabin floor once more

Once more, once more, on the cold cabin floor,

On the cold cabin floor, I shall walk nevermore.