At Castle Grymm

‘All that I do is eat and sleep,’

The surly monster said,

Chewing away on a piece of thigh

From the woman in his bed,

He sat in the tower of Castle Grymm

And surveyed the countryside,

And the pile of bones by the Castle walls

That he’d tossed, once they had died.

His hair was clean but his skin was green

As a tear squeezed from his eye,

Pondering what his bride might be

And who, and where, and why,

The villagers sent him virgins up

But they weren’t quite to his taste,

A single bite and they screamed in fright

So he ate the rest in haste.

His goblins scoured the countryside

For a girl with golden hair,

The myth had said she would be misled

And her steps would lead her there,

But every blonde in the neighborhood

Had fled, as if forewarned,

Leaving only the russet crop

Or the brunette’s that he scorned.

They printed a notice in the town

And pasted on every wall,

It said that Igor would never eat,

Not once, a blonde, at all.

It said that he wanted just one bride

A blonde, to stop his moans,

But everyone saw the Castle walls

And the heap of gnawed on bones.

He even offered a huge reward

For any who’d bring him in,

The golden girl to his Grymm old world

He would give them gold to spin,

So some with greed in their eyes set out

To trap a golden girl,

And drag her up to the Castle Grymm,

That girl was known as Pearl.

Somebody said they were on their way

So she painted on her skin,

What some old witch said would bewitch

Igor and the Brothers Grymm,

They dragged her up to the topmost tower

Where the monster kept his bed,

And chained her up in his inner bower

Till the monster could be fed.

His eyes had gleamed when he saw the sheen

Of her silken golden hair,

He reached on down beneath her gown

Where he felt her skin so fair,

She lay and shuddered within his bed

As he bent to take a lick,

Then screamed a note as he clutched his throat

And doubled up, was sick.

They say Igor let out a roar

Like the folks had never heard,

He’d only munched on his own before

Wouldn’t mutter a single word,

But now he jumped from the parapet

With his mouth and his throat on fire,

To land himself on the pile of bones

That would be his funeral pyre.

So here is the nub of the story,

If you’re looking for a bride,

Forget about the colour of hair 

For they’re all the same inside,

And when you come to that bridal night

Just be careful who you pick,

Or give her a scrub in that wedding tub

Before you begin to lick.

David Lewis Paget

Reviews

[A Soap Mess Stories]

A comical, yet mysterious read....good tale...David...

[D Connolly]

This one made me laugh! So good!

[Mary Helda]

Very witty, a really good write

[M. L. F.]

David, David, David...... LOL. This one is really gritty and funny. Nice write. :)

[Barbz]

Don't go to Castle Grymm for a bite if you're a Blonde, particularly! Unless, of course if you're on a diet and want some meat taken off your bones. But seriously, this well written, perfectly rhymed and metered poem is humorous, yet a bit gory! Your last stanza is quite a kick...I was thoroughly amused and will always remember this one with a smile...Great work, as usual DLP. Barbz100

[Jane Winters Rogers]

good one, a taste of fun, the girls, (except Pearl) seen through the hungry Igor lol God help them!

[Valentine]

This was a bit too much to take in, it has great flow, holds the interest and the ending tops it off. Reads like you are getting your muse back. Valentine One of your best writes although gruesome.

[KT-B]

Bravo I enjoyed this and did not expect that ending... great write - best wishes