Bram's Tale

Bram's Prologue

There was once a dark man, sturdy and tall

who would not ever harm a soul at all.

His name was Bram; soft like his hands

and he came from a fam’ly of poor lands.

He married a girl when he was twenty;

a youthful lass from great lands of plenty.

Though Bram tried to support her, he could not

give her all those things that he felt he ought.

During his twenty-fifth year, Bram was in

the street when a small boy sprinted past him.

Behind the boy, a man was in pursuit.

He caught the boy and kicked him with his boot.

The boy was arrested for taking bread,

but Bram stood up, said to take him instead.

So Bram was thrown in prison for ten years

and his wife left him without shedding tears. 

Since, Bram’s been released, with a brand on’s arm

to mark his shame as a man of great harm.

Strangers would treat him with hateful disdain,

ignoring the fact of his blatant pain.

Now he journeys across lands far and wide

in hopes to find himself a blushing bride.

And maybe while he’s searching for a wife,

he’ll find himself a second chance at life.

Bram’s Tale

There was a girl in a faraway place

who had blond hair and an innocent face.

All her life she grew up with the one thought:

it’s easy to judge what is and what’s not.

All she’d do was look at one’s outer shell

and whether good or bad, she’d surely tell.

But then one day her faculties did err,

and led her to lose her beautiful hair.

The girl was honored to attend a ball,

a ball that wasn’t by any means small.

Preparations were a major affair.

Of course the girl must take pains for her hair.

She decided to hire a good stylist

and she looked through the names on the “high” list.

She scheduled meetings with three of the top

to choose one worthy to handle her mop.

The first was a man of a distinct taste,

a man who was honest, loyal, and chaste.

Although he was poor, he was in great skill

and would oft conform to his cust’mers will.

The next, a lass of a solid background

with a foolish heart, but her morals sound.

She had some talent, but she wasn’t great.

She tried her best, but her choices lacked weight.

The last, a woman of a noble line

who would betray her friends and be just fine.

No skill had she, but she indeed stood out,

for riches she had, and she’d fling them about.

The girl knew enough for a decision,

although she made it without precision. 

The man: poor, the lass: alright, but impressed

she was by the lady, and how she dressed.

The girl made her choice without much ado, 

and so from there, some trouble did ensue.

The lady was quite jealous of her hair

and she hatched a plan to cause great despair.

When styling the girl’s hair, she brought up shears

and to it she took them, and pulled in tears.

The girl had at once seen what had been done,

and from her round eyes great big tears did run.

By then ‘twas too late to fix her mistake,

that judgments from appearance one can’t take.

What’s out oft misrepresents what’s within;

to judge at all can be a major sin.

The girl had to miss the ball of her dreams;

instead she spent it with her own shrill screams.

Her hair, she wouldn’t get back very fast,

but from it she learned a lesson to last.