Daffyd Gruad


The tale was written long ago in a limerick minstrel style reminiscent of the early lutist mummers who roamed throughout the Celtland Kingdoms.

Enough of my own bombastism.

Herewith, the tale (again).

flying_dragon

My dragon is named Daffyd Gruad
Of his hoard he is very proud
If you steal a jewel
Don’t look for renewal
You will not be needing a shroud

Its not only smoke he exhales
When he’s breathing out in big gales
Melts lead on the roof
Large birdies go “Poof”
And thieves simply leave large ash trails

He has a soft spot for sapphires
They’re something that raise his desires
And emerald green,
He likes to be seein’;
These gifts sometimes dampen his fire.

Daffyd and the dwarves are at war.
Dwarves love to deep mine for rich ore;
And stones of great hue
They deftly pursue.
In these things they place greatest store

while dragons need them for their hoards.
The dwarves set out guards with big swords
In their deepest cave,
Attempting to save
Their jewel encrusted gold gourds.

The great dwarven lore tells just where
A sword can be stuck, with great care.
And dead dragons’ bones
Make underground thrones
And great dwarven Kings will sit there!

But dragons will not just stand still
And try to do dwarven guards ill
And sharp dwarven swords
Have Daffyd’s hide scoreds
And stuck, like a porcupine quill.

So Daffyd’s huge jewellery hoard
Holds many a great dwarven sword
Surrounded by skulls
From dwarven guard culls
And all of their jewels his reward!

Around these small baubles revolves
This story and all it involves.
With dragons a’wing
Some greed and thieving
And virgins and sorc’ry evolves

flying_dragon

The events which now will be written.
Somewhere in the hills of Old Britain
Sir Ffrank the rapacious,
For being predacious,
Was denounced by the Lords of the Witan!

So covered in armour all black
He continued the weak to attack
But they were so poor.
He wanted much more;
Rich pickings that he could ransack.

On hearing some rumours, anon,
Of a village whose dragon was gone
He snuck to its cave
(This frumious knave)
And with all its gold was begone!

The small hoard of Thomas the Blue
Unguarded – by dwarves he was slew.
Despite fourteen dead
They cut off his head
And on his cooked flesh they did chew.

Sir Ffrank became boasting and proud
And told of his exploit out loud.
Handmaidens be-tressed
Were more than impressed
And round him they formed a big crowd

flying_dragon

Go back twenty years, a real meanie,
By all of the witches made Queenie,
Who stirred up her pot,
Made spells from old snot,
And worse, her true name was just Jeanie.

A dragon that Jeanie just hated
For birth in a field she just waited
And cute little Morgan
Was born in the sorghum
But goblins to Jeanie then prated

The witch in her madness and wroth
Cast spells in her pot and then quoth
“Now Morgan is cursed
As human be nursed!”
And added a terrible oath.

“And girl you shall be ’til you walk
Through Dragonfire without a balk
Only then will your scales
Attract dragon males
‘Til then only human you’ll talk!”

flying_dragon

So Morgan was raised as a girl
And learned how to knit and to purl
And often her sister
Would gladly assist her
While putting her hair in a curl.

Her sister was Vicki the good
Who helped in young Morgan’s girlhood
Raised fit for an Earl
But she’d only twirl
At the sight of the dragon Daffyd.

For Daffyd was handsome and strong
A dragon whose tail was so long
With a flame that’s so hot -
The smile that he’s got
Makes Morgan’s young heart sing a song.

flying_dragon

Meanwhile, the crude lusts of Sir Ffrank
(Whose hose was unwashed and it stank)
Now caused him to ask
(Taking sips from his flask)
For the hand of sweet Morgan, point-blank!

Sweet Vicki said, “Bold Dragonslayer,
Sir Ffrank, will you please hear my prayer
Although Morgan does cower
A right royal dower
Will surely make her so much gayer.”

“Perhaps,” she said, thinking so fast,
And trying to flabber his ghast,
“A chest full of jewels.
Quite often it fuels
The passions of those thought downcast.”

Young Morgan cried, starting to swoon,
While Ffrank, the black armoured poltroon,
Just glared at them both
And swore a great oath
And spat, but he missed the spittoon.

“For Morgan’s fair hand I will bring
A Dragonstone green, and be-ring
My best chosen wench.”
And being part French
He started his au revoiring.

And when he had gone through the door
Our Morgan arose from the floor.
“Oh Vicki,” She cried
Quite far from dried eyed
“I heard the fell oath that he swore!”

“My Daffyd loves green stones the most
Now soon he will just be a ghost.
The nasty Sir Ffrank
Will come back and swank,
He’ll brag with bravado and boast!”

But Vicki just smiled, “There’s a cost
To love which must risk being lost.
Run, give him your glove.
In battle, your love
May save him from being down-tossed.”

flying_dragon

Sir Ffrank entered into the cave
The home of our Daffyd the Brave
In which all his gems
And gold diadems
The walls and the floor line and pave.

Sir Ffrank hid the reason for meeting
Behind a kind jovial greeting
So Daffyd smiled back
Not fearing attack
And offered both tea and a seating.

For dragons are basically kind
They love just to talk mind to mind
Their thinking is deep
Providing you keep
Returning stray jewels you find.

The blackest of knights looked around
His eyes lit on gems in a mound
Dissembling still,
He planned to do ill
While visiting there, underground.

flying_dragon

And Morgan was scared for her Daff
So she left the castle so safe.
Evading the guard
She then ran so hard;
Arrived at the cave like a waif.

And entering inside she saw
The drama unfold on the floor
With glove in her hand
She only could stand
And watch the green dragonblood pour.

From dwarven law foul Ffrank had learned
That drag’nblood by dragonfire’s spurned
And so the first blow
Unwarned, from below
Had split Daffyd’s snout ‘fore it burned.

The blood falling down like a stream
Split his fire and turned into steam
Two small bands of flame
Confused Daffyds aim
For Ffranks scheme had worked like a dream

Defended by split bands of fire
Hurt Daffyd watched Ffranks sword rise higher
Now aimed at the eyes,
There were no replies.
It seemed that Sir Ffrank was the slyer.

Fair Morgan, in fear, gave a shout
And ran to give Ffrank a hard clout
She passed through the flame
That from Daffyd’s mouth came
Distracting Sir Ffrank with a shout.

And the oath that the witch Jeanie made
Caused Morgans sweet girlhood to fade
And there in her place
Was a gold dragon face
And Ffrank, now in fear, dropped his blade.

They herded him back to the castle
And gave him to Vick like a parcel
Who had him all stripped
And deservedly whipped
Then sent to the fields as a vassall.

So that’s how my own Daffyd Graud
Found his mate of whom he is proud.
Sweet Morgan and he
Soon married will be
‘Neath a sky where there isn’t a cloud.

flying_dragon

FINIS

The Ballad of Daffyd and Sir Ffrank


The tale was written two decades in the past and is in a limerick minstrel style reminiscent of the early lutist mummers who roamed throughout the Celtland Kingdom. Enough of my own bombastism. Herewith, the tale.

gold dragongold dragon

My dragon is named Daffyd Gruad
Of his hoard he is very proud
If you steal a jewel
Don’t look for renewal
You will not be needing a shroud

Its not only smoke he exhales
When he’s breathing out in big gales
Melts lead on the roof
Large birdies go “Poof”
And thieves simply leave large ash trails

He has a soft spot for sapphires
They’re something that raise his desires
And emerald green,
He likes to be seein’;
These gifts sometimes dampen his fire.

Daffyd and the dwarves are at war.
Dwarves love to deep mine for rich ore;
And stones of great hue
They deftly pursue.
In these things they place greatest store

while dragons need them for their hoards.
The dwarves set out guards with big swords
In their deepest cave,
Attempting to save
Their jewel encrusted gold gourds.

The great dwarven lore tells just where
A sword can be stuck, with great care.
And dead dragons’ bones
Make underground thrones
And great dwarven Kings will sit there!

But dragons will not just stand still
And try to do dwarven guards ill
And sharp dwarven swords
Have Daffyd’s hide scoreds
And stuck, like a porcupine quill.

So Daffyd’s huge jewellery hoard
Holds many a great dwarven sword
Surrounded by skulls
From dwarven guard culls
And all of their jewels his reward!

Around these small baubles revolves
This story and all it involves.
With dragons a’wing
Some greed and thieving
And virgins and sorc’ry evolves

gold dragongold dragon

The events which now will be written.
Somewhere in the hills of Old Britain
Sir Ffrank the rapacious,
For being predacious,
Was denounced by the Lords of the Witan!

So covered in armour all black
He continued the weak to attack
But they were so poor.
He wanted much more;
Rich pickings that he could ransack.

On hearing some rumours, anon,
Of a village whose dragon was gone
He snuck to its cave
(This frumious knave)
And with all its gold was begone!

The small hoard of Thomas the Blue
Unguarded – by dwarves he was slew.
Despite fourteen dead
They cut off his head
And on his cooked flesh they did chew.

Sir Ffrank became boasting and proud
And told of his exploit out loud.
Handmaidens be-tressed
Were more than impressed
And round him they formed a big crowd

gold dragongold dragon

Go back twenty years, a real meanie,
By all of the witches made Queenie,
Who stirred up her pot,
Made spells from old snot,
And worse, her true name was just Jeanie.

A dragon that Jeanie just hated
For birth in a field she just waited
And cute little Morgan
Was born in the sorghum
But goblins to Jeanie then prated

The witch in her madness and wroth
Cast spells in her pot and then quoth
“Now Morgan is cursed
As human be nursed!”
And added a terrible oath.

“And girl you shall be ’til you walk
Through Dragonfire without a balk
Only then will your scales
Attract dragon males
‘Til then only human you’ll talk!”

gold dragongold dragon

So Morgan was raised as a girl
And learned how to knit and to purl
And often her sister
Would gladly assist her
While putting her hair in a curl.

Her sister was Vicki the good
Who helped in young Morgan’s girlhood
Raised fit for an Earl
But she’d only twirl
At the sight of the dragon Daffyd.

For Daffyd was handsome and strong
A dragon whose tail was so long
With a flame that’s so hot -
The smile that he’s got
Makes Morgan’s young heart sing a song.

gold dragongold dragon

Meanwhile, the crude lusts of Sir Ffrank
(Whose hose was unwashed and it stank)
Now caused him to ask
(Taking sips from his flask)
For the hand of sweet Morgan, point-blank!

Sweet Vicki said, “Bold Dragonslayer,
Sir Ffrank, will you please hear my prayer
Although Morgan does cower
A right royal dower
Will surely make her so much gayer.”

“Perhaps,” she said, thinking so fast,
And trying to flabber his ghast,
“A chest full of jewels.
Quite often it fuels
The passions of those thought downcast.”

Young Morgan cried, starting to swoon,
While Ffrank, the black armoured poltroon,
Just glared at them both
And swore a great oath
And spat, but he missed the spittoon.

“For Morgan’s fair hand I will bring
A Dragonstone green, and be-ring
My best chosen wench.”
And being part French
He started his au revoiring.

And when he had gone through the door
Our Morgan arose from the floor.
“Oh Vicki,” She cried
Quite far from dried eyed
“I heard the fell oath that he swore!”

“My Daffyd loves green stones the most
Now soon he will just be a ghost.
The nasty Sir Ffrank
Will come back and swank,
He’ll brag with bravado and boast!”

But Vicki just smiled, “There’s a cost
To love which must risk being lost.
Run, give him your glove.
In battle, your love
May save him from being down-tossed.”

gold dragongold dragon

Sir Ffrank entered into the cave
The home of our Daffyd the Brave
In which all his gems
And gold diadems
The walls and the floor line and pave.

Sir Ffrank hid the reason for meeting
Behind a kind jovial greeting
So Daffyd smiled back
Not fearing attack
And offered both tea and a seating.

For dragons are basically kind
They love just to talk mind to mind
Their thinking is deep
Providing you keep
Returning stray jewels you find.

The blackest of knights looked around
His eyes lit on gems in a mound
Dissembling still,
He planned to do ill
While visiting there, underground.

gold dragongold dragon

And Morgan was scared for her Daff
So she left the castle so safe.
Evading the guard
She then ran so hard;
Arrived at the cave like a waif.

And entering inside she saw
The drama unfold on the floor
With glove in her hand
She only could stand
And watch the green dragonblood pour.

From dwarven law foul Ffrank had learned
That drag’nblood by dragonfire’s spurned
And so the first blow
Unwarned, from below
Had split Daffyd’s snout ‘fore it burned.

The blood falling down like a stream
Split his fire and turned into steam
Two small bands of flame
Confused Daffyds aim
For Ffranks scheme had worked like a dream

Defended by split bands of fire
Hurt Daffyd watched Ffranks sword rise higher
Now aimed at the eyes,
There were no replies.
It seemed that Sir Ffrank was the slyer.

Fair Morgan, in fear, gave a shout
And ran to give Ffrank a hard clout
She passed through the flame
That from Daffyd’s mouth came
Distracting Sir Ffrank with a shout.

And the oath that the witch Jeanie made
Caused Morgans sweet girlhood to fade
And there in her place
Was a gold dragon face
And Ffrank, now in fear, dropped his blade.

They herded him back to the castle
And gave him to Vick like a parcel
Who had him all stripped
And deservedly whipped
Then sent to the fields as a vassall.

So that’s how my own Daffyd Graud
Found his mate of whom he is proud.
Sweet Morgan and he
Soon married will be
‘Neath a sky where there isn’t a cloud.

gold dragongold dragon

Pollie Limerick; Chris Pyne, Julie Bishop


 A lim about Julie's a drag Its making me look like a dag     I just sound all whiny   Like red-faced Chris Pyney  I can only slag and then bag

A lim about Julie’s a drag
Its making me look like a dag
I just sound all whiny
Like red-faced Chris Pyney
I can only slag and then bag

Limerick for Justice


George Pell and his church want your cash Because they will need a big stash To cover the costs Of Court based imposts To pay out the kids that they pash!

George Pell and his church want your cash
Because they will need a big stash
To cover the costs
Of Court based imposts
To pay out the kids that they pash!

Polly Limerick; BRONNY!! You Didn’t!


Mackellar's old Rep has just started To quote from a book she has carted Now Julie's concerned Cos Pyney's discerned That Bronny has stinkily farted!

Mackellar’s old Rep has just started
To quote from a book she has carted
Now Julie’s concerned
Cos Pyney’s discerned
That Bronny has stinkily farted!

The words are mine own,
the image was burgled from @DanJCass

Polly Lim; Lyn Linking


One of my favourite characters in the Australian political scene is a small tweety bird who spends her time collecting all the good political blogs together and posting them as a list in the comments on  The Political Sword.

After a well earned Christmas break, she has returned, and all is right with the world.

I love it when our Lyn's a'linking She's adding so much to our thinking By showing the way And making our day. Her energy has us all blinking!

I love it when our Lyn’s a’linking
She’s adding so much to our thinking
By showing the way
And making our day.
Her energy has us all blinking!

Matthew Chapter Six, Verse the Second


I'm just like a Pharisee, see Volunteer for the public to see Not quite like is said In good books I've read. It's all about me, about ME!

I’m just like a Pharisee, see
Volunteer for the public to see
Not quite like is said
In good books I’ve read.
It’s all about me, about ME!

Polly Lim; Destroy the Joint


Oz women are sick of the shit, This system they're going to quit  And that is the point  Of destroying the joint Australia needs a refit!

Oz women are sick of the shit,
This system they’re going to quit
And that is the point
Of destroying the joint
Australia needs a refit!

Pollylim, Adele and Troy


Adele, Sure your Mum often said No meat where you get all your bread That bastard Buswell Sure isn't a swell He just wants you spread on a bed!

Adele, Sure your Mum often said
No meat where you get all your bread
That bastard Buswell
Sure isn’t a swell
He just wants you spread on a bed!

James Ashby; The Limerick


So James has been chucked from the Court Not getting the judgement he sought. So now he's not gracious 'bout being vexatious And getting a judge he'd not bought!

So James has been chucked from the Court

Not getting the judgement he sought.

So now he’s not gracious

’bout being vexatious

And getting a judge he’d not bought!

A New Royal Is Announced


It seems that Will's willy's no dud So Katey will soon have a bub And tho some will cheer The truth is, I fear - Just one more fat cat in the tub!

It seems that Will’s willy’s no dud
So Katey will soon have a bub
And tho some will cheer
The truth is, I fear -
Just one more fat cat in the tub!

Polly Lim; Christopher Pyne


The red face of Chris keeps on glowing While he's in the seats of unknowing. It begs for the asking, "That grimace is masking If you are now coming or going"

The red face of Chris keeps on glowing
While he’s in the seats of unknowing.
It begs for the asking,
“That grimace is masking
If you are now coming or going”

Polly Lim; Senator Brandis


A Senate leftover of Howard's, Stood up in the Castle of Cowards Accusing a crime But he's such a slime, Outside of the House he just cowered!

A Senate leftover of Howard’s,
Stood up in the Castle of Cowards
Accusing a crime
But he’s such a slime,
Outside of the House he just cowered!

Polly Lim; Julie Bishop, On Repeat


J Bishop's stood up from her seat A question she wants to repeat and repeat and repeat and repeat and repeat and repeat and repeat and repeat!

J Bishop’s stood up from her seat
A question she wants to repeat
and repeat and repeat
and repeat and repeat
and repeat and repeat and repeat!

Polly Lim; Ralph Blewitt


 

Ralph Blewitt's a well-known sleaze  The look in his eyes makes you freeze     It does make you wonder     (In grossest mid-chunder)   About all the friends he will please

Ralph Blewitt’s a well-known sleaze
The look in his eyes makes you freeze
It does make you wonder
(In grossest mid-chunder)
About all the friends he will please

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