fantasy / Poetry / Writing

Queen Wyla & the Bog Troll by L.A. Murphy

Queen Wyla woke one windy day
And wished she saw the sun.
Another grey and windy day,
Being Queen was not much fun.

Not a moment to herself,
A maid came to her stead.
“Wake, Queen Wyla!
It’s time to leave your bed!”

Poked and prodded, primped and curled
The maid pulled up her hair.
She smiled as she worked,
But Queen Wyla did not care.

The maid stared at her face.
“Beauty, you are in thine eyes!”
But the maid could not be heard
Over Queen Wyla’s sighs.

At breakfast she did play,
Pushing food around her plate.
How of she wished to leave,
But for court she would be late.

Holding court was not much fun
And the Queen had come to know,
Not much could be done for now,
The court was just for show.

But as she sat and nodded,
Something caught her eye.
A man squeezing his cap,
And a boy about to cry.

Come forth and tell your tale!”
At this the man began to move,
The boy began to wail.

“Quiet son!”
The father pleaded.
“Dry those tears,
Help is needed!”

The man took bended knee
And kept his head bowed down.
Softly came his voice.
“We live just outside of town.”

The man began his story,
Of trees and cold and fog.
His voice began to quiver
When he talked about the bog.

His son held him tightly
As he talked of what he’d found.
“An accident.” he said.
“While digging up the ground.”

He’d always been so careful.
In the bog, they weren’t alone.
But down his spade had gone,
And the ground began to moan.

Out of the mud it came.
Filthy, black as coal.
A roaring, screaming ugly thing,
The dreaded, horrid bog troll!

The troll held its head,
And thrashed and yelled and glared.
The man and his young son,
Had simply stopped and stared.

“It was really al my fault your Grace!”
The man began to plead.
“It was an accident, my friend.
There really is no need!”

“How shall we fix this?”
The advisor whispered in her ear.
The Queen tried to hide her smirk.
“Advisor, do not fear.”

A feeling had taken over,
And the Queen allowed a smile.
She hadn’t felt this feeling,
In quite a long, long while.

Retired to her chambers,
The Queen looked out to night.
Although they’d try to stop her,
She knew she had to fight.

She hadn’t had much practice,
But how hard could it be!
A few swings of a sword
And a warrior she would be!

It had to be tonight,
While the castle was asleep.
A few quick strides and down the stairs,
And the Queen was in the Keep.

A dash over to the Armoury,
A sword, a shield, a knife!
Any kind of weapon now,
For later fighting for her life.

The Queen was disappointed,
No weapons did appear.
Except for one upon the wall,
A rusty, broken spear.

A helmet she could see,
A bit dented but okay.
She held the spear and wore the helm,
She’d live another day.

The journey was quite far,
Especially when walking.
But excitement drove her forward,
Soon a troll she would be stalking.

The bog was dark and smelly,
And silent as can be.
Until a voice rang in her ears,
“What’s this bug I see?”

Queen Wyla turned around,
Excitement turned to fear.
Before her stood a giant beast!
“Stay back! Do not come near!”

“You smell tasty little bug!
I’ll have you for a snack!”
“I am no bug you filthy beast!
Get back! Get back! Get back!”

The bog troll roared and leered,
And showed his slimy teeth.
Either way, Queen Wyla knew,
This showdown would be brief.

The bog troll stumbled forward,
And raised his claws up high.
“Do not raise your hands to me!
Tonight you’ll surely die!”

The fight was truly brutal,
But the Queen refused to yield.
Jumping, dashing, striking hard,
The bog troll’s fate was sealed.

It yelled and swiped and sneered,
Growing weary with this war.
The Queen jumped over to the left,
The troll raised its foot high off the floor!

The bog troll meant to stomp on her,
Hoping to end the fight.
But Wyla saw the end as well,
And threw the spear with all her might!

The speared soared in silence,
Swiftly toward to foe.
A truer aim there never was,
It landed in his toe.

The bog troll screamed out loud,
And fell down to the ground.
It held its foot and rolled and screamed,
And made an awful sound.

“Foul beast! You have been bested!
Leave or you will die!”
The bog troll stared into her face,
And his scream became a cry.

He threw away the spear,
and hobbled into the trees.
Queen Wyla stared in wonder,
And fell down to her knees.

Queen Wyla savoured victory,
And then began to roam.
Soon the trees began to clear,
And Wyla saw her home.

The sun was rising in the sky,
A crowd waited in the halls.
Queen Wyla told her story,
Over coos and shouts and calls.

Her advisor shouted loudest,
“Oh the things you must have seen!”
Lady Farley shouted next,
“Praise the Warrior Queen!”

The adventure had been a wonder,
And the Queen glanced at the sun.
Her mind had changed since yesterday,
Being Queen might just be fun.


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