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Peter Possum paused
and cocked his ear to catch the sound:
Many horses drawing
near – and he was on the ground!
Dropping all his
berries Peter scampered up a tree,
Forest trails with
horses’ hooves was not a place to be!
Twenty horses on
the track drew closer, walking slow,
Every rider
armoured with a broadsword and a bow,
Safely in the
centre came a carriage with four horse,
Peter understood:
an escort! Princess Anne, of course!
Princess Anne, the
fairest maiden in this feudal land,
Many men had tried
to win the promise of her hand;
High indeed were
standards of the rich and mighty king,
Anne, his only
daughter, was his life, his everything.
Now the leading
horsemen passed beneath where Peter lay,
Hidden on his
branch he saw the carriage come his way,
As the princess
passed beneath he gave a solemn bow,
Satire his undoing
as he toppled from the bough.
Princess Anne was
sad, the carriage like a prison cell,
Travel now was
tiresome, all because of El Gizelle;
Feared throughout
the land, this fiend had vowed to end her life
All because the
King refused to let her be his wife.
Interrupting
reverie a crashing, tearing sound,
Peter fell right
through the roof and set her heart apound,
Landing on the
floor he looked up with a face so grim,
Princess Anne was
beautiful and smiling down at him.
“Where have you
come from?” she asked as Peter cleared his head,
“I was feared you’d
hit the floor so hard you may be dead!
Are you certain
you’re not hurt?” she said with royal grace,
Peter only shook
his head and gazed up at her face.
Hair the shade of
winter’s grass beframed a rosebud smile,
Eyes as sad as
willow trees with power to beguile,
Cheeks as soft as
berry skin, as smooth as forest moss
Raised the possum
to the moon, he knew his heart was lost.
Noises from outside
the coach – rough voices raised on high,
Peter looked
outside in time to see the arrows fly;
Ambush! Twenty
soldiers fell in death to forest’s floor,
No protection now
for Princess! Death, outside the door.
El Gizelle strode
to the coach, a smirk upon his face,
Ambush had been
easy at this caravan’s slow pace,
Now he looked with
scorn upon his men, all petrified
As he told them of
his plan to kill the one inside.
Ugly and deceitful,
from a hamlet – lowly born,
El Gizelle had
always seen the world with hate and scorn,
Using guile and
treachery he’d built a life of fame,
Cowed, the kingdom
village dwellers cringed to hear his name.
Now his men, afraid
of things to come, all slipped away,
Murder of a
Princess went too far for such as they,
King’s revenge
would strike like lightning on a summer’s night,
El Gizelle would go
too far and never win this fight.
In the coach the
Princess, in the corner, cringed in fear,
Footsteps loudly
told of deadly trouble drawing near,
Then the door flew
open, El Gizelle stood there outside,
Bowing low he said:
“Hello, my lovely future bride!”
Princess Anne then
screamed and shouted “Lay no hand on me!
Father’s wrath will
be the death of you, just wait and see!”
Then the cur pulled
out a knife, and cried in evil voice:
“Take me or I take
your life, my Princess, make your choice!”
“No!” the Princess
cried aloud, her green eyes open wide,
El Gizelle jumped
on the step and made to come inside,
Closer, ever
closer, left to right his dagger swept,
Murder in his black
heart, that’s when Peter Possum leapt!
Possum claws are
razor sharp, to help them in the trees,
Now they scoured
the monster’s face, and ripped the flesh with ease,
El Gizelle fell
backwards from the coach as Peter’s teeth
Grabbed the knife
and jumped down to the ground, right underneath.
That’s how El
Gizelle was killed, though history has said
Tom, a handsome
village youth, was hero here, instead;
Lauded by the King
as he and Princess Anne arrived,
With a story that
two secret lovers had contrived.
Royal wedding, Tom
and Anne, the King dare not refuse,
Happy ever after,
they would not forget their ruse,
Courage won the day
and if they ever needed proof
Peter Possum
happily lived in the castle roof!
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