The Ballad of the Sceptical Schoolboy

Why do I have no beanstalk to climb
and no ogres wife to make my own
And alas I have roamed in every park
And yet found no sword embedded in stone

I used up every day of my summer break
looking for a hole in the little town dam
Not one little scratch not even a pinhole
which I can use my little finger to jam

Last July I went with Pa to the beach
and rubbed every bottle lying on the sand
Not one genie popped out in clouds of smoke
Not even a wish (not even fair Lucille's hand...)

I even made cousin Tom catch me a frog
and I kissed it when noone was looking
I should get a princess I thought to myself
Frog stayed put, and mom gave me a royal licking

Then last Sunday noon I hopped over to Lucille's
And I peeped through her bedroom pane
There she lay on her eiderdown bed, quite, still and ashen
The scene awoke the hero within and I leapt (the memory is pain...)

Alas she was not poisoned by an evil stepmother
Nor had she eaten poisoned fruit
Yet I kissed her full on her crimson lips
And as I did, in her room her father set foot.

He whipped my ass for a good half hour
and then he called my dad
Dad took me home and told me she was with fever
And he whipped me too, and dad whips bad

So I think, Sir, that these stories are all make-believe
there are no kings and princes, or goblins or gold,
I spent so long trying to make them true
But I know better now, I am ten years old!!!

So Sir, will you please read this letter of mine
And give me a light sabre sword this year
I have been good you know, (except for the kiss)
And my mom always says I am a son most dear

So I will wake up tomorrow morning early and bright
and hope you had forgotten my flaws
I will run down the stairs two at a time,
so do leave me a sword Santa Claus.

(In a moment of poetic abandon...)