Foiled Poem by Richard Alin Martin

The light of dawn was gray and wan,
that fateful morn to be,
When ‘Basher’ Bob and Bill McCobb
would meet, pugnaciously;
The haze was thick, the sward still slick,
from sleeping in the dew,
And as the grass was thusly crass,
the footing was askew.....

Now ‘Basher’ Bob was deemed a slob,
and lacking in finesse,
A lowly cad who never had,
good manners in excess;
But though the smug despised this thug,
wide berth they gave to he,
For ‘Basher’ Bob was known to rob
and kill excessively.....

While a dapper man (on the other hand) ,
was ‘Handsome’ Bill McCobb,
A gent of class whom the lowly caste
referred to as a snob;
But all the sneers were hidden jeers
and never untoward,
For ‘Handsome’ Bill had flawless skill
with pistol, dirk and sword.....

Now the point ‘tis moot that one dispute
should e’er be cause for war,
Since men have fought and died for naught,
as many times as for;
But each man’s foe is doubly so
when honor is at stake,
And slight insult does oft result
in quick offence to take.....

And what design is more inclined,
to pique, and rage impart?
If not the hex of fairer sex,
and matters of the heart;
That two men came to woo the same
could only be deplored,
And so, alas, the die was cast,
and could not be ignored.......

Now ‘tis rather odd that folk will trod
great distances to see,
What must result in fugue or gout,
and great anxiety;
Yet still there poured a countless horde
to cram the gallery,
For many seem to view such things
as great festivity.....

And so the crowd was thick and loud,
with partisans intense,
The odds were set and wagers bet,
and liquor was dispensed;
And in a flood of cries for blood
the ‘Seconds’ took their place,
They gave M’lords their trusty swords,
and left them face to face.....

“Aha” said Bob, to Bill McCobb,
“you had the nerve to show!
Prepare yourself to lose your health,
or pack your bags and go.....”
“You’re rather shrill”, said ‘Handsome Bill,
“for such a tub of lard!
So in rebuff I’ll call your bluff
with just one word, ‘en garde’! ”

Their epees crossed, became engrossed
with flicker and with dart,
A sudden lunge, with hope to plunge
a blade into the heart;
A deadly blow, but parried low,
a lull to circle round,
With fake and slip, with feint and dip,
but neither giving ground.....

And then a gasp went up at last,
for ‘Basher’ Bob had tripped,
Yet e’er could Bill apply his skill
when he himself had slipped;
A slashing arc (which missed the mark)
had pierced his leg instead,
A lucky break for Robert’s sake,
who might have lost his head.....

But Bill retained his deadly aim,
(though wounded in the calf) ,
He said “well done! ” with grand aplomb,
then sliced Bob’s ear in half;
“First blood is scored! ” the gall’ry roared,
and clamored for the end,
When chance was seen to intervene,
as happens now and then.....

For in the crowd the braggarts loud
were wont to disagree,
As who was best to win the test,
(with much disparity) :
The tension grew as insults flew
as thick as did the rum,
‘Till heated mien reduced the scene
to pandemonium.....

With hurled abuse and sabers loose,
the atmosphere was tense,
As friend and foe stood toe to toe,
with livid countenance;
‘Till factions both, (with muttered oath) ,
bereft of all their wits,
Did then proceed with reckless heed
to chop themselves to bits.....

Across the glen and back again
the battle waxed and waned,
While ‘Basher’ Bob and Bill McCobb
stood speechless in the main;
“I think”, said Bob, to Bill McCobb,
“an error has been made,
‘Tis rather crass to seek a lass
with pistol or with blade'.....

“It’s clear to why”, was Bill’s reply,
“that what you say is true,
I do believe we should take leave
and have ourselves a brew”;
And so they went (with mute consent) ,
their swords upon the soil,
And this my friend, ‘twas fitting end,
that FATE should get the FOIL.

RAM

A Poem by Richard Alin Martin