Tales of Gustav Erikson, English poetry, humour

Gutav Erickson was a little Gnome
In a gnarled treetrunk he'd made a home
The maidens of town he'd serenade
With tales of dragons he'd slayed
The women would all laugh
At poor little Gustav
When he swished his sword
They refused to applaud
When he showed them his bow
They shook heads saying "No"
So he bought out his catapault
Still they thought him all talk
"How will I make you believe me?" he said.
"By bringing us a Dragon's head."
Gustav begin to curse and hop
"Rats!" he cried, "I killed the lot!"

Gustav Erickson the pointy-eared Gnome
Packed up one day deciding to roam
Across fields, marshes and brooks he walked
It was fearsome demons that he stalked
To silence the towns' sceptical voice
He didn't see he had any choice
At each successive castle he'd enquire
"Is there a beast I might slay Sire?"
As the locales grew remoter and wilder
Gustav's hopes grew stronger and bolder
He felt sure he'd meet a monster
Slay it and stay the maiden's laughter
And at the castle of a mage
Gustav learnt the mistake he'd made
"The only beast is in your mind,
Gustav, do not listen to words unkind."

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