The primaries are upon us, and the GOP searches for a knight errant to slay the dragon. Sometimes the old ways are not always the best ways. A cautionary tale about a knight who went into battle with a dragon woefully unprepared. Are we talking about a Republican knight setting out to do battle with the fierce Obama? Could be. In limerick form.

 

 

A New Hampshire village, forsooth

Was besieged by a dragon, in truth

Who appeared from the east

When expected the least

And sped off with a maiden uncouth

 

The village, in panicky mode

Called a knight, who lived just up the road

Who quickly agreed

But a retainer he’d need

Before he would leave his abode

 

The weather was crisp, but not cold

The knight neither young nor yet old

He set out with a cry,

“The foul dragon must die!

Or me name is not Romney the Bold!”

 

The enterprise well under way

The knight, with a dragon to slay

On a horse that was keen

Sped right to the scene

And brought that old dragon to bay

 

Now here’s where the story gets weird

From the dragon lair music he heerd,

A waltz, he declared

A weakness he shared

With the dragon, or so it appeared

 

Much alarmed, toward the music he slipped

Into darkness as black as the crypt

But abruptly he heard

Not a note, not a word

While from stalactites ice water dripped

 

In great fear now he tried to back out

When from out of the darkness a shout

With a roaring of flame

The beast cried out his name

And rushed forward to settle the bout

 

The knight drew his sword but too late

The dragon had settled his fate

A swift swing of his paws

And a raking of claws

Made the knight just some more dragon bait

 

Now the moral is clear as the sun

If you fight the foul beast one on one

A sharp sword or a shiv

Is okay, but to live

It is better to come with a gun

 

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