A Tiger’s Tale

Written and illustrated by John Bennett

There was an ancient Grecian boy
Who played upon the fiddle,
Sometimes high, sometimes low,
Sometimes in the middle;
And all day long beneath the shade
He lunched on prunes and marmalade;
But what the tunes were which he played
Is certainly a riddle.

A Tiger's Tale

Three tigers, gaunt and ravenous,
Came from the gloomy wood,
Intent to slay the fiddler,
But his music was too good;
So round about him once they filed,
Till by the melody beguiled,
They sat them softly down and smiled,
As only tigers could.

A Tiger's Tale

And thus beguiled, the tigers smiled
Throughout the livelong day
Until, at length, there was not left
Another tune to play.

What happened then I do not know;
I was not there to see.
But when a man runs short on tunes,
Can tigers be appeased with prunes,
Or marmalade and silver spoons?
That’s what perplexes me.

Top of Page | Next Poem