Posted by blue.beard on April 07, 2002 at 21:14:57:
Hiawatha was excited,
trying out his bow & arrow,
with a quiver made of leather.
Hearing stories of his father,
hearing gory tales of murder.
Hiawatha stalked the forest,
looking for a nubile maiden.
Looking for a target worthy,
dying of his bow & arrow.
Stalking lithely through the forest,
walking lightly like the puma,
heard he then a high pitched chirping,
not unlike the birds at dawn.
Then he came upon a river,
happy maidens bathing there.
Some were swimming, more were sunning,
all were naked, all were comely,
all were there for him to see.
Searching for the perfect maiden,
all the breasts they had were small,
and prepubescent were they all.
Quiet walked he past the water,
not a maiden saw him going,
not a maiden saw him leaving.
"None are ripe," he mused still walking,
"still too green to pluck this season."
Hiawatha, walking slowly,
strolling through the woods primeval,
looking for a worthy target,
looking for a grown up lady.
Suddenly the smell of smoking,
savory the smell of cooking,
longingly he sniffed some roasting.
Then he came upon a clearing,
with a bonfire burning gaily.
On a spit there was a maiden
turning slowly, cooking nicely.
"About half done, I'll wait an hour."
Then he turned into the wood.
Finally, he spied a maiden,
strolling, walking toward the shore.
Lightning fast he loosed an arrow,
sent it speeding to the maiden.
Looking close, he saw he missed her,
looking back, she glared in anger.
Turning, running, he looked frightened.
"That was close," he muttered softly,
"almost got my elder sister."