Alfred the Black, an Epic
He always comes home in the fall
Loudly announcing his arrival.
He was doing a tap dance on a stone wall
Yet the weather was turning bad, no denial.
Mischievously laughing as he did a slide,
He showed what he had in his heart.
He rode a gust of wind in a showman's glide,
This Prince of Glory played his part.
Calling me, he said to hold tight for a seemingly rough ride.
The churning black and vile storm clouds will not ever play fair.
You'd best take cover soon, o do run and hide.
Don't worry about Old Alfie, I'll fly beyond there.
I'm not going anywhere without you, my friend,
I'll not see you get battered and tossed.
My house is up the road a-piece, just round the bend.
If you wait too much longer in this storm, you'll surely be lost.
Come quickly with me, I felt cold drops of rain.
This is a promise for carnage and high wind,
I'll not have you die or break your brain
When I have warmth and cover within.
You fly due south and wait for me
At the brick house back there.
You'll know mine and will surely see
Bushes where you can hide, so you won't be scared.
Off he went into the roiling and fearful dark,
I'd hurry just as fast as I could.
Hopefully, he'd manage to hit his mark
And not be struck by flying wood.
Even though I ran with all my might home,
The freezing tempest pushed me back.
The violent waters were angry with unjust foam
Pummeling me like weightless moss in a linen sack.
It seemed like an eternal life before I reached the entry.
Alfred! yelled I over the violent din of hell.
Stand fast if you can, O noble sentry,
Before the avalanche of water is upon us in a swell!
I grabbed him tight, as I was blown within my abode
Like a discarded leaf upon the quaking ground.
Just as suddenly the incessant battling demons rode
The violence back through the gates of Satan around.
The last scream of agony ended as quickly as it came
For the gods of lightening and thunder were sent
Back to their own forlorn and hellish game.
Alfie and I were back in the sun, just like nature had meant.
So let this be a lesson to all
Without any grave intent.
The crow and his friend always prevail
Before what would be a bitter end.