Carl
Sarah Fitzgerald
Sarah Fitzgerald and her brother Harold
Went to the park to play
But no girls nor boys and none of their toys
Could be found that day
For a monster named Larry and his cousin Jerry
Had scared them all away
So Sarah decided the two should be chided
And she had much to say
She marched to their dwelling, the one which was smelling
Of grime, garbage and gore
Though her brother pleaded, young Sarah proceeded
To walk right up to the door
Their uncle appeared, looking quite weird
Drenched in the blood of a boar:
“I’m not sorry to say that the two ran away.
They don’t live here any more.”
Harold told Sarah to leave it alone or a paira’
Dead youngsters they’d be
But Sarah declared that she wouldn’t be scared
By a monster or two, nor by three
Harold was prudent, an erstwhile student
Of monsters and their history:
“In Nineteen-oh-two they made a big stew
Of children like you and like me!”
Sarah was headstrong, “I will get along
With or without you around
And I’ll have you know that I’m willing to go
To the village where monsters abound”
Poor Harold followed, all fear he swallowed
As they journeyed to menacing grounds:
The City of Doom, a patch of great gloom
Where hideous creatures are found
As they entered the city where nothing is pretty
They suddenly started to hear
Wails and groans and hideous moans
Her brother quivered with fear
Several gargoyles and ghouls sporting boils
Grew increasingly near
Sarah’s pace quickened, the musty air thickened
But she knew her quest was sincere
An ogre named Carl said with a snarl,
“These two wayward youngins’ are mad
But here you are, you’ve traveled so far
Without your mum or you dad”
Sarah inquired, “Sir, help is desired.
Some monsters are making me mad
That hooligan Larry and his cousin Jerry
Have been cruel, naughty and bad”
The cantankerous ogre stared a cruel glare
And veins bulged out on his head
Harold shut eyes. The kid realized
The two were soon to be dead
Carl shuddered and shook. Poor Sarah couldn’t look
The air was frozen with dread
They thought he’d explode or perhaps he’d implode
He began to chortle instead
“My dear, I must say you do have a way.
That’s the best laugh I’ve had in a while
You deserve to be praised in various ways
For remarkable gumption and style”
What then ensued can only be viewed
As a case for the Odd Monster Files
(Folks who were there are likely to swear
That he even broke into a smile)
“You know, I reckon, someone should beckon
Those two young rascals to me”
This was no sooner said than the two lads were led
On a chain for all to see
They proceeded to plead that their dastardly deed
Was merely some young monster fun
The cousins then learned in quite certain terms
That their kid-scaring days were now done
Now Sarah’s revered and heartily cheered
Whenever she comes to the park
The children can play not simply all day
But even when it turns dark
Now Harold tells all that it was his call
To boldly and bravely embark
On that fateful day when two kids went away
To protect all who play in the park
by Richard W. Bray
Tags: Carl, Children's Literature, children’s poetry, girl power, Humor, humorous poetry, monsters, ogres, Ogres named Carl, parks, Poetry
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