Sir Brian of the Small Hands

Its a tale, old and true, through the ages to you

a man good, brave and noble quite grand

he’s from stories of old, and songs sung and yarns told

stout of heart but alas such small hands


From when he was a lad, he would say to his dad

One day I,  will for sure, be a knight

But alas his dad feared and he scratched his long beard

Not convinced that in fact his son might


For his hands so quite small, even though he was tall

And a sword he could surely not hold

It would fall from his grip, to the ground it would slip

Left defenceless alone in the cold


“Perhaps it’s not for you” , said his dad, his heart blue

“Maybe you should consider your trade

Jesters are in demand and with your tiny hands

You would surely have your fortune made


You can dance, perform tricks, they will laugh, give you tips

You can jape, as they point at your fingers

Dressed as harlequin king, telling jokes then you sing

Of the Celts cross the sea, all such gingers


Okay so I will stop there.  Ever start a post and persist and persist and then realise you’re wasting your time?  Well this was one of those.  For some reason I got into my head that a poem about a knight with small hands called Brian would be a good idea.  I like to think I am pretty creative but beyond the title that is all I had.  I started to write and got a few nicely rhymed bits done and then kind of backed myself into a corner.

Instead of stopping what I did was keep going which was a bad idea because beyond King, knight and jester I wasn’t wholly convinced of what other jobs you’d have in medieval times.  Priest?  Blacksmith?  Boil Lancer?  Pot Emptier?  So another bad idea there obviously.

I did toy with the ridiculous and there will forever be remembered the missing verse where I discussed just how much bigger things seem when held in small hands.  I thought for a while that it was funny then realised it sounded like it involved a child’s hands and a grown mans…well you know.  I quickly deleted it.

I was then going to try and make it some sort of political commentary on Donald Trump which just made me think that I should perhaps shut the hell up because there are limits to weirdness and an allegorical tale about Donald Trump through the medium of a small handed knight is just stupid.

So this is it.  A lesson in knowing when to say enough is enough because as much as you might like your title and the noble looking photo you found on pixabay sometimes there just aren’t enough words to rhyme with hands…