The Tale of Joshua Vine

Posted: 17 February 2013 in fiction, writing
Tags: , ,

Here you go, something unusual for a Sunday… Been a while since I’ve written something silly just for the pleasure of doing so.

So, here you are:


Joshua Vine, incumbent Man Of The Year
Was known far and wide as a man without fear.
With the heart of a lion and the courage as well
Though the stature of a rather small cub, truth to tell.

His reputation was indeed one to treasure
And one when repeated in which he took pleasure
One of bravery, courage, of this task, that deed
Of lifting great weights, of running at speed

It started when he was merely knee high
To his mentor, one Sir Ebeneezer Wright-Fry
Who taught him the various tricks of the trade
How to appear quite relaxed, how to look unafraid

But soon the pupil eclipsed his old teacher
And following the principles espoused by old Neitzche
Took on every challenge, everything at which he
Could hopefully triumph, could hope to achieve

Until he was acknowledged as the bravest of brave
The one against whom comparisons were made
Never resting on laurels, nor relaxing at all
Which of course, inevitably led to downfall.

For Josh, no challenge could ever be too great
Targets were merely things to be beat
Then came that day when he had a new story:
His greatest achievement, his crowning of glory.

He would go to the moon, yes that thing in the sky!
He had conquered gravity, and knew how to fly.
And the crowds they did gather, in huge expectation
After listening to speeches and talks and oration.

He stood at the cliff edge, and jumped… just like that.
And, as expected, shot down – a large splat
For with such huge falls, there are no shades of grey
Just a large smear of red to be soon cleaned away.

And the people cried, then sighed, then left for their homes
And the writers wrote stories, and the poets wrote poems
And they looked for another to whom worship could lend
Someone they could flatter, and honour, and destroy in the end.

© Lee Barnett, 2013

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