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"He is brave and a warrior fine--
In a stroke, killed twenty-nine!"
Thus went word from town to town,
Only to come back around...
"A better man there be none,
Seekest thou a finer one?"

Crept-in a common sight of doubt:
Who's it they talk about...?

"'tis the Tailor from this land--
He hath the strength of Heracles' hand--
There he goes, tall and proud..."
Seeing whom, approached the crowd.

"Tell us, O Courageous one,
How didst that you have done?"
"Tell us, tell us!"cried the throng
Only to shroud his path along:
"I know not what 'tis ye talk,
I'm in a hurry, ye impede my walk.."

"Don't be humble, tell us about't",
Jumped up He, whilst all shout't;
"I will tell what you want to know,
About what, tell me though...!"
"Tell about your twenty-nine",
Sang all folk in a line:

"The Twenty-Nine",so he thought,"that I kill'd,
For me an éclat this has built..."
"I am glad I talk to you all,
Of this emprise--this caterwaul...
When on a fine, wintry morn,
I sat sewing pieces worn,
There came a lady selling jam",
He gazed,"I called--Ay, ma'am!--
Who, sensing a prospective buyer,
Told she had the best of Shire",
Again he stopped, all looked rapt:
"So I bought what I thought apt;
Now then, I stitch and stitch and sew,
There's buzzing-humming and the numbers grow",

He saw they'd still eager eyes:
"That's when I strike at the flies!
And behold--I kill 'em folk,
I kill Twenty-Nine in a stroke!!..."
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*it is based on a story i once read as a child...though its plot was different, my poem just derives the 'tailor' and the initial 'killing spree' from the original story to combine with my own ideas..all comments appreciated...

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