Journey is Beset by a Freybug

Poet's Notes

This is an examplar for my new contest, "A Mythical Creature". :) The first mention of a freybug was in England in 1555.

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We set off quite gaily, and we all are quite sober,
so freybugs won't be illusion today.
(We've had the illusion when drinking a Guinness.
A freybug will suddenly jump. 

                                    Oh, the fear!)

But we haven't gone far, when someone does hear it,
a bark like a regular dog at the park,
but no parks are near in this part of old Norfolk,
and the thought - "Lord, a freybug!" rattles our brains.

It bounds down the roadway, the wild freybug, to frighten,
and screams are beginning to sound in the cart.
"It's okay, little Millie", say I to my daughter.
"It won't come too near."

                                    But it does, oh, it does!

It's climbing right up to the cart in commotion
and Millie is sick on me - oh the great mess.
Now it's the freybug's turn to be sick on me
as it bites its way through my coarse cotton hood.

I've no energy left -
and my head is bleeding...


"Millie - has it gone yet?"          


The relief!



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