The Unicorn

Little Johnny Hayden
once met a maiden
who made his smile
the width of a mile.
They met one day
while baling hay;
she began to sing
of many a thing:
of birds that could talk
and snakes that could walk.
Thus was he struck stupid
by that little imp, Cupid.
He asked her her name,
she said "It's too plain!,"
He said, "Come, don't be shy!"
But, she had no reply.
As they spoke more often,
she seemed to soften;
surely he must
have gained her trust!
Though more tame,
she kept her name.
"Let's meet again,
tonight in the glen."
"That sounds fair,
I'll be there."
The boy was elated,
but not satiated.
They met that night,
but with such little light,
he just couldn't see
what was about to be.
At 10 he arrived
for the tryst he'd contrived.
He stood and waited
for his dear belated.
The full moon rose,
the wind chilled his toes.
It was getting late,
with no sign of his date.
"Where could she be?
Is she hiding from me?"
He heard a sound
and turned around.
A unicorn
with a silver horn!
Her frame was slight,
her coat purest white.
She bowed her head,
and speared him dead.
"All men are the same,
just wanting my name.
I'm Judge in this wood,
and you were no good.
I cannot praise
your wicked ways,
thus you are banned
from this troubled land."
As the light grew dimmer,
with one final shimmer,
the horse/goat/deer
did disappear.

After the maiden
killed Johny Hayden
she went to her mother,
wise above all other,
and told with great pride
how Johnny had died.
But her mother chastised
to the young one’s surprise
“What you did, my dear,
was done out of fear
of giving your name
but it isn’t the same
in the human mind
as among our kind!
It’s not nearly as sacred!
They shouldn’t earn hatred.
To them, it is polite;
they’re not after your might!
Do not misconstrue,
he wants to know you.
For them, names have no power;
they’re as harmless as flowers!”
With a great terror
she realized her error
and did so despair
at the wretched affair.
“Mother, what should I do?
I am so royally skrewed!”
“I see your eyes glisten,
so take heed and listen.
Wait not for tomorrow,
go sing him your sorrow
using the old lyrics
of the ancient clerics.”
She returned to the wadi
in search of the body.
When she had found it
she did so surround it
her horn touched its wound
as the unicorn swooned.
Could she earn his pardon?
Does death make one harden?
She thought of his death,
said with heavy breath,
“Little Johnny Hayden,
with your death I am laden.
I will sing you the tune
of an ancient rune.
If death won’t dispel,
I shall ring you your knell
and confess my sin
to all of your kin.”
As she sang the song
in her native tongue
there were tears in her eyes
as she watched his chest rise.
But unanticipated
he then dissipated
into a shining mist
that then did persist
to land upon her chest
and into it depress.
The sorrowful mare
was suddenly aware
and rather bemused
at how the magic was used
to create within her
a new mouth needing dinner.