Beauty and the Beast- The Ogre’s Bride
Shrek
In a forest glade, once upon a time in a land afar
Lived an Ogre seeking a mate
And besides him was a spring
From which came out the sweetest water, therein
it became a pond and went on to be a stream
And around the pond formed a beauteous arbour
of light and song, laughter and twitter
Blossoms tittered, lilies with bees flirted and frittered
Birds, butterflies, leaves all a flutter
for the water of the pond was sweet and serene
and from here the Ogre had gone, sought far and wide
for one who would stay besides, yet none came to be his bride
So settled down he, in the glade, with his lute and pond of nectar
One day came along a maiden sweet and fair
Princess of a land she were
The Ogre smitten by aroma of unknown tides and times
got down on his knees forthwith and said ‘Be mine’
The princess was taken aback by this diktat
Whoever had heard of such delusional diatribe?
In which tale was it written, the Ogre
could have a princess as his wife?
Yet out of consideration and compassion
She dallied and parried, neither accepting nor rejecting
While sipping the soothing draught of the pond
and then on sundown left on a well set song
Entering the safe haven of her castle she sighed
That had been a lucky escape! She cried,
Imagine a life as an Ogre’s wife!
Oh where’s my prince who will give me a new life?
The princess forthwith decided to never venture
in the direction of the Ogre or his glade hereafter
Busying herself keeping a look out
for any knight errant who might come hereabout
Yet within her throbbed an unknown ache
Thoughts of the Ogre she couldn’t completely forsake
and there was within her a thirst sublime
for the water of the pond seemed divine
Once she had sipped she experienced a curious thrill
a fortuitous magic within her it seemed to instill
the water had brought within her a new melody she sang
Around her a new tune from the clouds rang
On its sip she awakened a thirst she never knew she had
But go back to the Ogre? You must be mad!
Yet within her was this constant yearn
to take another sip, maybe just wet her lips?
So every once in a while she slipped away
to sip the water without giving herself away
While the Ogre slumbered she slipped into the glade
and even while sipping wondered about the Ogre’s fate
And so this went on for many moons thereafter
the princess at nightfall would slip in
Sip the water and leave like some furtive undine
While the Ogre, to her unknown, under the guise of slumber
Spied on her through the corner of his eyes, and sighed
Until one day the Ogre accosted her
‘Why do you need to slink in, oh beauteous sylph
Pray tell me what is it that you so surreptitiously seek?
It’s simply yours to ask, and forthright shall I freely give!
Yet the princess remained mute, guilty, knowing not
what unknown price might she have to pay
and there was always the fear, that the Ogre
Might again seek her troth as bargain
So silently bidding her adieu, she went away
and for many a days far from the glade did she stay
But after a while she couldn’t resist the call
She had to again sip the soothing draught and catch a glimpse of the Ogre
She continued her clandestine tryst with the pond and its water
Then one day came a knight handsome, fair and fit to measure
Asked the hand of the princess and offered her his lair
and forthwith espoused they went off to the horizon
The princess left her kingdom and along with that the Ogre and his glade
A new life she found for herself
A prince fair and a kingdom besides
Garnished with all the royal embellishments of life
Yet something within her was still, didn’t seem to stir
She suddenly realized her songs were faded memories
and within her was a strange lurch
A storm within her was astir
An unfathomed tempest seemed to catch her unaware
For all the pond’s water she had sipped, seemed to come alive
and within her they set off a strife
Boiling and roiling they robbed her off her peace
The water which made her, seemed to cry amiss
‘This is not our home, this is not where we belong
Take us back to the realm from where we did sprout
Take us there or let us out!’, verily in revolt did they shout
and ’ere the maiden fair was caught in a quandary!
Unknown to her the Ogre had sprouted the spring
from his own soul song, for which he didn’t have the voice to sing
So allowed it to gurgle and mumble in the form of a stream
and the water thence contained his soul, his dream
and now responded to the play of his lute
The soul song within her now astir, dreamt of a Pen
The ravishing swan, which would one day reside in the glade
For all the water she did peculate, she had to pay a price
For all the fount's nectar she had imbibed,
a large part of her, through it, had become the Ogre’s bride!
- Avi
