by Ethan
In a far off kingdom there lived a king,
By the kingdom there was a forest with trees old as time,
The King had a tunic with a deep shade of purple,
bars and coins made of pure gold,
A fair wife who was fertile with an eir,
He had it all, almost a little too much,
One day he became greedy,
And ordered hunters and lumberjacks to cut down the trees and slaughter the animals of the forest,
It was a grim day,
The tree that was the oldest and biggest went down first,
The villagers called it grandfather,
It went down in a crash,
Grandfather and the other trees were cut down and sold for money,
But no bad deed goes unpunished,
So the next morning the king went to put on his tunic and crown,
The rare jewels on his tunic shone in the sunlight,
And his beautiful lavender tunic,
Turned into a potato sack in an ugly shade of brown,
“The court will make a fool of my garments!” the king screamed in horror like a little boy, “At least I still have my wealth!”
All the servants held themselves from bursting into laughter as the king stepped down the stairs,
“You dare to laugh at a king!” His yell echoing through the palace,
“At least a king even has a crown to wear and a tunic to show.” A servant muttered to another.
He then went down to the hall to count his gold,
But as soon as the coins touched his finger tips they turned into a massive swarm of locusts,
That ravaged the village’s crops,
Making the king and his kingdom poor,
Some servants laughed and laughed, while others realized that they would go hungry that day.
“You all must cease your laughter! Or your head will be fed to the locusts!” the king yelled. The room went silent.
He fixed his hair and took a breath. “Now, what is on the schedule for today?”
“Today your wife is expected to give birth to your son, my king.” A servant trembled.
“Great then, escort me to the birthing room where my wife lay.” The king responded.
The queen lay in the bed, nervous and stressed.
“She is in labor sir. Now my queen, you must push!” The midwife reassured.
The queen pushed and pushed, almost to the point of passing out,
Finally the baby came out,
But, it was not a normal infant boy like the king and queen had expected,
It was instead a giant warthog,
With tusks the size of your arm,
And eyes red as blood.
The warthog trashed the palace,
Ripping wall paper,
Tearing curtains,
And smashing plates.
Stabbing local villagers with his mighty tucks,
“I have birthed a monster!” the queen screamed, her wig nearly falling of,
The king’s mouth was left a gape from astonishment,
He knew what he had to do now.
He went to the forest,
He planted many seedlings and watered them,
Allowing the forest to grow back to its former glory,
And then left a lock of his hair,
A drop of his blood,
And a bottle of his wine at the forest,
The forest was abundant once again,
And so was the kingdom,
The sack he wore turned back into his tunic,
The infestations of locusts turned back into coins,
And the warthog turned back into his beautiful baby son,
So every year the villagers always went to the forest and made sure
To plant a seedling,
To leave of lock of their hair,
To collect of a drop of their blood,
And bring their best wine.