336 – The Dreams Of Zonko Merehban

Poem number 336


The Dreams of Zonko Merehban


Long ago and far away, beside an endless sea

A boy called Zonko Merehban lay sleeping, by a tree

He dreamed of kings and castles, of knightly quests and deeds

Of fire-breathing dragons, magic swords and trusty steeds


He dreams now of a messenger, come riding through the glen

“Sir Zonko, sire, a message! From your own dear Lady Gwen!”

Sir Zonko reads the letter through, his face turns beetroot red

He throws the parchment to the floor, “Gadzooks! I’ll have his head!”

He turns to his companion, Sir Sinjan Guydebo

Cries “Sinjan! To your horse my friend – its off to war we go!

That bounder Baron Balamire has taken Lady Gwen

He’s locked her in the tower and won’t let her out again!

He means to take my dearest love for wife, but I say Nay!

We’ll ride into his Kingdom and by God we’ll make him pay!”


Sir Zonko and his dearest friend embark upon their quest

They ride from North right down to South, and East across to West

For forty days and nights they ride, through wind and driving sleet

O’er mountain high and valley low, through forests rough and neat

Until, at last, there’s comes a morn when – there! Beyond that hill!

A castle dwarfs the skyline, filled with menace and with ill

At last! The Baron Belamire! Salvation is in sight

For the lovely Lady Gwendoline, here come the Hero Knights!

Sir Zonko and Sir Sinjan don their armour, raise their shields

Set charge for Castle Belamire, and race across the fields

“Tally ho! You scoundrel! Come out here and pay your dues!

I’ll teach you not to steal my love, we’ll fight – and you will lose!”

The Baron rides to meet his foes, the battle’s short and sweet –

Sir Zonko is unbeatable, the Baron tastes defeat!

They lock him in his tower, and they triple bolt the door

He can stay in there forever, or at least ’til half past four

And the Lady Gwen herself, she swoons, she falls in Zonko’s lap

While Sir Sinjan smiles in triumph, and politely doffs his cap.

“My lady, you need sustenance, here – let me fetch a cup

Of wine and then some Zonko. Zonko. Zonko, dear wake up!”


Beside the tree the boy awakes, his mother crouched in low

“Zonko dear, it’s lunchtime, come on home now, don’t be slow”

“Oh Mother – I was dreaming! I fought battles as a knight!”

“That’s lovely dear, but let’s go home, it’s time to have a bite”

And so the brave Sir Zonko takes her hand, and off they go

But he’ll dream again tomorrow, and defeat another foe

He’ll dream again tomorrow, slay a dragon, win a war

Whilst his body lies beside the tree, he’ll bravely dream once more.


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