Junior Member
Posts: 41
Joined: 27.11.10
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So at my school we are reading the Canterbury Tales, and our teacher wanted us to write our own story like the Canterbury Tales.
Let me know what you think.
Canterbury Group Project
Our separate adventures bring us here,
At the inn known as, “The Fall Cup Of Cheer.”
On the outskirts of London, it is found.
Heading to Birmingham, we are all bound.
The bad weather has kept us here for days.
Most of us are stuck eating only maize.
But not I for father is a noble.
We will eat well until we are mobile.
My father has enough to share with us all,
But he cannot pass his big greedy wall.
He is a positively wretched man,
Daddy covers his bald spot when he can.
His clothes cost him a great sum, not only
Due to the size. It upon a pony,
Its back he would surely break. He never
Gotten money on his own endeavor,
He offers to protect local merchant,
For a small fee. Those who deny their tents
From where they sell products may suffer theft.
Our last two guards haven’t went and left,
Are a def and a mute. My father seeks
Another ones service. Not just some meeks.
A knight he wants, the one here at the inn.
This large man isn’t a stranger to sin.
Dressed in chain mail, and black leather stood tall.
Looking for money, he left the Rings hall.
His service goes to the highest bidder.
His opinion on chivalry is a bitter.
A great sword he bears, strung up on his back,
Many lives cut short since its left the rack.
He drinks more booze than anyone else here.
But he starts to cry, after enough beer.
In remembrance of only loves death,
When he starts yelling with all of his breath.
The yeoman is brave enough to oppose,
A hunter by trade, who see’s none as foes.
He is of a slimmer build then the knight.
Despite that he would win in a fair fight.
With all of us he doesn’t seem to blend.
It seems that the begger is his one friend.
The begger stranded in tattered clothing,
Is never even seen to be mourning.
Despite his poor for tunes, and lack of gold.
I guess some lose care for that when your old.
My father is repulsed by his mere sight.
And he is treated like dirt by the knight.
The wrench’s favorite is stuck in bed.
A motherly type, blonde hair on her head.
I’m guessing she is about father’s age.
She seems to always calm the knight from rage.
She is the owner of a large brothel.
I don’t even know if that is lawful.
She seems to visit a lot of men’s rooms.
Except the jester, who enjoys balloons.
He is dressed in very bright reds, and yellows.
He has every mood except for mellow.
He sings about a twisted melody.
He lacks any sense of fidelity.
Given to his mother who he slaughtered,
He lost his sanity when he fought her.
A lot of us think he is safe enough.
Plus he doesn’t seem like he is that tough.
But his dagger on his hip, does strike fear.
Luckily his laugh shows that he is near.
The weather is soon going to be cleared.
And you know who is liked, and who is feared.
The journey may soon start, but not before
The begger suggests all of us tell lore.
A story or two, that comes from our past,
The noble going first and the wench last.
The begger stated me as judge, for I
Am a child, and would not want to lie.
The last thing in the beggers possession,
An ancient amulet he got from kin.
He offers as reward, for the best tale.
*Included page breaks for easier reading*
Sé Onr Sverdar Sitja Hvass!
Atra Esterní Ono Thelduin,
Mor'ranr Lífa Unin Hjarta Onr,
Un Du Evarínya Ono Varda!
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