A long time ago in the hills of New York
Lived a balding an grizzled old friar
Whose cabin was set on a medium hill,
For ages he'd wished to be higher.
He packed up his gear, decided to leave,
And so from his abode set forth
With nowt but a stick, a bag full of grub,
And a compass to point his way north.
He passed the great lake, 'twas too far across,
'Til he found the Saint Lawrence river,
Decided to camp on the bank for the night,
Piled leaves up to ward off a shiver.
He woke with the dawn, caught a fish for to eat
Then readied himself for the trek.
A fisherman rowed him across the St. L
The ride made him a nervous wreck.
When safely across he blessed the young lad
And thanked him so much for the ride,
Then continued north on his wobbly legs,
In truth he was sea sick inside.
Now in the fair land of the red maple leaf
He noticed the going was steep,
The berries and nuts were not food enough
And he needed a warm place to sleep.
He crested a hill and saw a clear spot
With a cabin quite rustic but pretty,
And couldn't but help to wonder aloud
If the owner on him might take pity.
He knocked on the door and was startled to see
That it opened just an inch or two
To reveal a form, some long golden hair,
And eyes that were startling blue.
In a quavering voice (he'd been walking a while)
He started to explain his plight,
But was quickly stopped when the door opened wide
To reveal a most gorgeous sight.
She asked if he needed some shelter and food,
And set about brewing some tea.
Accepting, he thanked her and then asked her name,
"It’s Anna that my friends call me."
"Well, Anna my dear, you have saved this man's life,
Of sustenance I am in need.
I'll have a wee bite, a sip of some ale,
And my nose says you've just smoked some weed."
Now Anna was a bit taken aback,
She said she'd no need of a sermon.
The friar just laughed, said "I've been defrocked,
And by the way, just call me Herman.
I found, a while back, while giving it thought
I never should have been a friar
I did some ten years 'fore giving it up.
I thought of myself as a liar."
Then Anna exclaimed, "You seem a good sort,
You might as well stay here and rest.
I'll cook you a meal, we'll have a few laughs
'Cause the stuff that I smoke is the best."
The story ends here, he never moved on,
Deciding that he should retire
At this lovely spot in the northern hills,
No more with a need to get higher.
F.A.Zedik
03-05-03