Saturday, 31 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 36) by Grant Harbison

“My little one, don’t let yer anger accrue,” said Gypsy Jess to Ilirium. “I promise ye that justice will ensue.”
“I cannot blame Blaine. The consumption of strong brew affects his brain. I do require punishment for the other two. What are you planning to do?”
“Leave that to me, little one. With a host of spells I’ll have my fun. For you I’ll make them suffer for what they have done.”
“I expect they’ll be on the run to escape accusation from an inquisitive nun. Sister Chrusty is very trusty in cases like these. Culprits she can expose with comparative ease.”
“Bring me my ball so that I can see where these scoundrels chose to flee.”
Ilirium gave her the ball and she placed one hand. “They are still on the island, but not in the land.”
“Gypsy Jess, I’m not sure that I understand.”
“To the land of the Scot is what. A blood relation one of them has got. I don’t know which one it be. The vision is cloudy and I cannot see.”
“It must be Borium. He has a Scottish cousin by the name of Deplorium.”
“A sinewy man with a ginger beard has just appeared. He is one to be wary of, but not necessarily feared. I see bodies bein’ dug from graves and he is the one who misbehaves.”
“What would anyone want with the dead? Surely the man must be mad in the head?”
“He doesn’t dig them up for his own pleasure. All he wants to do is steal the treasure.”
“That is so debauched. I’m glad it’s you rather than me that watched.”
Jess took her hand from the ball. “I’m afraid for now that is all. Tomorrow I will try again to see if I can see the other men.”
“And then?”
“And then soon will cast my spell. It’ll be the start of their living hell.” 

Oh, brother (part 35) by Grant Harbison

Like a voracious love parasite
Dirgand sought the pleasures of Shear de Lite
Every day and every night
He was gratified by the hermaphrodite
Sometimes she was a he
And sometimes he was a she
But whichever way they swung
Shear provided ecstasy
“Shear, I think we should wed,” said Dirgand as they lay on the conjugal bed.
“Sire, that would give me so much joy and I know your wish is for a baby boy, but I may not be able to provide your heir, as there is no guarantee that I can bear.”
“Barrenness caused so much strife for my departed wife. It was one of the reasons she took her own life.”
“There may have been another reason you didn’t succeed.”
“Are you suggesting I have ineffective seed?”
“All I am saying is that it possibly may be.”
“No, it can’t be me!”
“Pardon me, sire. I didn’t mean to evoke your ire. If it is so, there is no need to feel ashamed. That’s just life and you can’t be blamed.”
“What is a man if he cannot sire? Many may think that I lack the fire.”
“I’ve never known anyone with so much desire.”
“My need for an heir is rather dire. My name will be lost if it doesn’t transpire.”
“All we can do is leave it to fate and see if it allows us to procreate. “
“Then let us not wait. Come to me now and I’ll try to impregnate.”
“Sire, I’m yours for you to satiate.”


Wednesday, 28 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 34) by Grant Harbison

The monastery was located on top of a hill
A gloomy Gothic structure bereft of frill
Borium and Truman had to grin and bear
As the trek to the top was a laborious affair
“Who goes there?” they heard a voice yell as they reached the last stair. “Tell me who ye are or ye better say a prayer.”
“Deplorium?” asked Borium.
“Aye,” came the reply.
“Deplorium, it’s Borium.”
From the shadows
Deplorium appeared
A wiry little man with a long ginger beard
With a smile on his face he stuck out his hand. “What brings you tae oor bonnie land?”
“To tell you the truth, it wasn’t planned.”
“Nae need tae explain, cousin. Ah understand.”
“At least with you I don’t have to pretend. Deplorium, I’d like you to meet Truman. Brother and friend.”
Deplorium greeted Truman with a firm handshake
Causing Truman to grimace from the unpleasant ache
“Ah’m sure we’ll get on just fine,” said Deplorium. “Any friend o’ Borium is a friend o’ mine. Would ye both like some ale before we dine?”
Borium and Truman nodded their heads
“After that ah’ll organise some beds.”
After many a pail of strong dark ale
And some bread and a boiled neep
Borium and Truman retired for some much needed sleep
But Deplorium was one who hardly slept
And out of the monastery he deftly crept

Monday, 26 October 2015

Guest spot : No evidence, no crime by Maria Manuela Cardiga

Do you all
Remember Alice?
Big-eyed Alice,
Chaste Alice,
With her blue ribbon
And her pretty dress?

How we were all
So impressed...
That Lewis Carroll
(such a kind man)
Took silly Alice
And made her a star.

Twinkle little Alice,
Twinkle from afar!
So Alice twinkled,
But I wonder
Did she cry?

When Uncle Lewis
(such a patient man)
Took her boating
Or walking in the park,
When his hands
Wandered so;
Or even just his eyes,
Did Alice shrink?

Was that
The magic potion
He made her drink?
The poison brew
To make her think
Something was wrong
Something absurd...

That she was a bad girl
Getting upset,
Raising a doubt,
When he was such
A kind, patient
(affectionate) man.

Yes, I think
He poured it out
Into a pretty chalice
And served it to us
With charm:
(such a witty man)

The pain and the fear
And bewilderment
Of silly Liddell Alice
And made himself
A star.

Saturday, 24 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 33) by Grant Harbison

In pelting rain and through sodden sludge
The absconding monks continued to trudge
Over endless hills and through glen after glen
Borium and Truman were very weary men
‘Borium, I must protest!” complained Truman. “It’s been far too long since we’ve had any rest.”
“No, we must continue to go. We’re in the Highlands and there isn’t far to go. The last thing we want is to get caught in snow.” 
“Oh yes, the land of Scots. Not on my list of holiday spots. Too many madmen and intolerable sots.”
“I’m afraid, dear Truman, this is no sojourn. The only alternative is to return and burn.”
All of a sudden they were completely surrounded
The hearts of the monks immediately pounded
“Who are ye and what is yer purpose in the glen?” asked one of the men. “Yer faces are ones ah dinnae ken.”
Borium and Truman felt their legs go weak
And just stared at the man
Unable to speak
“Answer me or ye’ll draw yer last breath. Do ye really want the pain o’ death?”
“Sir, our purpose is not one of treachery,” replied Borium. “We are merely on our way to the monastery.”
“Why should ah believe ye, Sassenach? Yer trespassing on the land o’ Lord MacBlach.”
“Sir, we are simple Brothers called Truman and Borium. At the monastery resides my cousin Deplorium.”
“In that case, ye are free to go. Ah ken the wee scoundrel, so yer definitely not foe.”
Relieved that they never provoked their wrath
Borium and Truman continued on their path 

Thursday, 22 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 32) by Grant Harbison

She was a sour face nun and smelled rather musty
But all were in awe of Sister Agatha Chrustie
A suspicious death or anything shady
Could be quickly solved by this remarkable lady
Agatha gave the body a quick once over
Standing next to her was Brother Grover
“Sister Agatha, am I right in saying that this is not Ilirium we put in the ground?”
“Yes. According to the few things I’ve found, I would say that conclusion is sound.”
“May I ask how you came upon that belief?”
“Good grief, didn’t you notice that this man has few teeth?”
Grover gave his forehead a few slaps. “Perhaps I should have noticed the gaps.”
“The most obvious clue is the size of the feet. Ilirium’s feet are more petite.”
“At that time I never expected deceit. Is your examination complete?”
“Yes, you make inform his next of kin.”
 “Do you think that his twin could have committed this sin?”
“Either him or others within.”
“This is becoming very weird. Two more monks have since disappeared.”
“Rather convenient. Borium and Truman have always been deviant. But let’s not jump to any conclusion. Steadfast persistence will provide a solution.”
“Sister, I’ll help in any way I can. Anything I can do to find this man.”
“Rule number one is never assume. If we didn’t do that there would be no need to exhume. This could have been a man or this could have been a woman. It could have been Borium and it could have been Truman. Always suspect any living human. What really puzzles me is how the cuts are arranged. The pattern suggests someone deranged.”
“There have been problems from a monk from the Emerald Isle. But something like this is not his style.”
“Ah, Brother Blaine. Let me see what I can ascertain.” 

Tuesday, 20 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 31) by Grant Harbison

“Jess, my demise?” queried Ilirium. “Are you sure that is what you saw with your eyes?”
“Yes, little one. The crystal ball never lies.”
“Hell and damnation!” cried Ilirium with frustration. “Could there be another explanation?”
“There be only one other who can enter the bubble, and that would be the perfect double.”
“There is another. He’s called Barium, my twin brother!”
“Then I be certain that yer brother is gone. The image be identical, but different spawn.”
“Did he suffer pain? Please have a look at the ball once again.”
Gypsy Jess placed her hands on the ball. “Oh higher powers, hear my call. Did foul play Barium befall?”
“Do you see anything, Jess? Anything at all?”
“Monk, shoosh ! Nothin’ will come through if ye push.”
“Please accept my humble apologies. I’m not familiar with your ideologies.”
‘I see a man gone insane…sounds like his name is Baine… He is plagued by visions of a man that’s been slain. But he be not totally to blame. The other two carry the real shame.”
“This is insane!” cried Ilirium. “Could that name be Blaine?”
Gypsy Jess removed her hands from the ball
“Jess, is there anything more? Anything at all?”
“There be monks behind this cruel act. The two of them have made a pact. Never to speak of the atrocity. Oh, what duplicity. Dark souls without shame, leavin’ the tortured one to take the blame.”
“Is Barium the one who is dead?”
“Yes, but a similar name came to my head.”
“And what name might that be?”
“Borium, the powers said to me.”          

Sunday, 18 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 30) by Grant Harbison

Elise and Erik couldn’t help but smile
When the boat eventually arrived at the Angel Isle
Each had a reason of their own
And throughout the voyage that eagerness had grown
Derek let out an inaudible groan
When he thought about what he would soon condone
Hoping he will be able to cope
With Elise’s cries of pleasure as other men grope
Although it was her happiness that mattered the most
This was tolerance and consent at the utmost
“Derek, let Erik go and find his monk,” said Elise. “You and I need to find a place to bunk.”
They found accommodation a mile from the shore
At a modest inn called the Badger and Boar
Inside the inn there was a raucous din
A jolly racket from the patrons within
It took a matter of seconds for the noise to cease
When the patrons caught sight of Derek and Elise
“Oh my love, there are men galore,” whispered Elise to Derek. “Get me three, no make that four.”
“For goodness sake, Elise. We’ve just walked through the door.”  
“But this is an urge I can no longer ignore.”
“Well, it will just have to keep. Now let’s find the Keeper for a place to sleep.”
Erik’s hope turned to despair
When he learned at the monastery that Borium wasn’t there
Worst of all
No one knew where
Nor did anyone seem to care
To Erik it seemed that they had something to hide
And just as he was about to force one to confide
A very large monk took him aside
And said, “My name is Blaine. Perhaps I can explain.”


Friday, 16 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 29) by Grant Harbison

Lord Dirgand came out of the tub
Clapped his hands and began to rub
He took deep breaths and his heart pulsated
When he thought of the veritable goddess that waited
The most exquisite beauty he’s ever seen in his life
That far surpassed the loveliness of his departed wife
He moved towards the bed and his newfound lover
And edged himself in under the cover
He reached to touch and his hand caressed
Thrilled by the awareness the she was already undressed
As his hand moved slowly to the desired spot
His carnal desire grew increasingly hot
But seconds later he was up like a shot
And yelled, “What are you and what are you not?”
“Pardon me, sire. Am I not what you desire?”
“Explain to me the best way you can. How can you be a woman and also a man?”
“I’m accustomed to that reaction of disbelief when people get to see what’s underneath. It’s nothing new, but I can assure you that I’m as normal as you. The only difference being is that I was born with two. There are so many things that we can do, but that decision is entirely up to you.”
“I don’t know if I must or if I mustn’t. Which part works and which part doesn’t?”
“Nothing I have is purely for show. Even that which protrudes has the ability to grow.”
“I don’t know whether to say yes or whether to say no.”
“If you never try you’ll never know.”
“I suppose I could give it a go.”
“A decision you will never rue. Now come to me and I’ll show you what I can do.”

Wednesday, 14 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 28) by Grant Harbison

“Brother Borium, we have been summoned to the scriptorium,” said Brother Truman. “Brother Grover wants us to go over.”
Borium let out a sigh. “Did he say why?”
“No, but it can’t be good. I’ve never seen him in such a foul mood.”
“Over something trivial, I’ll bet. Brother, now is not the time to fret.”
“But Borium, my anxiety grows.”
“And it shows. Truman, apart from you and I, nobody knows.” 
“I suppose.”
“Grover so loves being in command. Most likely he heard that we broke curfew and he wants to reprimand.”
“Yes, Brother Borium, you are probably right. Sorry, I’m just feeling a little uptight.”
“Look, if it’s something else and something doesn’t feel right; even if it’s slight, we shall pack our things and leave tonight.”
“I’m still not keen on going away, but best we go and hear what he has to say.”
“Good morning, Brother Grover,” greeted Borium as he and Truman entered the scriptorium.”
Grover didn’t hesitate to berate. “You are late. Tardiness is something I don’t tolerate.”
“We’re sorry you had to wait,“  said Borium. “ Your forgiveness we would appreciate.”   
“Well now that you are here, there’s something I want you to hear, and perhaps you could fill me in. Did either of you know that Brother Ilirium has a twin?”
Truman stared at Borium and felt his heart sinking
Borium kept his composure and replied, “No, I didn’t have an inkling.”
“A woman came to me in utter despair and claimed that he’s just vanished into thin air. Barium is his name. According to her they are identically the same. Apart from a single mark. It’s on his right leg and rather stark.”
Borium felt his heart begin to pound. “Brother Grover, do you wish to have him found?”
“No, I want to see who we’ve put in the ground.” 

Monday, 12 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 27) by Grant Harbison

At the Goblet and Grail
The brothers Conn were knocking back the ale
Whilst Blaine sat pensively nursing his pail
“Are ye in pain, Blaine?” asked John. “Is there somethin’ that’s makin’ ye ail?”
“Aye, what’s goin’ on?” asked Lepre Conn. “What’s causin’ yer mood? The Blaine that I know would never brood.”
“I’m not bein’ rude and I’d tell ye what’s up if only I could,” replied Blaine. “There is somethin’ happenin’ to me that I can’t explain.” 
“There’s been many a time I’ve seen that stare,” said Ayre. “I would say that love is in the air.”
“You cagey cod!” exclaimed Mod. “Who is she, Blaine? Who is causin’ you such sweet pain?”
“I’ve met a lass called Mistress Paine, but she is not the one who is causin’ my strain. It’s these visions I’ve been havin’ again and again. The most horrible visions of a man that has been slain.”
Lepre gave him a look of concern. “Sometimes visions are hard to discern. Do ye know where the crime took place? Do ye see the killer or the victim’s face?”
“I’ll tell ye this, and I tell ye no lies. I am lookin’ through the killer’s eyes.”
All four brothers stared at him in surprise.
“I’m the one who is givin’ chase. I recognise the place, but never once do I see the victim’s face.”
“I know you sometimes have a problem with the brew,” said John. “But cold blooded murder you could never do.”
“Aye, that’s true,” Lepre agreed. “But is there more to suggest that it might be you?”
“The killin’ in the dream is never revealed. I see him once again when his fate has been sealed. Lyin’ face down in the mud, with his upper body drenched with blood.”
“It could be some persistent nightmare,” said Ayre. “But to be on the safe side, ye best be aware.”    
“Best not to mention this to another soul,” said Mod. “Or ye could find yersel’ charred at the execution pole.”
“It’s wonderful to know that I have friends I can trust,” said Blaine. “The mystery shall unravel. Surely it must.”

Sunday, 11 October 2015

Guest spot: Guilty as charged by Maria Manuela Cardiga

Claude and Maud
Were flawed.

They were the kind
Of couple you avoid
On principle at parties;
The kind that makes you
Want to sign petitions
To place restrictions
On the unsupervised
Of the citizens
Of our fair Nation.

I know that sounds bad...
But really, what can I say?
Maud and Claude
Were flawed,
And not in
An interestingly
Artistic way.

Oh no!
Not Claude and Maud!
They were bored,
And so, of course,
Were boring.

In a perfect world
This could have been
Overcome if they were poor.
Poverty; paucity of means
Makes people resilient,
If not always brilliant.

But alas Maud and Claude
Had a Trust Fund.
Millions carefully squirreled
Away by some ancestor
And passed down or willed
To these two, who
Were only too thrilled
To spend it all
In as unwise and
Frivolously futile a way
As could be devised.

(yes Officer, I was
advised of my rights!)

So as I was telling you,
Claude and Maud
Walked into my Gallery
A week ago
And had the audacity
To make a bid
On the most delicate
And delicious
Little Matisse…
Just as lovely a piece
As you can imagine!

(Would you please stop
Blabbering about a lawyer?
You keep interrupting
My story!)

The truth of the matter is,
They bought the painting.
They signed the check,
And I signed
The deed of sale,
And that is when
This little tale
Went pear-shape-
Cause Maud exclaimed:
“Oh no! Claude!
Look! That shade
Will just clash terribly
With the new drape!”
And she pointed her
French-manicured claw-
(No, I don’t give a shit
About the Miranda law!)
At the heavenly hue
Behind the dancer’s
Left boob.

“Never mind pet!”
Claude consoled her
“I have a tin of
Clover Green
In the garage
I’ll just brush
It over that awful blue…”

And then, Officer,
I swear it’s true!
I  just felt that
Phillip Stark cork-screw
In my hand
And that
Was the end of that.

In my defence?
Well, I don’t have one!
You see, the Matisse
Was just so perfect?
And Maud and Claude
So flawed?
That I thought
The trade
Quite worth it…

Friday, 9 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 26) by Grant Harbison

Ilirium and the group were rudely awoken
Shortly after dawn had broken
By the sound of bells and a multitude of yells
Grudgingly they raised their weary heads
And left the comfort of their makeshift beds
They shook with fear and were totally confounded
When they saw that they were completely surrounded
By a Saxon horde
Each one wielding a shield and sword
“I am Lord Dirgand and I demand to know what you are doing on my land!” yelled one on a horse to the eccentric band. “Speak, I command!”
“Begging your pardon, sire. We were unaware,” said Gypsy Jess. “I humbly ask your forgiveness and our lives to spare.”
“You expect to be let off so easily? Accept your apology and let you go free? I’ll only do that if there is something that you can offer me.”
“Of course, sire. Whatever it is you so desire.”
He stared at Shear de Lite and began to salivate. “The tall bosomy one would make the perfect mate. My wife recently passed without leaving me an heir. Release her to me and I shall be fair.”
“Sire, I think there is something you should know.”
“Do you dare refuse to let her go?”
“No, but I do feel she may not be your type.”
“Nonsense, she’s a gorgeous specimen and perfectly ripe.”
“Very well, sire. If she is the one you truly admire.”
“Gypsy, it’s for me to decide. And if I say she comes, then with me she will ride.”
Without realising that something wasn’t right
Lord Dirgand rode off with Shear de Lite
“Time to go, we’ll have to be quick,” said Gypsy Jess. “Before he discovers she also has a…”
“Yes,” Ilirium interjected. “Very soon it could be detected.”

Thursday, 8 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 25) by Grant Harbison

“So what do you think of Blaine’s friends?” Truman asked Borium. “The capacity for madness from the Celts transcends.”
“None that I would choose as a friend,” replied Borium. “Each and every one would drive me around the bend. Could you imagine having any one of them as a brother? Lord have mercy on their mother.”
“Out of the brothers, Conn, I don’t mind John. But if truth be told, I find Ayre Conn cold.”
“Yes, Brother Truman, I totally agree. The ice in those eyes really chilled me.”
“The brother Mod is rather odd, wouldn’t you say? Every time I mentioned the moon, he began to bay.”
“Lepre is the one who made me perturbed. He really looks like he’s really disturbed. I mean, someone so wan I have never seen; and that croaky voice and clothes so green?”
Truman began to chuckle. “And that silly hat and the band with a buckle.”
“Let’s get finished with our chores. What do you say to a yard of ale and some of Madam Maude’s whores?”
“I would say that sounds good. Tonight I’d say that I’m really in the mood.”
“We deserve a little celebration. We wormed our way out of a sticky situation.”
 “But Borium, what if Ilirium returns? There is nothing more painful than the stake’s gruesome burns.”
“Truman, don’t you worry. I’d make sure that we got out in a hurry. Danger, one cannot see, but nothing will happen soon, please trust me.”
“Oh, those flames with the crackling lick. The stench of the victims makes me sick.”
“Truman, the first sign of danger I will surely predict. And we shall go forth to the land of the Pict.”
Truman looked at Borium with shock. “No, not the land of the Jock.”
“Not very pleasant, but better than the dock. So you better make sure you have extra socks. Pairs for our feet and pairs for our…”
“Yes, Brother Borium, I gather what you are saying. I don’t wish it to come to that. That I am praying.”    

Haven by Grant Harbison

A wish
Ostensibly candid desire
But not enough to fuel the fire
Too readily quenched
My Achilles is well and truly entrenched
Immune to resistance
Sagacity lingers at a distance
Barriers built
Susceptible only to seeping guilt
But the hedonist is so hard to quash
To acquiesce
To the pseudo haven that masks distress

Tuesday, 6 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 24) by Grant Harbison

Meanwhile in the land of the Nord
Elise Dunn
The former nun
Was agitated and terribly bored 
Although it was still Derek she truly adored
And her rights as a woman were never ignored
It simply just wasn’t enough
Derek was failing to please Elise
And satisfaction she’s just had to bluff
“Oh, Derek, such a pity about Erik,” she said as they lay in bed. “If only I could remove the monk from his head. Get him to like women instead.”
“No matter what anyone does, no matter what anyone says, nothing will make Erik change his ways. I don’t know what’s suddenly got into you. I thought we were happy, just us two.”
“And that is true,” she lied. “You know how to keep me satisfied. But I want an experience like never before. Three in the bed, or maybe even four. Do that for me. My love, I implore.”
“Never would I have imagined you would have such a yen for men. I shall allow it once, but never again.”
“Thank you, my love; it will bring me much joy. And perhaps you may enjoy watching me and another boy.”
“But we must leave this land otherwise I’d look a fool. They’d see me as a Viking with a useless tool. A warrior who is much too placid. Rumour would have it that I am flaccid.”
“Yes, my dear; I truly understand. Let’s depart to the Anglo land. I’m sure upon the Angel Isle; there are plenty of men, young and virile. You’ve made me so happy I could verily scream. I’m so excited to fulfil this dream.”
“Maybe Erik should come too. I’ve never seen my brother so utterly blue. Maybe that’s where he belongs; back with the monk he so earnestly longs.”
“Little Borium, I truly despise. But I’d just like to see his look of surprise when Erik reclaims his former prize.” 

Sunday, 4 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 23) by Grant Harbison

“Gypsy Jess, you are simply the best,” declared Ilirium. “I speak from the heart and do not jest.”
“Thank you my little one. Yer heart be blessed. But best ye get dressed so that I can introduce ye to the rest.”
“Before we go, there is something I must address. I really don’t feel comfortable wearing a dress.”
“Oh, now that’s a pity. I really think ye look so pretty. But let me look and see if I mights be able to find ye a tunic and tights.” 
Jess searched through a large wooden chest
And pulled out some tights, a tunic and vest
“Put them on, it’s time to eat. And don’t be alarmed by the people ye’ll meet.”
“Why might I be alarmed? I don’t wish to meet them if I’ll be harmed.”
“What I mean is don’t ye fright. Some of them don’t be a pretty sight.”
And Gypsy Jess was absolutely right
There was the flirtatious and foxy Abigail
With the batting eyes and vixen’s tail
The large breasted and muscle bound hermaphrodite
Who went by the name of Shear de Lite
Paul, the extremely tall vociferous Gaul
Aba Azure
The one eyed Moor
Albert von Stanick
The Germanic manic
But all in all they were a hearty group
And there was joy and laughter as they continued to scoop
From the large cauldron with the wild mushroom soup
All except for Malcolm Horn
The miserable midget who eyed him with scorn
Ilirium mentioned it to Jess later that night
“Don’t worry about him,” she said. “He’s just uptight. Now come sit with me and see what might befall. Let’s see our future in my crystal ball.”
Jess looked into the ball and struggled for breath
“Oh my little one, I’ve just seen your death!”
“When? Tell me, I pray!”
“I don’t understand. It happened yesterday!”  

Thursday, 1 October 2015

Oh, brother (part 22) by Grant Harbison

What a palaver just for a cadaver
It wasn’t an easy task getting rid of Barium
And it was a huge undertaking trying to carry him
But eventually they triumphed and managed to bury him
And even Grover was convinced that the body was Ilirium
Blaine was confused as to who had died
“A visiting monk,” Borium had lied.
Because if Blaine knew the truth
He would be mortified
After the service they went to the wake
Where there were buckets of ale and plenty of cake
That’s where Borium and Truman made a pact
That never again would they talk about the act
As Idle chatter could be a big mistake
Something that could see them burnt at the stake
Blaine rushed off to go and see Paine
Who fervently whipped him again and again 
Listening to his passionate cries
Tears began to flow from her bright blue eyes
Never had she felt so much love before
She knew it had to be sore
As she saw how the whip ripped and tore
Yet still dear Blaine cried for more
After it was over they had a kiss and a cuddle
But on the way home his head was in a muddle
Something about the previous night
Something didn’t feel right
And it troubled him much as he walked the last mile
But soon his frown turned to a smile
When he recognised three friends from the Emerald Isle
Waiting for him at the monastery
Dear friends he so longed to see
The Brothers Conn
Lepre, Ayre, Mod and John