Lestillap

My father sits beside the fire,
mother plays upon her lyre.
And we all dance and sing and clap,
for all know the song of the Lestillap.

It causes the wind, it causes the rain,
To kill it knights came, again and again.
They offered a maiden, a sweet lady true,
They called "Lestillap, O! We have something for you!"
Patiently waiting, listening, and then!
O, what a bother, it is but a wind.
A shuffle a shiver a shriek and a shake,
"I do not care for her, who shall I take?"
The knights run pell-mell through the streets of the town,
But the bravest of all is a girl, in a gown.
The Lestillap laughed "Ho Ho! Hee Hee!"
"I shall take this young lass who has stood up to me!"
The girl's hair lay flat, the color of hay,
While Lestillap chuckled, gleeful and gay.
"Ha Ha! Hoo Hoo! I know where I'll take you!"
"You'll come to the cave, where the spindlegrass grew!"
She did not make a move to follow,
And Lestillap's fiery gaze was hollow.
A mythical light beam of magic did start,
And slowly some good went to Lestillap's heart.
Lestillap's silvery tear fell far down,
And landed in front of the girl in the gown.
Instead of a splash, it made quite a sound,
For a gem in its place was there on the ground.
With a moan and a groan and a close of his lashes,
In Lestillap's place was a pile of ashes.
She remembered his fiery eyes and shivered with fright,
But the boy in his place was on odd sort of sight.
A boy? Who are you? What boy?
"My name is Lestillap!" O, joy!
They walked back through the streets of town,
And she was praised, the girl in the gown.

My father, Lestillap, by the fire,
And the girl in the gown, playing the lyre.