“Sir Slugalot’s Quest”
(A Slightly Sticky Saga)
Sir Slugalot slid from his mossy old bed,
A helmet of thimble plonked on his head.
He dreamed of great glory, of dragons and fame—
Though moving an inch took a whole hour’s aim.
“I’m off!” cried the slug with a gallantish squeak,
“I’ll conquer the mountain by the end of the week!”
His mum packed him lettuce and two soggy scones,
And warned him to not poke the garden gnomes.
He slithered through puddles, past beetles and bees,
Got stuck in a boot, and then lost both his knees—
(Not literally gone, but he wasn’t quite sure,
For slugs are a mystery with legs that obscure.)
He battled a breeze and a leaf with sharp corners,
Outwitted a gang of snail-brained marauders.
He tamed a wild worm with a licorice whip,
And performed CPR when a toad did a flip.
At last, he arrived at the great garden gate,
Just moments behind…a much faster snail mate.
The crowd gave a cheer! (Or perhaps it was yawns.)
They crowned him with dandelions and knitted pompons.
So if ever you think that you’re sluggish or slow,
Just think of Sir Slugalot, hero of woe.
He might not be speedy or terribly bright—
But he did win the joust with a glow-in-the-dark kite.
The Crazymad Writer Writes Again 