In a fertile valley in the heart of France
Sat a small village, nestled in
Fields of golden wheat that reached for the sun as far as the eye could see.
A ways off a river gurgled
Past it a forest, tall, dark, and storied,
With trees as ancient as its stories of magic. Here the hero lived
Gaston, the noble hunter.
Strong, tall, and handsome he stood
Dressed in subtle leather: proof of his sucess.
Unparalled in skill and loved by the townsfolk,
A large deer rested on his shoulders. Walking to town up a narrow
                                            pathway
                               winding
                                      out of
                                             the tall trees,
                                                              and through the
                                          sunkissed fields.
He calls on the farmers hard at work,
Jesting and chatting on the long walk to the town. Arriving, he sets out for the butcher's shop,
Selling half of his kill to buy goods,
Giving half to be prepared for the village's needy.
As he chops the butcher tells a story
A beautiful young girl--taken--
Held hostage by a savage and ugly beast,
In an enchanted castle in the forest dark and deep. The tale lay heavy on his heart.
He hurried through his lunch,
Eating only six of the seven courses that frenchmen are oft to have. Rushing to his cabin,
Through the golden fields,
Down the road,
To the cabin,
Grabbing his bow,
Running into the forest,
Searching,
     Searching,
          Searching, until he finds it. A small castle with simple, short walls, yet gracefully decorated.
Banners of blue and gold streaming proudly from the towers,
dancing in the breeze.
It buzzed with a magic energy.
Eerie sounds echoed from deep inside:
A loud scream, or maybe a laugh
A sign of the hostage within. Sneaking on the wall he took a perch.
Thrump! An arrow flies,
                                                                   The beast staggers.
Thrump! An arrow flies,
                                                          The beast falls to his knees.
Thrump! An arrow flies,
                                                   The beast falls. With the beast vanquished,
Gaston rushes to the beauty.
On one knee,
A question is asked,
Music seems to play. In a fertile valley in the heart of France
Sits a small village, nestled in
Fields of golden wheat that reach for the sun as far as the eye can see.
A ways off a river gurgles
Past it a forest, tall, dark, and storied,
With trees as ancient of its stories of magic.
In it an enchanted castle, home of newlyweds.