David and the Wolf: A Cautionary Tale

In days of old, when knights were bold
And monsters didst abound;
One spirited squire, to glory aspired
And thought to seek it underground.

Though eager, tis true, the squire he knew
To rush in upon dangers beneath
Would swiftly wend to a most sticky end
So he first sought out Caver Keith.

That wizened enchanter, was not enthused by this banter
(He was cosy at home, in his slippers
And had no desire to be torn from his fire
By unseasoned, unwary day-trippers.)

But the squire persisted until Keith desisted
And consented - upon the conditions -
That the nagging would cease; he would be left in peace
To reminisce with his fellow magicians.

Keith’s first cunning scheme to subvert this mad dream
Was to conjure a kit list of length:
No mere man could sustain the tackle sack’s strain
Surely the squire would not have the strength?

Though the weight was colossal, the squire was no fossil
(And he had eaten his Weetabix for breakfast)
So through the iron doors, into OFD’s jaws,
They delved deep into the darkness at last!

As a second stratagem, this quest to condemn
Keith had invited along the squire’s missus
Their pace thus affecting for she was six months expecting
So went slowly with wheezing and hisses.

Keith started to send his charge down dead ends
In the hope that he’d grow weary or bored
But each time the squire returned still a’fire
For monsters to despatch with his sword.

The wizard, now much vexed, contemplating what next
Recalled a contrivance compelling:
“Now, If you still dare” (he thus laid his snare)
“There’s a fiend most foul smelling, dwelling in a lair quite repelling - in dire need of quelling – ideally expelling:
And this origin of a thousand conspiracy theories
Can be found in the depths of the Prokofiev Series!”

“Lead on!” urged the squire, his ambition soaring higher
At this prestigious path to elation.
So by a circuitous way, ne’er suspecting foul-play
He followed Keith to that perilous location.

He fought through the squeeze, slightly skinning his knees
Then balanced across the crevasse
Till he came to a cliff: a climb indeed stiff
But there the squire met with impasse:

For from the top of the climb there came a fell whine:
A hideous, blood-curdling screech!
The squire’s knees trembled, his bowels disassembled
And he hurried back over the breach.

So adventurers be warned – tis better to be scorned
As a coward than to come face to face
With the demonic queries of the Prokofiev Series
And the cave-wolves that lurk in that place.

Cavers: Keith, Anne and Dave
Photos: Keith
Trip report: Anne
Photos: Keith