A contest - write a Breton lai.
How is that done? Oh, okay -
Courtly Love? hmmm - that I've tried,
The first turned wolf; I really cried
At being jilted. But then I thought
I would give it yet another shot.
She lived so far away, we never
Could find how to get together.
And as for the Celtic Otherworld?
I thought about it - my hair curled
In fear. I think that, all in all,
I cannot answer Bardic call.
I'll stick to working in my forge,
And leave the poesy to George.
(Whoever he is *GW)