The Malebête is a monstrous French bear known for his taste for pretty girls. Creep.
He was turned to stone by a priest, and can be found to this day, staring down from the church. It is apparently not a good idea to make eye contact.
I liked the pretty ones.
That sounds unsavoury.
Haven’t you found, though
It feels like the flavour is
Better, when food looks
Aesthetically pleasing?
You’ll pay more for pretty food:
There is no reason
That perfect potatoes
Should taste any better
But somehow they do.
And so if I could get her,
I’d eat a fair maiden
Or two, thee or four.
The villagers soon found this
Hard to ignore.
After an especially
Good-looking feast
My repose was disturbed
By a silver-haired priest.
Now, I do prefer girls,
but I’m very broad-minded
And I liked the way
That his little cross shined: it
Was oddly hypnotic
My heart gave a lurch
I leapt up and followed him
Right to his church.
At the very last minute,
He turned, and he tossed
His rosary beads round my neck
All was lost!
They turned me to stone
And to this day I’m glowering
Down at the village
From here, on the tower.
And seeing those sweet girls
I just cannot stand:
If I cannot have them,
Then nobody can.
Yes, I liked the pretty ones.
Think that I’m shallow?
Then you shouldn’t mind
Turning blotchy, and sallow.
Each girl who is caught
In my cold, stony stare
Will loses her good looks:
I’m a bitter old bear.
Tom Juniper Poetry 