NaPoWriMo #20: The Tale of Hannah Twynnoy

On the twentieth day of NaPoWriMo, my poetry said to me: "How about another tiger poem?". Well, I'm only too happy to oblige, so here's a poem inspired by the apparently true story of 18th Century barmaid Hannah Twynnoy. Where's the tiger in this? Read on and you'll see.

The Tale of Hannah Twynnoy

A long time ago, three centuries ago,
in the town of Malmesbury,
there lived a barmaid
named Hannah Twynnoy.

Now the pub Hannah worked at
was called the White Lion.
Such a name could have been a hint
of how things would transpire.

One day some animals came
to live in the pub's back yard.
Hannah spotted a tiger amongst them,
never had she seen a cat so large.

So fearsome yet held behind bars,
she saw no harm in provoking the beast.
She overestimated the patience of tigers
and things went more than a bit too far.

Now Hannah lies in the grounds of the abbey,
her headstone recording her last day alive,
when the tiger's patience finally snapped
and there was nowhere left to hide.