Wild Woman Fairy Tale

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Wild Woman once was a damsel

who mistakenly thought

she was in distress,

with no prince to scale the castle walls 

or slay a dragon for her.

She thought Heathcliff was

the most romantic figure ever:

the moors, the angst, the ghosts

clawing at the window.

"Sign me up," she prayed,

heart beating pitter-pat.

She waited hopefully for a time,

till eventually a Questionable Suitor

stumbled across the doorstep,  

and rang the castle bell. 

She surveyed this drooping, surly creature, 

leaning against the doorjamb,

picking his nails,

with some dismay. 

But he was the only one who came

so, with a mental shrug, she let him in.

Maybe he was Heathcliff,

disguised as a Slightly Irritable Ingrate?

She set to work.

She had to machete a way 

through the thicket of thorns

to clear a path for him.

She had to challenge the fiery dragon,

while the Prince hid, quaking,

pretending he was busy

Attending to Business

with his six-pack.

Then he accused her of

“trying to wear the pants.”

Pretty soon she grew weary 

of hunting wild beasts for two,

tired of dragging them back to the fire 

to skin and roast,

tired of serving the meal

and cleaning up 

all the blood and gore.

Bad-tempered men no longer

seemed romantic; they were

curmudgeons who resisted

available happiness.

She could play them a love song;

but they would never hum along.

Let's leave them to their dark, angsty moors.

“I Can’t Get No

Appreciation”, she hummed,

a crooked eyebrow lifting

as she saw a portal opening

in her mind.

She banished Prince Cedric

to the Land of Men,

became a vegan,

fortified her turret

with a stack of good books,

surveying her new life with pleasure.

With her two black guard-wolves,

she roasted some marshmallows 

in the fire to celebrate,

then retreated to the tower

to survey her own

Perfectly Peaceable Kingdom.

313 words for my prompt at Real Toads: moors, castle ruins, the faint tinkle of a piano...........tell me a tale in poetry or prose, in 313 words or less!