A Bard's Bad Luck

Sing to me Muse, of a day of your choosing
I hope it’s not rude, but somewhat amusing
We’ve all travelled far and await in suspense
As your bard I now ask, please commence.

The day was short but the sun still hot
A sundial displayed it was one o’clock
What happened that day was enough to shock
An Athenian man stole a cow and time stopped.

Helios’ rage on that short summer’s day
Had him fuming and musing over who should then pay
I alone know the culprit and surely, I’ll say
He is a giant in size with a scar on his face.

The scar in question is the shape of a bull
Six inches wide and not equally tall
It’s said he’s gifted with words and tells stories to all
And rarely goes hungry so is usually full.

Well, it may seem that my Muse is a rat
I have that scar on my face and I’m more than quite fat
Yes, I travel and talk and write as I walk
But muses can lie through their teeth, with eyes of a hawk.