Anyway, any help is appreciated!
Brewyn the Liar
This story begins in a house, by a fire.
Propped in his armchair sat Brewyn, a liar.
Now I warn you this story, is not for the faint of heart.
This halfer’s morals were quite far apart.
So in a chair he sat, free of labour and strife.
Wherein, through the hill door, stepped Annie, his wife.
She stooped to his side, and assaulted his ear.
She nagged, whilst he pretended not to hear.
“This harvest,” she scolded, “has not been brought in.”
“And those cloaks,” she informed him, “have worn very thin.”
“You have chores not done, and that condemns us ill.”
“And by winter, I tell you, your tummy won’t fill!”
With a cry and a holler, he made quite a show.
“Oh, blasted woman! It was done ages ago!”
“The fruit I picked yesterweek I stored down in the cellar.”
“And new cloaks, finest of make, I just bought from some fella.”
He prodded and teased her, made a big deal.
“The bitter and cold, this Fall you won’t feel!”
“I’ve worked and I’ve worked. Worked myself red!”
“I did this and more, just to keep you fed!”
With that he stormed out the door, all in a huff.
But when, out of sight, he cried “I still need all that stuff!”
He rushed in a panic, looking for a stall.
But, as predicted, they had closed for the Fall.
Every Halfling, everyone who had worked oh-so-hard,
had all been ready, even the bard.
All sat cosy, with food and with wine.
The work month was over, so they had a good time.
Brewyn knocked on their doors, but to no avail.
None like a liar and so none answered his hail.
Brewyn sat and he cried, all in a pity.
When down fluttered a fairy, to sing him a ditty!
“Please listen dear, as I do this dance,
I shall, as a fairy, give you one chance.”
“If in truth you answer, then you shall be spared.”
“If a lie, you tell, then you should be scared.”
She asked her question, and watched how he fared.
“Next year, and next harvest…will you be prepared?”
He did do his best, he really did try.
But when he open his lips, out popped a lie.
“Well I would’ve been ready,” he said, the loudest he could’ve.
“If you hadn’t have stopped me, I probably would’ve!”
With a scowl, the fairy flew far away.
“If you hadn’t lied, you’d have lived another day.”
Brewyn hung his head, and made for his hill.
Annie was right…they were condemned ill.
The liar sat right back down in his seat.
The unfortunate sod, simply relaxed his feet.
An evening passed, Brewyn stayed in his chair.
Snow fell that night, frosted the morn air.
They ran out of wood, and so out went the fire.
And frozen in his chair, sat Brewyn… the liar.