Every Childlike Author needs a Playground.

The Alliteration of William Tell

An arrow and an apple in Altdorf—an amazing adventure. An archer aroused an armed resistance against antagonistic Austrian authority.

Burdens began to bite the backs of blacksmiths, beggars, bakers, boarding-house boarders, and bowmen. But the most bothersome burden was to bow before a baron’s bonnet.

Could courageous William Tell consider collaborating with this cursed custom? Cowardly curmudgeons callously called him out, but Tell commendably couldn’t curb his character—consequences quickly came calling.

Derisively dirty denizens dragged the dear descendant of Tell down to a deciduous tree. Deftly they bound dear Walter to the determining dogwood, declaring Tell’s disobedient demarcation.

Evilly ecstatic, Gessler, that effluent egoist, eclipsed his own eminence. Eloquently emphatic, he enacted eclectically the echoing edict, “Shoot the apple off his head!”

Fully fearing for his family member’s fate, Tell furiously fixed two fine feather-fletched arrows. One filled his belt; one flew fearfully from familiar fingers at his frightened family. A fortunate and famous fine-drawn shot, forever unforgettable.

Governor Gessler—that tyrant—glanced glaringly at Tell’s girdle, and got a glimpse of the gray-goose shaft glittering there. He grew greatly angry. Gloved hands grabbed the archery guru and guided him away.

Had Tell hesitated, had he halted when hiding the arrow haughtily into his habit—that is, the hero had intended it for his hated harrying highness—he would’ve happily hailed his home.

In his idealistic, iconic illustration of imposing on the imperious, Tell impudently ignited an immediate insurrection. He inadvertently induced an incorrigible itch for independence.

Jammed next to the jigger-mast on a jeopardizing ship, William Tell was jerked and jostled as the jerry-built jabbed into a jetty in a jet-black storm.

Keeping his ken keen, Tell kept getting kicked unkindly about. He knew he couldn’t kiss his kinsmen and kindred goodbye before being killed.

Luckily, William was learned in lake-lore, like as not learned from the lake that the languishing, leaky wave-leaper lay in. Tell was let loose to lend life-saving limbs, although most of the land-lubbers were leery of his liberation.

Magnificently making the most of his mental might, he managed to make enough mischief to make a marginal escape from Gessler’s motion-sick maltreating mercenaries.

Neatly navigating near the shore, he nimbly nabbed his bow and nipped into the nebulous night.

Oblivious to obstacles obstructing his ongoing outage, Tell outran the organized officials. Outraged, the over-confident officials of the oppressive oligarchy ordered a halt.

Persistently out-pacing his pursuers, Tell presently plotted to painfully puncture Gessler’s person. An arrow would purge the people of his pernicious persecution.

Quickly he quit questioning his quest, quelled his quavering quadriceps, and quietly queried his quiver for a quarrel to quicken the quenching of his quarry.

Resting on a remote rock, Tell rallied his remaining resources while reinforcing his resolve and reasons for rebellion, and relishing his reduced regret.

Soon he slipped silently aside, searching slyly for the sovereign’s soldiers so to sneak satisfactorily and safely away.

Traipsing through the treacherous terrain, Tell turned to the trail. There he tested the territory for his terrible trap and then tactically tarried to terminate the tyrant.

Ultimately, Gessler, ushered unsecured by unwatchful units, unaware of an unloosed arrow, was unbalanced—unfortunately dead—from the horse underneath him.

Validating his vengeance, William Tell vacated the verge of the verdure and vanished like a veritable vapor from the vicinity of his victim.

Wading waist deep through waves of water in the wetlands, William, well-worn and weary, warily went on his way.


Yes, the year the yeomen broke their yoke there was yelling and yapping and “Yee-has!” galore. Those yeomen had yearned to yank off their yoke.

Zwing-Uri, Gessler’s castle, was zoned for a raze, his zealous tyranny realizing its zenith and end.

Image Courtesy of the Landesmuseum Zurich

(While neither the infamous apple nor Gessler is shown here, everything else is. Wonderful Mosaic from the Landesmuseum in Zurich.)


2 responses

  1. C S

    I love x’s line… xylpohone!


    March 22, 2014 at 5:04 pm

    • That line seems to be most of my friends’ favorite as well. Which is ironic because when I was writing the piece and got to the letter X, I was too mentally tired to look up arcane vocabulary in order to write a whole verse. So I just put ‘Xylophone’ as a place-holder. Then, once I’d finished with Z, I reread the whole thing and realized it was a nice contrast to the rest of the piece, not to mention funny, so I left it. You have no idea how glad I am that I did, or how glad I am (for once) that I was too tired to use a dictionary or thesaurus.

      By the way, thanks for reading and for commenting!


      March 23, 2014 at 12:11 am

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