Steve Shilstone's Blog, page 14

One morning Fenwick, the baker’s apprentice, stepped outside to fetch water from the well. He was shocked out of the one wit he had when he found himself staring at a huge mound of water sitting in the meadow and lightly rippling in the breeze. He turned and ran.

‘Mound of water!’ he shouted, racing to the village square.

Citizens of all stripe and demeanor responded and were led to the phenomenal sight by the baker’s apprentice. Opinions in all flavors were expressed.

‘I don’t believe in it,’ said Mencken, the carpenter

‘Had a better one when I was a lad in the swamp,’ said the idle fool.

‘It’s beautiful,’ said the innkeeper’s daughter.

How can I turn this to my advantage? thought the mayor and many others.

Edwina, the miller’s toddler of a daughter, went straight to the mound, stuck her head in, and had a nice drink. When, after careful observation by the townspeople, the girl continued to skip about laughing and not die, what joy and celebration ensued. For years thereafter, the crystal clear mound of water supplied the needs of the village. People came from near and far to stare at it or make fun of it. Some studies were undertaken, but not many.

And one morning, long after Fenwick, the baker’s apprentice, had become Fenwick, the baker, he stepped outside to fetch water from the mound and sank to his knees in disbelief. The mound of water was gone. The people were depressed for weeks, but they got over it. After all, they had plenty of wells and a river and a nearby lake.

As for the mound of water itself, it had business to attend to on another planet.

ALPHABETARARIUM

A is for Brian, a very good student

B is for Karen, stung several times

C is for Juan, always agreeable

D is for Jamie, in Glasgow passed on

E is for Alice, afraid of mice

F is for Ken, a quite stupid fellow

G is for Timmy, who turned his horse right

H is for Melvin, who set up the goalposts

I is for Pascual, his vision is legend

J is for Kurt, an avid birdwatcher

K is for Doug, who always strikes out

L is for Annie, the Cockney sinner

M is for Phyllis, baker of cakes

N is for Bruno, nimble-fingered typesetter

O is for Corliss, who accepts all explanations

P is for Melody, with her very small bladder

Q is for Alabama Jumbo Jake, a noted pool hustler

R is for Gilles, the famous French pirate

S is for Midori, who won the slalom

T is for Boris, who brought the samovar

U is for me, from your point of view

V is for Hans, who has ways to make you talk

W is for Tish and Tosh, the two-headed sheep

X is for Edwina, passed out drunk

Y is for Alvin, inquisitive toddler

Z is for Rolph, asleep at the switch

it’s edward lear

whiskers of mice, poisonous dew

boil in a cauldron of green jelly stew

one bone of harm

another of fright

melt in the churning

hissing delight

I recall, I recall

tasting teenagers in the mall

I recollect, I recollect

milkmaids white and plumply necked

I remember, I remember

stepping on a burning ember

I think back, I think back

to pleasant times upon the rack

I call to mind, I call to mind

a fisherman on whom I dined

I reflect, I reflect

Wait a minute

No, I don’t

There once was a very fine boulder.

No one in the meadow was bolder.

He gathered flowers

for several hours.

His true love? Over he bowled her.

The Sun Man often stood at the center of the walkway connecting the mightiest wings of the fortress. He enjoyed looking down on the throng gathered below in the bitter frozen depths. He spoke to them.

‘Behold,’ he said. ‘Your work this past month I have found to be satisfactory. All quotas have been met. Santa himself has expressed approval. Therefore, as a reward, I will call down the sun to supply you with a fleeting moment of comfort before you return to your grueling tasks.’

Having spoken, the Sun Man raised his arms and ordered the sun to come down. The sun obeyed. The workers experienced their fleeting moment of warmth before hurrying back to work in response to the snarls and raised whips of the attendants.

Jesterbeasts from the world of Boad once upon a time traveled back and forth to Earth through portals linking the two worlds. On Earth they are legend, mysteries called bigfoot, sasquatch, yeti. On Boad they are fact, happy go lucky performers and clowns. Soon their story will be told in Book 9 of The Bekka Chronicles.

“Oh, no! They’re going to pick us! I knew it! I knew it! Oh no!” trumpeted a daffodil sprouted near the edge of a meadow positively yellow with daffodil blooms.

“Who cares?” sniffed a neighboring daffodil, head held high while the meadow all around swayed in floral panic. “Get picked. Don’t get picked. It’s all the same.”

The collectors swept in with baskets, and soon the meadow was nearly empty and the baskets nearly full. The bride-to-be’s mother bent down to snip the last stem, but was stopped by her daughter’s plea.

“Oh, Mummy, we have enough. Let’s leave one,” said the blue-eyed maiden, glowing with joy.

The mother smiled a gentle smile and put away her razor-sharp clippers. The collectors gathered together and moved off, chatting and laughing. The meadow with its single standing daffodil was abandoned.

“Who cares?” sniffed the daffodil, head held high.

Moral: A carefree flower often survives, especially if it is a daffodil.

this is a poem all about lambs

and how they resemble not at all clams

clams are not woolly and legs have they none

a clam in a meadow does not romp and run

a clam does not bleat, never says ‘baaa’

if you think clams are lambs, in you there’s a flaw