Saturday, 7 May 2016

The climber





Jack and the Like Tree (a fairy story)

Part two:

The Climber

There was once a gigantic tree
Its top so high and never seen
Its branches hanging with strange fruit
Its leaves all shades of evergreen
And on its trunk there clung a boy
Ten thousand feet above the ground
So slowly, branch by branch he climbed
With hook and harness upward bound

On each branch was a clustering
Of blue fruit of the strangest shape
A clenched fist with a risen thumb
The size and texture of a grape
Of luscious and exquisite taste
There lay a secret in its store
Who tasted it became a slave
And once picked, it would grow no more

The giant tree at first appeared
A year before this tale is told
And jack (the climber) ate its fruit
Before it was but one day old
Thereafter every day he came
To pick and eat without a care
And by the time a month had passed
The lowest branches he’d stripped bare

And very soon the higher fruit
Reached by a ladder disappeared
And higher still by scaffold Tower
Too soon each branch was picked and cleared
Till finally there came the day
When all that he could do was done
Jack climbed down from the tower resigned:
All accessible fruit was gone

A year went by, the seasons passed
Jack looked for signs upon the tree
But all that grew was his despair
No buds or blossom could he see
Hence presently this tale returns
To Jack - the climber- on a quest
To find the fruit to fill the void
And desolation in his breast

His senses craved the like tree fruit
His ego ever wanting more
His self - importance drove him on
All other things did he ignore
Deluded by his selfish lust
He climbed from branch to branch to find
The fruit that calmed and satisfied
The yearnings of his tortured mind

Jack then two months upon the tree
With only one thing on his mind
Onwards and upwards there he climbed
All branches, stripped bare, left behind
The fruit that gave him sustenance
And satisfied his every need
It’s fleeting gifts of power and joy
Remained the focus of his greed

Jack then three months upon the tree
His clothes were ripped, his skin was rank
His teeth unclean, his hair unkempt
His hands were cracked, his face was blank
And ever upwards still he climbed
With feelings of despair and grief
The Like fruit clusters still not picked
The only source of his relief

Jack then SIX months upon the tree!
His body wrecked his spirit drowned
For nigh a barren week had passed
And no fruit clusters had he found
Jack, exhausted and diminished
Yet still continued to ascend
With pull and grip, he carried on
Upwards towards his journey’s end

Then seven months had come and gone
And Jack, unconscious, climbed no more
That night he reached the highest branch
And saw there at the end a door
And there he lay in dreamless sleep
Aware not of what fate had planned
Or that the doorway there began
The path that led to Facebook land!


End part the second

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