Saturday, 7 May 2016

The Planter


I just recently read The Ramayana and The Mahabharata: two wonderful Hindu stories with masses of meaning. I particularly liked the way the Mahabharata is written in verse translated from Sanskrit.

I decided to attempt an epic (by my standards) of my own. I hope that in a few thousand years it gets translated into Sanskrit and is hopefully recited by one of Vyasa's decedents.  


Jack and the Like Tree (a fairy story)

Part one:

The planter

A boy out walking down a lane
Once came across a like tree seed
Inside a bag on which was writ
“For satisfaction guaranteed
Dig a deep hole and plant therein
And every morning for a year
upon that spot a comment make
And there your Like tree shall appear!”

And Jack,(for so our hero’s named)
Was young, and had time on his hands
So every morn, come rain or shine
He catered to the seed’s demands
A comment sometimes from within
And sometimes one of Google found
Was uttered daily as advised
By him upon that sacred ground

Three hundred and three score plus five
Each day he marked them every one
Spring, summer, autumn, winter passed
And when the final day was done
There still was nothing to be seen
No shoot or sapling sprouting there
Jack went despondent to his bed
In disappointment and despair

With weariness, and restlessness
And torment on that final night
In darkness there awake he stared
Eyes sore with unfulfilled delight
Till finally he fell asleep
His thoughts exhausted and resigned
Then came to him the strangest dream
A nightmare of the darkest kind

An overture of horns and drums
(A tune of dread and pain and fear)
A lightning FLASH!  A thunder CLAP!
The sound of footsteps coming near
Jack hiding in a darkened glade
For in that land a beast did dwell
More fearsome than the basest fiend
That ever walked the depths of Hell

“I am the ruler of this land”
The ever searching creature said
“I know you boy, your name is JACK
And when I find you, you’ll be DEAD!”
Jack, running from his hiding place
The monster’s breath upon his neck
Then tripping on a fallen branch
Lay helpless like a pawn in check

Resigned in terror there he lay
As talons grabbed and clawed his back
Then came a voice from far away
His mother calling “JACK JACK JACK!
Jack wake up it’s only a dream
Poor love you do look terrified
Get out of bed and come and see
There’s something going on outside”

A crowd had gathered in the street
Their faces gazing at the sky
Behind Jack’s house a tree had grown
So unimaginably high
A trunk so wide it filled the space
Where once a well-kept garden thrived
Jack with his mother stood transfixed
No bush, no lawn, no flower survived

With eyes wide open, mouths agape
In wonderment, and quiet dismay
More people came to view the tree
Drawn to it on that fateful day
For none had ever seen the like
It was magnificent indeed
A marvelous thing to BEHOLD!
A giant borne of the Like tree seed

End part the first.


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