He was quite a stoic man,
Living a life of gaiety.
Wandering over plains,
Living off the land.

His father had enough of him,
He wouldn't harm a blade of grass.
Let alone cut down a redwood tree,
As a farmers son he was useless.

There was no consoling him,
when the animals taken to market
were slaughtered.
He made such a mighty racket,
Even the animals themselves
Joined in.
Worst of all nobody liked him.

So his father threw him out,
Be off with you boy his father.
Said in such a lather you won't last,
A day a week a month let alone
a year.

As the days and weeks went by,
The farmer missed his son so much.
The farm itself fell into disarray,
So he'd sob into his drink nothing
More to say.

His heroics were whispered by all,
Asked a Cyclopes if I help you to see.
Will you please come back with me,
and help me plough my father's land.
As you can probably guess, The
Cyclops of course said "yes".
So he made him a Monacal,
By heating up the sand.

He saved a troll from drowning,
Who gave him save passage.
Through all the trolls wide
and varied lands.

His son thrived through lands,
His notoriety travelled near and far.
It even made it back to his father,
As they laughed did you hear the
the latest, Of how he saved the hive,
He gave the queen bee the kiss of life.

Thought it was folderol and boulder-dash,
And all the words between I mean.
Telling whoopers heart felt lies,
His son just had to many dreams.

Imagine when the roof was lifted up
Off that old pub, With his son
riding high on a Cyclops back.
Well the villager's very nearly
Died, Most just ran away.

Well Cyclops kept his word,
Helping him by ploughing their land.
In fact he liked the peace and quiet,
So much he lives there on the farm
To this very day.

You should see the vegetables
and the flowers grow.
As for his honey bees quality,
They produce the best honey
In all the lands.

Short story by Alan J Ripley The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 79 times
Written on 2023-08-08 at 00:55

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