“Gar Kamal Kamock is my name,
And my brother Bar you know,
We both have served the Giant’s aim,
But it was never always so.
Before the tyrant Giant came,
Many and many years ago,
When mini-giants were kept in reign,
By great protector’s strength bestowed,
My family ruled a schooled land,
Where Giant’s fortress now is sowed.
Back then I was a young prince grand,
And so was Bar, and we were friends,
Devoted to each other’s ends.
We never dreamed the spectacle
Of wealthy riches giant would send,
Could woo our parents to his service
And make us to his crimes compend.
When the Giant first appeared,
He was not special of his peers.
He was just a smallish runt,
Making his poor first affront.
And our parents, Clare and Clarence,
With ease quelled his feeble farence.
But then the Giant, grew self reliant,
In mystic arts, dark and defiant,
Gaining spells and powers tragic,
To wield at will, in greed and magic.
Upon his sisters and his brothers,
He cast these spells until no others,
Remained alive to challenge him,
Or deny his wants and whims.
And such of Giant’s waylaid foes,
Fell and shrank, beguiling slow,
Through his spells, to be absorbed,
By skin and bones into his core.
Thus so with every victory,
The Giant’s strength grew foul by three,
Until his power pool was such,
Our parent’s realm he once more touched,
And with his magic and his wealth,
He bought my parents for himself.
Willingly they served him first,
But too late learned, that they were cursed,
And when their service they reneged,
He took their lands and made them beg.
My brother and I then were known,
As Shield and Blade, the child prince clones,
Both of us together made
From a single labor laid.
And because we were so young,
Not yet one hundred summers sprung,
We did not view the Giant badly,
And took his wealth and magic gladly.
Blade became the powered, scary,
Giant’s jailer of elf and faerie.
He came to think that every son
He ever jailed for mentishpun,
Deserved their fate, each every one,
No pain too great, nor over done.
And as for me, my shield-named self,
Now became Gar and seeking wealth,
Worked in the sciont sanctuary,
Of the Giant’s grand library.
As the years went by and by,
Our status grew, wealth high and high,
With great estates and wondrous homes,
Of privilege, power and servants owned.
And though my parents lost their kingdom,
None were lost as I’d become,
For in my hallowed success shallow,
I cared not about the harrow,
Inflicted from my precipice,
To sate the Giant’s avarice.”
Gar stopped his talk and faced the door.
He’d paced across the parlor floor,
To where the walls had blasted out,
In his brother’s magic bout,
And all around, glow flutter and flick,
One hundred pixies, brick by brick,
Rebuilt the wall, from floor to ceiling,
Replacing each with reverent feeling.
Through this window, he watched the night,
Pin-holed with stars, their twinkles bright,
Hands behind neck, eyes tearing fast,
Thinking thoughts of times long passed.
He breathed a sigh, cheeks stained wet,
Of exhaustion, and regret.
For some minutes, no one spoke,
Letting Gar compose his yoke,
But then he turned and said with fret,
“I have still more to tell you yet!”
Then every pixie and the rest,
In wonder watched, his hands congest,
Where from there grew a magic field,
A bubble that inside revealed,
Beautiful and blue, a spotless castle,
With many spires and flags and tassels.
The fountains, trees and everyone,
To a one, looked happy and fun,
So that those there seemed not to fit
In to the mood that Gar had lit.
“What grand idyllic land is this?”
Said the blacksmith, incredulis.
“It looks wondrous!”Poepi mazed.
“I did not know that such a place,
Still stood within the Giant’s reign,
Which light and beauty both and disdain!”
But said the Queen, with voice of vortex,
“It is the Giant’s island fortress!”
Then Poepi, Blacksmith and Pixie mouths,
Dropped open wide, dangling doubt,
And as bird flies, in soaring sky,
Fortress view dropped down from high,
To the green and central square,
Gliding over a thousand stairs.
Through a gate of gold and brass,
Above a moat of koi and bass,
The view wound tall, to fresco walls,
Depicting there, historic scrawls,
On high stone arches, intricate cleft,
With not a naked space there left.
And paintings, paintings and more paintings,
Hung below showed wicked takings,
In colored hues, reds, whites, and blues,
All skewed to suit the Giant’s views.
And scene then dropped down through the floor,
To secret halls and faceless door,
Locked and chained in dark and cold,
Leading down to dungeon holds.
Gar’s face became then dire and bleak,
And quiet he began to speak.
“Far within is hid a talisman,
Guarded well by three grim guardsmen,
That has the power to destroy,
The Giant and his magic toys.
I learned of it while reading scores,
Of captivating ancient lores,
Of knowledge in his library stores,
Alone behind locked dusty doors.
And when he learned I knew of it,
He ordered me be smashed and smit!
I had to leave his luscious lands,
And scrape and beg and on knees and hands!
Years and years I’ve had to flee,
Alone and poor in misery!
Me his loyal and serving prince!
And I've been hunted ever since.
I've also traveled many lands,
I've seen the wreckage by his hands,
And nothing grand that he has built,
Can stave the great flow of my guilt,
For executing his demands,
And for the many flames I've fanned,
While all the while becoming rich,
As others cast to street and ditch.
So now my life is ever sown
To see the giant overthrown!”
Gar stopped his talk and cast his eyes,
Down to the ground, and looked despised,
Until Poepi, growing bolder,
Put her hand upon his shoulder.
Gar looked at Poepilandia then,
His slick eyes pleading something, when
She asked a single burning question:
“How do you ever hope to win?”
Just then, something crashed outside,
And ground shook wildly, side to side.
Over, Over, Over, Over,
Thudding louder, crashing closer,
And a command, called far and wide,
Come Kamal Kamock, outside!
That was when Gar made his plea
"Poepi, they have come for me!
Bar has sent his monster pliants,
To fetch me back and face the giant!
Take this now and hold it please!"
He dangled something at his knees,
And tossed it as he rushed to flee,
Cursing, yelling, desperately.
He fled the cottage through its door,
And ran outside, and yelled some more,
As crushing thuds now filled the breeze,
As massive snow trolls split the trees,
Each one as tall as ten men high,
All standing towers in the sky.
The lot of them was 3 plus 5,
Mindless, brainless, brought alive,
To capture Gar Kamal Kamock,
And take him back jailer’s rock.
When Gar moved left, then so did they,
When Gar moved right, they went that way,
Until in circle Gar they pinned,
And slowly slowly wound it in.
A big one bent and picked up snow,
And packed it in a ball to throw.
When it struck, it hit Gar hard,
And stuck to him, and grew and marred,
The view of him from Poepi’s eyes,
Amid snow troll’s elated cries.
But from deep inside the snow,
Gar’s voice yelled, muffled and low:
“Poepi remember! We make what life brings!”
Poepi remember! Thoughts become things!
“Keep it close and think of me!
Some day together we will be!”
Then in delight at captive's plight,
Whom they whacked and packed in tight,
Trolls laughed loud in childlike joy,
And tossed him, tossed him like a toy.
Skipping, throwing, laughing, hopping,
Eight large earth quakes, never stopping,
All ran back, as they had come,
While Poepi and her friends watched dumb.
The shaking quaking breaking ground,
Returned to quiet, except for sounds,
In Poepi's head, where little voices,
Commanded her to make her choices.
And in her hand, dangling free,
A bright blue gem shone brilliantly.