Chapter 26

Heavy Catch


The captain of the fishing boats,

Was listening to the sea gull notes,

And pulling in his salmon nets,

When from above and splashing wet,

Something large crashed down to water,

Sending all his nets back under.

Catching deck crew by surprise,

It made their boat quite near capsize.

“Hoist the nets! Hoist ‘em dogs!”

“Hoist em quick! Hurry you logs!”

And when the nets at last did rest,

Upon the decks caught with the rest,

Of flopping fish and squid and shram,

Five bodies kicked and strained and swam,

Sputtering mad and wildly breathing.

“Take ‘em below!” said Captain Keating,

“For many a day we’ll be at sea,

And whatever hands there be,

Upon this ship, fishing the deeps,

Must work the nets to earn their keep!”

And as he barked out tasks and deeds,

He hoped that what these people fled,

Was no where watching overhead,

Or able now his boat to spy,

As it sailed, beneath blue sky,

But up the cliff, watching the sea,

Perched up high, atop a tree,

The falcon watched the fishing boat,

And its cargo come afloat.

With spread wings, it pierced a cry,

And left its perch, and north did fly,

Soaring high above the river,

With a message to deliver.

Yet it stopped not at the bridge,

Where Persephony’s goblins fidged.

Instead it turned and flew north east,

High over mountains, plains and beast,

Careening and soaring on windy waves,

Through a span of many days. 

Then over sea and east, it flew,

Til giant’s island filled its view.

It soared above small cottage huts,

Where servants lived and tied their mutts.

It circled tall built city spires,

Where lording by their well built fires,

The giant’s oligopoly,

Plotted its monopoly,

Over their exploited lands,

To please their greedy hearts’ demands,

While filling full, the giant’s quota,

Daring not miss one iota.

It glided through a campus yard,

With soldiers training, strict and hard,

Until it met an ornate castle,

Bearing colored flags and tassels.

Through a window opened wide,

In a chamber, gilt inside,

It headed straight to silver frock,

Worn by Bar Kamal Kamock.

Above his head outstretched his hand,

Upon which flying hawk did land,

Talons pricking in his arm,

Piercing sleeve that kept him warm.

And into Bar’s waiting ear,

The hawk bird squawked, quiet and clear,

Until a frown, grew down Bar’s face.

As he looked upon the lace,

Worn by sleeping Perlameen,

Breathing deep, in gentle dreams.

“Fly to the giant right away!”

He ordered falcon, with dismay.

“Convey that I will come tomorrow

To learn what actions I must follow.”


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