Chapter 45

Stalagtites and Stalagmites


Alarm bells sounded, loudly ringing,

Clanging, banging, madly, singing,

Bouncing off the dank stone walls,

While pedestal, began to fall,

And thick mud flooded, smelly green,

Over her feet, no longer seen.

Poepilandia tried to flee,

Straight up the stairs, desperately.

Clack clack clack clack clack clack clack clack

Her footsteps raced, up the slate,

Clack clack clack clack clack clack clack clack,

She barely past the lowest gate!

And as it slammed behind her face,

She hastened hastened up her pace.

Up and up and up she ran,

Sprinting steps, fast as one can,

And as she passed the next barred gate,

It slammed shut too, loud and irate,

And so did three, and so did four,

Until she reached the fifth gate door.

She would have made it narrowly past,

But at the moment of the last,

She stumbled in a sideways slip,

And forward fell, a treacherous trip.

Before she could recoverate,

Ahead of her, the final gate,

Slammed shut, and loomed above her there,

Shocked and gulping nervous air,

While behind her, slurping louder,

Ooozing mud began to crowd her.

Standing up she gripped the bars,

White knuckles pulling, desperate hard,

But its lock was frozen closed,

Flooding mud, encrudding woes.

She tried again with bangled hand,

And reached the lock, fingers spanned,

But nothing happened and her touch,

Would not make the locked gate budge.

Remembering, now, like a dunce,

The bangle only unlocked once,

She sank down dire, a kneeling wreck,

Mud flows rising round her neck,

Trying hard to keep it dry,

And full of breath so not to die.

She shouted frantic calls for help,

A desperate plea, a dire yelp,

And then down sunk, until, mud went,

Above her eyes, her breathing spent,

Bubble’s blowing, amid mud’s swell,

Then all of her was gone as well.

But as she sank below the dodder,

A sudden blasting bomb of water,

Exploded up the mudd and chunder,

And smashed the gate, and tore it asunder,

And two thrust hands through mud flows, gripped,

Poepilandia, dirty and dripped.

With a herculean jerk,

They pulled her from the mucky murk,

And laid her down upon clean stone,

And pumped her legs, with mouth turned prone,

And gave her strength to suck in air,

And cough up slime, and snort, and stare,

At her savior, in wondrous shock,

A bloody slimed Kamal Kamock.

She looked at him, into his eyes,

And took his arms, and snugglized,

And he held her, squeezing blue,

And looked her long, and kissed her too.

His strong hands held her tightly gripped,

Clinging to her arms and hips,

And in the moment of their kiss,

All distractions were dismissed,

There was no mud, no stone, no mess,

Only floating lover’s bliss.

Their ears were full of passion bells,

Noses with each other’s smells,

Eyes tight closed, fingers clutched,

Lips tight locked, and pressed, and touched.

And when they pulled their heads apart,

They gasped for breath, and gave a start,

Unable to express without,

The feelings that were coming out.

But then the mud began to flood,

Up to staircase, mixed with blood,

Pooling from dead monster laid,

Where Gar escaped, with his blade,

Cutting from the inside out,

Frenzied hearing Poepi shout.

And other monsters still stood froze,

Their anger live in eyes disclosed,

Watching ceiling stalactites,

Crash down into stalagmites,

As if the cavern’s monstrous maw,

Was closing down upon its jaw.

That was when the glowing pixie,

Lit the entrance, wild and crazy,

Gesturing for them to run,

From the lair, or be undone.

And with a look between the two,

Up the tunnel, love birds flew.

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