The Giant Conveyance
This poem is a continuation of the adventures between a Giant Boy and his Giant Father. This time they decide to construct a moving vehicle.
Little Giant comes running, as fast as he can
His feet ablaze, his head in a daze
“Dear father, oh father, you must listen to me
’tis wondrous and strange what happened you see.”
“I was playing in the field, over there as I do when
A sound as strange as the strangest you see
Came from over the hill not far from me.”
“Dear Boy, you need to get to the point
I’ve been lifting all morning and cracked a joint.”
“Oh father,
I leapt and I jumped, even crossed the ravine
And what did I see but a rolling machine
The sound deep and rumbly still bangs in my ears
With seats and glass and a round thing to steer.”
“Down it went then over the hill and gone
With nothing to push it or pull it along
What is it dear father, I need to know
My feet are a-tingly and my mind is blown
Oh father, please listen, this is better than a dragon
Why have we not got such a magical wagon.”
“Now stop with your silliness, Giants are we
We have no necessity, no purpose you see
For any such carriage with wheels and a seat
Why don’t you go find something tasty to eat!”
“But father
The rocks that you move are heavy and blunt
This wagon could carry a tonne in the trunk!”
“A carriage you say boy well, let’s see, let’s see
I suppose we could build one for you and me.”
No sooner big Giant had acquiesced
The boy and his father began their quest
A fine carriage done in a split of a jiffy
All new and shiny and ready and spiffy.
Both father and son, all ready to roam
Sat down on the thingy that moves on its own.
“Say daddy, how does this contraption advance
We’ll never be crossing this vast expanse
I am wearing my helmet and ready to go
But nothing is moving, neither to nor fro.”
“Suppose, my boy, the carriage was driven by magic
Them witches down yonder so vicious and tragic
Could easily have created a spell you see
That moves this thing independently.”
“I don’t understand,” said the boy and cried
“Not a horse, a mule or a donkey was pulling
Perhaps they were all somehow hidden inside
With extra power but miniature looking.”
“Dear boy,
Miniature horses with powers to pull
A carriage along while hidden in full
Why it’s simply preposterous fantasy
The likes of which just never could be!”
“T’was magic” the boy was forced to concede
An enchantress’s spell and not a mini-steed
“We’ll chop up the carriage and use it for fuel
A pity perhaps, as it would have been cool!”
© 2016 Steven Hebert
Steven Hebert
A playwright and a poet.
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