by C. Meton
Have you ever seen the thump-thump? He’s cousin to the borg,
He bounces like a rabbit, and barks just like a dog.
He runs away from Orkeldors as everything doth do,
He could be a helper handy if he accompanies you.
Take one with you hunting, or berry-picking, son;
Then when you see him twitching, you take off and run.
For he has smelled an Orkeldor, (no human knows the scent),
But thump-thump knows it very well, and that can save your neck.
* * *
You’ll be glad you did.
’Cause from the vicious Orkeldor
He can keep you hid.
* * *
I sit here drinking coffee,
Eating a piece of toast,
Thinking about the Orkeldor
(We all know he eats most).
His jaws are strong, his teeth are sharp,
His claws are long and cruel,
But I am sure, from what I’ve heard,
That hunger’s his worst tool.
He doesn’t seem to care much|
What he’s about to eat,
Whether birds or little animals,
Or even people meat.
Nothing can escape him,
He’s stealthy and he’s fast.
He’s been good at catching dinner
Both now and in the past.
* * *
Once there was a stranger, a new one to the glade.
He said he was a hunter of many expeditions made.
He spoke of hunting Orkeldor, the fabled vicious beast;
And promptly walked right out the door and headed toward the East.
Many people saw him before he left that day,
But he was never seen again coming back this way.
Perhaps he found an Orkeldor and shot him with his gun,
But it’s more likely, I am sure, he never saw the sun.
Orkeldor’s not stupid, and Orkeldor’s not slow;
So keep that fact in mind, old friend, before hunting him you go.
* * *
Once I knew an Indian guide,
Agile as a ram:
He always had a thump-thump
In a coffee can.
That can he carried day and night
Wherever he would go,
And you would see him with it
In the rain and in the snow.
That can would never leave his reach
No matter where he was,
For it saved from an Orkeldor|
More frequently than once.
He was agile, strong, and brave,
That, you know, is true;
But to meet up with an Orkeldor
He did not want to do.
That is why he carried
His thump-thump in a can,
And when the thump-thump started twitching
How that Indian ran!
* * *
The Orkeldor Invasion
Once there was an epidemic,
The worst I’ve ever seen.
I wasn’t there myself, mind you,
But you know what I mean.
I heard about it long ago
From a man so very old:
He told me that it happened
When the air was very cold.
It happened in the winter
In a peaceful, seaside town,
An Orkeldor invasion,
So bad that God did frown.
They had no friendly thump-thumps
To warn them of their doom;
And when, at last, a ship sailed in
All the Sailors found was room.
No people in the village,|
No people in the town,
No birds, no pets, no animals:
All flesh was just plain gone.
I doubt they saw them coming,
Cause Orkeldors are fast.
They ate up all the people
Right to the very last.
The Orkeldor is cunning,
The Orkeldor is swift;
The only safety from him
Is on a raft at sea adrift.
Beware the Orkeldor, my friend.
Beware him if you’re wise,
And always keep a thump-thump
Securely by your side.
To be continued...
Copyright © 2005 by C. Meton