Wondersmith West Discussion Forum Hosted by Alice C. Bateman: The End

The End

Triflebead was twelve, carried an inflatable gun,
No bigger than a deflated balloon, in his shirt pocket.
He stepped down from the plane
And walked into the island highlands.
He’d outgrown sticky hands
But they were rather grubby and one hand
Held a shred of parchment,
That had the magical symbols, (that he could read),
Of Thimbledreams address.
Triflebead wove a boat out of leaves,
A skill he’d learnt from his Mum,
And sailed from island to island.
Out of the mist, whilst riding the ripples,
Triflebead spied a castle, high on a hill.

Before he walked under the open portcullis,
He inflated his gun, to a size
Bigger than an elephant,
With a huge open barrell,
Like the mouth of a french horn.
Although very alert, he snagged his velvet waistcoat,
On a rusty nail, as the gun led the way.
He spotted Thimbledream,
Writing magical letters with golden fingers,
By a huge roaring fireplace,
In a library of books, past, present and future.
A conch shell lay by his feet.
“Thimbledream – at last we meet!”

As Thimbledream turned in his oaken chair,
Triflebead aimed and silently fired.
A swarm of purple love magnets
Engulfed Thimbledream,
Then filled the library, tearing books from shelves,
Drowning Triflebead too.

Amongst the giant cabbages and crowds of willows,
Thimbledream hugged Triflebead
To his waist.
Tumbleweed stumbled off the back door step,
With wet hands and a towel,
With wet eyes and a grin,
And the Sun gave a cheeky grin,
As she watched their lives together, begin.

The End

I see children's books.........

The End