With a whirl and a twirl, Scobberlotcher jumps back,
clasping hands, overjoyed with its verbal attack.
Alice is now aging rapidly,
but steps toward the demon, then speaks timidly,
‘Scobberlotcher dear, come inside and stroke my hair,
I promise, you will find peace and solace there.’
Alice’s body is now decrepit and wasted,
aged beyond reason, horribly emaciated,
she stumbles back, then sits on the bed of stone,
as the demon torments in horrible overtone,
‘Do you remember our time in the dark chamber?
We had so much fun, months and months of torture,
Oh yes! I remember it so well,
removing your light and the sad farewell.’
The black demon continues to circle Alice,
scraping claw against bar, enjoying its own malice,
Scobberlotcher speaks again, slow and precise,
of special things within its own paradise,
‘When the monster bites,
and the torture stings,
these are just two of my malevolent things.
Sick children spellbound,
slaving hard underground,
a magical harp with beguiling strings,
these are some more of my malevolent things.
Hot coals upon skin,
removing your light within,
long, sharp pointy things,
some of my most enjoyable, malevolent things.
Knowing you can never leave,
a lifetime for your parents to grieve,
an eternity of flame and fire,
everyday to transpire,
these are my most favourite, malevolent things.’
Alice is now too weak to remain upright,
so lays down, and curls up tight,
Scobberlotcher still walks menacingly around,
when reaching Alice, the demon kneels down,
it smiles mockingly, full of malice,
then speaks cruel words to Alice,
‘Poor Alice! Would you like me to sing?
To pass the time before combusting,
sorry, speak up, what did you say?
Oh thank you! You say yay!
Hear the precious death bell sing,
glory to the demon king,
into my hell, with spells beguiled,
children and families never reconciled,
through the hole within the skies,
souls ensnared to their demise.
Hear the precious death bell toll,
scorn upon the tortured soul.’
The death bell tolls, Alice’s time to die is nigh,
two tears roll down, one from each eye,
gently over hollowed cheeks, gaunt and pale,
no more words needed, for this part of the tale.
KNITTING THE LIGHTNING
Once again, Minty survives another close call,
misfortune seems to follow, waiting to befall,
she is so tired now, body battered and bleeding,
she limps forward, cautious of what could be waiting.
Straight ahead, starry lights shine,
amidst a pale pink haze, beautiful and divine,
a long narrow tunnel stretches far into the distance,
Minty continues on, showing great resilience,
a golden fiery light comes into view,
despite the unknown,’tis a must to pursue.
Nearing the end of the tunnel, golden flames dance,
lighting the way for Minty’s advance,
upon leaving, a corridor now awaits,
dark, damp and smelly, with fire lanterns to illuminate.
To the right is an exit with stone stairs beyond,
leading to the castle top and her chance to abscond,
but, to the left she feels summoned,
as if something calls her, something newly awakened,
an old rickety, white wooden door slowly opens,
creaking and groaning loudly, but Minty feels no
apprehensions,
still the door opens, creaking louder still,
she feels only curiosity, no ill will.
Once the door stops, she sees darkness inside,
until a light beam shines upon rocking chair, occupied,
a figure sits alone, perfectly still,
Minty feels drawn to it, against her will,
but once inside, she sees a different scene,
instead of darkness, is a scene so serene.
Minty stands outside looking in,
watching farmer Joe take her to the meadow, her first
time therein,
the sun is shining, the sky a clear blue,
moisture on the grass sparkles, from the morning dew,
farmer Joe is carrying Minty towards a juvenile flock,
of carefree lambs, pets not livestock,
Minty’s new pals wait excitedly,
jumping and prancing splendidly.
The farm dogs now race to say hello,
then speed away, Minty and pals try to follow,
but the dogs are too fast, so purposely slow down,
letting the lambs catch them, to play and lark around,
Minty watches on with a smile, but it seems so long ago,
those joyous times in farmer Joe’s meadow,
the scene fades away, Minty is drawn to the chair,
gradually the figure makes itself clear.
‘Could it be?’ Minty says, ‘Can this be true?
Is it another trap to misconstrue?’
Sitting, rocking in the chair, in cream slippers and
pink dressing gown,
with shiny grey hair hanging down,
Gillian, she is called, but Tillymint by farmer Joe,
caring and loving, as all the farm animals know,
rosy cheeks, from life on the farm,
an outdoor life, keeping the animals from harm.
Minty is shocked, this is farmer Joe’s wife!
Cuddled on her lap, lays an innocent new life,
wrapped in a fluffy white blanket,
sleeping contentedly upon willing surrogate,
here is Minty, just a few days old,
orphaned, but not alone, being lovingly consoled,
Minty’s mother died, shortly after she was born,
so farmer Joe and wife, treated her as an offspring of
their own.
The lady speaks in tender tone,
telling Minty of times unknown,
‘You cannot recall when newborn, and close to death,
how you fought for each and every breath,
how I lay you upon my knees, rocking you gently,
throughout the nights, tending you affectionately,
why did you run Minty? Where did you go?
All you need is here, your own magic meadow.’
Around the lady appear strands of lightning,
long and bright, with a feint crackling,
an aroma of woodsmoke fills the air,
a fire spits and pops as dancing flames flare,
the room now slowly fills with light,
revealing a scene Minty wishes to reunite.
She is back in the farmhouse,
but for the fire, all is as quiet as a mouse,
farmer Joe’s wife sits in rocking chair, by the fireside,
with Ben, Harvey and Ginger alongside,
Jasper and Sammy are asleep on the settee,
curled up on their covers, snoring blissfully,
the room fills with sounds of happiness and glee,
as from the kitchen, farmer Joe makes tea.
All to soon, the scene has vanished,
leaving Minty somewhat anguished,
she misses home greatly, her memories are lovingly
cherished,
but she feels spent, all hope extinguished,
Scobberlotcher will never let her leave,
it is too powerful for her to deceive,
this is what Minty starts to perceive,
realising that perhaps, Juhee’s wheel is impossible to
retrieve.
The room is changed, black stone wall and floor,
the lady still rocking, but not as before,
she is now incredibly old, her hair and gown white,
looking quite sad in the dim castle light,
she sits and knits something on her lap,
something a sparkly silver, Minty fears another trap.
Lightning surrounds the mysterious woman,
she reaches out her needles, for a lightning collection,
each strand caught is knitted into a thread,
shining brightly as they embed,
strand after strand is plucked from the air,
then, she is aware that Minty is there,
still knitting, she raises her head,
pausing before a word is said,
Minty looks into her hollowed eyes,
her face looks ancient, ashen and agonized.
‘Who are you?’ Minty asks, ‘Friend or foe?
Will you entrap me or let me go?’
The lady looks Minty in the eye,
then speaks softly with a resigned sigh,
‘I am neither foe nor friend,
with no desire to apprehend,
I need your help, my time grows short,
time is little, for Scobberlotcher to thwart,
I am the last remnant of goodness, within the castle walls,
trapped in this room, as evil sprawls,
possessing the castle, down to its foundation,
a show of power, and demonic manifestation,
you have a choice, to stay or to go,
once my words are done, your heart you must follow.’
Minty says, ‘Do you show me images from my
mind’s eye?
Of my home and family, my regret to intensify.’
The lady replies, ‘When the choice is yours, of
what to do,
you will understand why they was shown to you.’
‘What are you doing?’ Minty asks,
‘It looks like the strangest of tasks.’
‘I am knitting the lightning, for the one and only,
soul within the castle with the ability,
to bring the demon down, and slay it so,
no more souls remain, or stolen into limbo,’
says the lady, whilst catching more lightning,
her knitting speed, now greatly accelerating.
‘But what is the lightning?’ Minty questions,
‘What do you knit? For what ambitions?’
‘The lightning is a creation of a power struggle,
of good against evil, violent and combustible,
each strand is a victory over evil,
the power held within, unbreakable,
as goodness defeats and controls the evil’s might,
they become one, no magic can fight.
Knitting the strands together, forms a magical shield,
no matter how powerful, all enemies will yield,
the strands knitted are making a garment,
a silver shawl for Alice’s adornment.’
‘No,’ says Minty, ‘You are misguided,
Alice is beyond aid, her soul cursed and annihilated.’
‘No,’ the lady replies, ‘You, are the one misguided,
you cannot see within, her power has not totally subsided,
Scobberlotcher made a crucial mistake,
by keeping Alice’s divine light awake,
it should have slain Alice, when given the chance,
but was overconfident of no circumstance,
where Alice could regain her light,
and so her power reignite.
You see, each day Alice is reborn a child,
her light grows a fraction, and has slowly compiled,
to grow just enough to slay the beast,
if given the chance, at least.’
Minty says, ‘But Alice is spellbound,
prisoner and slave, to the monster she is bound.’
‘Hear my words,’ the lady says, ‘And hear them well,
this shawl will protect against Scobberlotcher’s spell,
you must return to Alice, give her this shawl,
she must wear it, to break the demon’s control.
First thing, when woken reborn a child,
insist she wear it, for the curse to be exiled,
for when a child, her power is strongest,
the shawl’s power fully harnessed,
she will not age, or remain a demon’s thrall,
but have a chance to see its downfall.
Alice still has a part to play,
all our fates rest on her this day,
bring her back to this room,
for council, and her hair to groom.
A choice now lay upon each shoulder,
as my words will soon be over,
yes, I know why you are here,
you wish to return to things you hold dear,
so, will you go? Take the wheel and flee,
forsaking Alice and Setka, but setting the children free,
leaving the demon to capture more innocent souls,
holding them captive, as eternity unrolls.
Or will you go back to rescue Alice?
And free her from Scobberlotcher’s injustice,
I say again, Alice is the only one,
to destroy the monster, and its devilry be undone.’
The lady remains silent, her words are over,
she is patiently waiting for an answer,
Minty thinks of the images of home and family,
and her feelings of regret and deep melancholy,
each soul held hostage must feel the same,
but they can never leave, for their lives to reclaim.
Yes, Minty can set those here free,
but the castle will fill with more, a guarantee,
what of Setka and of Alice?
They deserve freedom, even justice,
Alice’s agony in particular troubles Minty’s mind,
for all eternity, a daily torture assigned,
to leave her, enduring pain within flame,
Minty would live a lifetime of shame.
‘I shall go back,’ says Minty, ‘Show me the way,
give me the shawl for the demon to betray.’
A passageway opens in the wall,
inside, a feint ball of light hovers, only small,
the lady gives Minty the shawl, then does speak,
‘Follow the light, to find what you seek,
to return here, reach the ascension tower,
then stand before the door, bedecked with springtime
flower.’
And with that she vanishes,
for a few moments the lightning still flashes,
before darkness descends in the room once more,
silence is broken, by the closing of the white, rickety
old door,
Minty enters the passage, then follows the light,
off to rescue Alice,
from the Scobberlotcher’s spite.
Minty follows into darkness, not knowing where,
limping slightly, but is soon aware,
the light she follows has become countless,
for she walks amongst stars, an infinite twinkling canvas,
far below, on a distant horizon,
a red sun starts to awaken,
a new day dawns, very, very fast,
across mountains below, shades of orange and pink
are cast.
Now Minty finds herself standing upon a cloud,
overlooking castle upon mountain, surrounded by shroud,
a pathway of flowers form together,
lined either side by purple bellflower,
this leads directly inside the castle,
Minty walks on, and soon makes her arrival.
Upon entering, she faces Alice’s cell,
still not reborn, her charred body just a shell,
Minty enters the cell, then sits down,
watching the spell on Alice slowly breakdown,
ever so slowly, her body begins to transform,
Alice’s rebirth is now taking form.
THE TIDE TURNS
A perfect summers day down on the beach,
cotton ball clouds drift on blue sky, seem within reach,
a warm breeze carries the aroma of the sea,
a smell to exhilarate and refresh everybody,
fine golden sand, waves crash upon seashore,
seagulls squawk and caw loudly, as they soar,
over the sea, so very blue,
oh to fly! Imagine the view!
Alice stands upon the shore front, with her dog, Strider,
mama and papa ahead, walking hand in hand in
shallow water,
Strider is a brown and white spaniel, with fluffy brown
floppy ears,
Alice’s best friend, for all her short years,
Alice stands barefoot in black gown,
looking happy, without sadness, sorrow or frown,
once again a young girl, full of life,
only joy prevails, her soul without strife.
Her hair dances in the breeze,
as she hums happy, harmonious melodies,
whilst stroking Strider behind his ear,
he grows excited, as the crashing waves near,
his tail wags vigorously, perpetual motion,
while barking joyously at the incoming ocean.
Suddenly, Strider jumps up and bounds away,
splashing through the water, he wants to play!
Alice follows, dashing and splashing,
chasing her friend, smiling and laughing,
The Lambshank Redemption Page 10