The Stilt Walker by Charlotte Kennedy |
Luciana Formi-dable Sonar Mickle Mackle Jay Clumped out in highland kilted stilts One glorious day in May A day of rarest daisies And splendiferous croquet A day when waterlilies shilly shally spider eggs |
image adapted from a photograph by Jennifer Buchfink |
She clomped right down the garden walk She clacked on up the street Her alpine sticks stomped steady Blazing tartan sails adrift On she stumped this queenly whaler Tall as tall as a galleon ship The folk below so very tiny Just a fliff of pepply pips The mayor himself came out to greet her Couldnšt see her for the clouds He had to climb up on the shoulders Of a giant circus clown And even then his very tall hat Which he wore in honour due Only barely reached the bottom Of her dandy left-on shoe Luciana Formi-dable Spoke in tones quite clear and loud Though it took two days of travel For each word to reach the crowd They waited there with bated breath To catch the falling sounds That filled three thousand baskets For the sounds were extra large All the village weavers gathered There to intertwine a skein Spelling Lucianašs message On a banner made of cheese Which they hung upon a clothes line Using pegs of frozen bread So all the town could see there Just exactly what she said: "I've climbed on mountain ridges Hiked through valleys filled with peat I've trouped through windless passes And survived on frozen meat I've toed the ocean floor and slipped on jelly fish galore But never, Oh not ever, not for gold or goat or glee And donšt make me repeat this Or wešll not get any sleep But never, Oh not ever, can I step down from this height I'm stuck on here forever For these sticks are out of sight They're like another spine to me Or two, times three times four And if I step now to the ground I'll never be restored The sky will be too far away, the earth up to my ears For now I'm used to walking on these wondrous wooden stairs." Oh dear what will become of me, she oft was wont to say Luciana Formi-dable Sonar Mickle Mackle Jay She ate supper on those strident stilts Trays lowered on a crane She slept upright against a wall Held on with resin braids Her parents grew quite frantic For to wash her hair they found Pails of water must be lifted Hand to hand on ladders long And to help her with her lyrics (She had a song to sing at School) They had need to hold up paper Tongs as long as fifty mules Oh so not cool! Oh dear what will become of me, she oft was wont to say Luciana Formi-dable Sonar Mickle Mackle Jay The townsfolk were not yawning Set an awning on the lawn Up saunters Sue the carpenter With overalls and awls She viewed the scene with practised eye And strummed on her saw band Called out: Oh Luciana The answer is at hand We'll turn those girders into whistles So they'll work horizontally Once you're back down here among us We'll drill holes for F# C Prop the whistles up on boulders You can play such melodies That the folks will come from miles around To dance the jig in threes Kick high, bend knees! But a whistle is not needful Cried Luciana in despair For up here I hear the whistle Of the birds, the winds, the air It's a whistle like a kissle On my cheek, my ears, my hair And there is no sound upon this earth That ever could compare. Oh dear what will become of me, she oft was wont to say Luciana Formi-dable Sonar Mickle Mackle Jay Up stepped a wizened sailor With an anchor, rope and winch His eyes were full of confidence His boots were full of fish This is surely not a problem He declared with solemn voice Luciana, those two wooden shanks Would make a perfect bow For a boat to sail the waters Round the world with you in tow Just think, a mighty journey Oceans, bays and rivers dear But be quick if Išm to make it For Išm getting on in years. But a boat is hardly needful Cried Luciana in despair For up here I see the planet On it's journey in e-ther All the land and seas and valleys Flow by bravely as can be There is no ship on earthly trip And can dip and dive like these Oh dear what will become of me, she oft was wont to say Luciana Formi-dable Sonar Mickle Mackle Jay Up jumped the market farmer With a bushel full of corn She cried: Oh Luciana, I've the answer to the horns Of your dilemma, don't say never My cornucropia's plenty enuff To inspire you to join us In our village with no fuss Upon your head we'll set a basket Filled with loppet grapes and seeds With another one of rimercrumbs And puckle buns with cheese Well have oafs lift loafs of livers, Bins of pickled berry smots And these we'll load up one by one Atop your curls top-notch You'll bear a towering column Juiced with parsley punckle pie And then your head won't feel so lonesone When it's parted from the sky But a headful is not heedful Cried Lucinia in distress For the eagles would be eatful Soon digest my new headress Oh dear what will become of me, she oft was wont to say Luciana Formi-dable Sonar Mickle Mackle Jay When sudden larked into the fray A creature strange and bold It sat upon a stuffin Spun with centipedes and moles It was a lively Poppin Wearing eye-lits on its nose. Upon its legs an eiderdown Of chitlings hung like sprats And on its head a farthing Wrapped in quipple ripple mats The Poppin spoke up loudly You could hear a pin-stripe drop And this forsooth is what it said No quibbles from its mouth: Luciana Formi-dable Sonar Mickle Mackle Jay The answer is so simple You could find it in the hay The sky is neither here nor there If fact, it's up your nose! And the earth is everywhere as well Your brain, your toes, your clothes So as you step to here now Which is neither high nor low Don't forget there could be eyeslits On the bottoms of your toes And a large one you might find there Quite near to your insole And now as you are travelling Towards this humble earth Think: your head is but a giant wheel A'rolling across the girth Of griddle stars and meteors And quantum streams of beams All frivulous and fravulous All manner of cuisine A cart of wheelies is your body Knows and not, nor in nor out Not quite, but close, well maybe Left nor right, now wipe your snout It's a roundly soundly mixtum Made of moxy frothy broth You have my word, my dictum Yes 'tis true, I swear my troth. And with this the merry Poppin Vanished right before her eyes As Luciana Formi-dable Stepped beside her townsfolk wise Who'd rented for a dollar An immensely circus net For Luciana as she landed Safely, soundly, not a dent Well these days sure have been festy Luciana said at once I think that I'll go out and play Then sneak a snack to scrunch But just as she was leaving Her mind no more perplexed She spied a wanton warbler On a nest of fiddlesticks May I join you mistress warbler On your oaken beam so strong? I've a yen to see how things might be While hanging upside down |