Good Galen

The Groggle and Vimir did play a dark game

As they rompled and jumpered along the street main.

Swing round and swing to, went the cavered canoe,

'Fore it struck with a thwack upon good Galen's shoe.

"What for?" cried the Vimir. "What who and why how?"

But Galen spoke not as he furrowed his brow.

Then pittered and pattered small feet went away

At sound of the show down 'tween dark night and day.

Quite heavy and thick hung the scent of hard pine.

And a distant cricket cried beneath twisted twine.

A pebble, a murmur, a bubble, then none,

Where a silence now hung till the battle were done.

First Groggle did gimper and scurry and hide,

Whilst the Vimir grew twenty and thirty feet wide.

Black clouds and white tree trunks scarce shadowed the scene,

Then shrunk did good Galen to the size of a bean.

"Galumph," swalled the Vimir as he downed his mite foe.

Then echoes of teardrops fell round the deep snow.

The Groggle and Vimir traullumped and hallayed

Yet with crackle and sizzle they burst their charade.

A harrowing sound and a furrowing bang

Went voices immense in the song that they sang.

The Groggle and Vimir burst once and twice more.

And good Galen returned to the cobblestone floor.

A fissure of cloud did that morning then see

With dawn peeking down on Galen's victory.

Then song broke the way through the settling air

And ne'er were forgotten the happiness there.