Tag: tale

The Devoted Friend from Project Gutenberg

One morning the old Water-rat put his head out of his hole. He had bright beady eyes and stiff grey whiskers and his tail was like a long bit of black india-rubber. The little ducks were swimming about in the pond, looking just like a lot of yellow canaries, and their mother, who was pure… Continue reading The Devoted Friend from Project Gutenberg

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Another Tale of the WildWoods

There’s a land behind those hills Hidden in the forest, One mighty foliage; of brushes & roots At all times, Cloud is blue And King of the Forest Do fall in love with it When the Cloud blush It rains softly; mildly And little creatures Which live in the land Look up to the smiling… Continue reading Another Tale of the WildWoods

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Quiet Lakeside

Once upon a quiet lakeside, Where blue clouds stay, With very thick fog dwell, And tall Figs hide in them Like towers, Over a host of colours, Painting down the valley When the sun rays fall And the forest below So all may turn to gold. Clouds are not left behind They shine in the… Continue reading Quiet Lakeside

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The Boy Who Cried “Wolf”

This is one of Aesop’s most famous fable. It’s old but not rusty. As you read through note that the fastest way to lose what we call our good character is to lose our honesty. There was once a shepherd boy who kept his flock at a little distance from the village. Once he thought… Continue reading The Boy Who Cried “Wolf”

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The Shepherds Tale

Lonely stars filled the cloudy night Crickets quizzed behind the rocks But the lonely Shepherd stayed awake Watching the glittering from the star light Listening to the bleating of sheep, his lullabic songs Sniffing wet and mild airs that came from the lake He lays on his soft pillow of wool Wrapping his arms about… Continue reading The Shepherds Tale

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First Words of P’Ville, SummerTown

When the Winter Witch got tired of the warmth Which the fine golden sun brought She decided to leave the sunny, pitiful city And with her she took all her trinkets and jewellery Then she would stare across the vast wild Oat fields And all she saw was melting ice and she always sighed In… Continue reading First Words of P’Ville, SummerTown

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Darkness falls…

The cries of night wolves and wild dogs
Rent the airs far away deep in the forest
The wind grew milder, the moon light brighter
And the sweet lullabies ring out from homes
A tradition, one which the little ones adore
The evening simmer into a deep darkness
As the African tales went on, on bedsides

So went the day, in this quiet hamlet

Once upon a time…
It was a night of bitter cold
And snowy storms gathered,
The weight of snow lay thick
Upon tree leaves and branches
The slopes wore a sore face
For the ice cold winter air
Was so cruel to the night
The little lake was half frozen
And the ducks flew away
To vacations in other lands
The moon was quite bitten too
For she went pale with each burst
Of the ice cold wind
And the animals suffered frostbites

Several snow balls raced down
From the clouds, falling in circles
With the wind blowing them off
Swinging about like the dance of the flame
Upon a straight candle…
The Ice King stood motionless
Admiring the triangular Mountain
Which stood at the edge of the forest
Birds came to lack their songs and voices
For the moisture on their beaks was gone…
Gone with the freezing hands of the Night
The squirrels and hamsters stay huddled
Waiting for the morn, for the sun to rise
But the Night was way too young to go
So in mockery, she teased her inhabitants
The deer, the moose, the doves and the owl
No one was bold enough to walk the night
Even the trees on the forest wished for a citadel
It was severely cold; terribly, ferociously cold!
The wolf pack came bounding in from the hunt
Eyes red like the smoking sulphur, hungry and bent
Under the tree shed, just beneath the tree roots
The rats burrow, seeking the dark earth to warm up
Partially avoiding the new arrivals, the wolf pack
For they were rude and ruthless like the cold night
‘I wonder why the Night is at her worst tonight’
The leader of the wolf pack began with a sniff
‘See! I can’t even feel my fur, it is terribly sinister’
Another wolf called out to the hungry pack
‘Maybe the Night is heartbroken, can’t you see?’
The ferns that grow by the tree roots said
‘Or yet the Night is wooing the heartless Mountain
With her face turned to the east of the forest’
The turtle dove on the tree branch offered
‘I agree totally with you’ a dark Cricket quipped
‘Nonsense! I say she is confused, absolutely confused!
How can she ever love with such coldness?
How can she be heart broken and punish others with her pain?
I say she is a confused person, and so she is!’
The leader of the wolf pack suggested, angrily
‘As for me, it is not adequate enough to conclude why,
But pain and love can also cause persons to grow cold’
The philosophical woodpecker reasoned

When I am not making the rain fall
And flood the villagers huts and farms
And to make the river banks overflow
So that the forests pathway is swampy
And the great crocodiles are washed ashore;
Then I will be watching the glittering stars
And talking about the stars, the night and moon
Well, the night is never complete without a tale
For the sleepy little ones,
But this time, no reading from a book
I shall tell you of the Forest and her folks
… Oke- Iroegbu

(a)
Once when the Forests owned all the land
And the Forest King has loved the greens
For it spread, such that the white mountains
Were covered with green grasses and plants
The Wind truly loved the look on the Mountain
For during the Winter, she had grown terribly cold
That she felt absolutely nothing even for the Wind
Then she had no dimples, no smiles, no blushing
Then it was only the Tomato that blushed about
Tanners, farmers, pupeteers called out to her
And all she could was smile and blush deep red
The Ice King wooed the Mountain and usually
Gathered about her face to give her a warm kiss
But this never went down well with the cool Wind
Now that the Ice King has gone with his captains
And Summer has come, the Forests came with their greens
How awlful, the Wind felt all year round
Seemed he was just a big time born loser!
But the true logic being that the Mountain
Was never meant for this young Wind

(b)
Now it was the tradition that the young men
Cut wood in the neighboring green forests
Before they can be allowed to chose a maiden
There was no axes in the town and near hamlets
And men were desperate for things
Even when they are not ready and ripe for it
Mirtle was a young man, despised and frail
Naturally dull, but deep inside he was a man
The youth of the hamlet, saw him as a weakling
And infact unfit for this great competition
So he was abandoned, and the other men
Went deep into the hearts of the green forest
Looking for wood, for there was no axe then
Then came dwarves walking about the hamlet
Without food or warm clothing
And night came upon them daily
And they starve and want warmness
And no one cared or even looked at them
For the villagers loathed the dwarves
But not all of them were villains
The weak Mirtle might be weak physically
But he had compassion and love
And knew what it meant to be cold
Not from the treacherous night weather
But from the hatred that lurks in peoples hearts
Mirtle gave his food and warm cloths
To some of the dying dwarves
Sharing with them till he had none
One night, the Chief Dwarf presented a gift
And lo! An axe, not just ordinary
And so Mirtle had wood and a fair maid
For his kindness to strangers in need

I knew you got the message, I had imagined and made this story to teach about love and kindness. Abraham entertained angels without knowing it.

Nothing compares to the sweet sleep
Of all good and hardworking shepherds
He retires with a fine and adorable smile
And to his bed of wool, he lays
Tuning into the local radio station
To listen to some old folk songs
Nodding almost silently to the rhythm
Smiling to the memories of the stressful day
And the little Lavender he found on the way

The night is quiet, warm and cosy
The moon is wearing a cute smiley
But to his lonely blanket he clings
As the duckling will to the Hens wings
And the air about is moist and fresh
This is his own warm and perfect nest
Thanks to the open wooden window
The light in the room is very low
And there is enough breeze to go around
Even the noisy brown crickets are ignored
The screeching of all strange insects-
The nomads of the quiet nights
Rent the air, disturbing companions
But the lonely Shepherd slept on
And soon a beautiful dream
One of fantasy; milk, honey a-swimming
Shall dawn upon his big and weary head
And so, in such times he laughs out aloud!

When it is time to leave the hamlet
To leave the vales and the thornful paths
To seek fresh and sweet grasses
For the little bleating lamb and sheep
The shepherd wakes from his slumber

The roads are rocky and mountainous
Filled with stubborn stones and quarry
The mistletoe grow on the roadside
But the herd march on, happily to other places
Minding the bushes and hare traps

The morning is mild, the sun not awake yet
The clouds heavy with dew and mists
And when the herd sees the gliitering stream
They rush forward for a splash and cold drink
Gulping and disturbing the little fishes

The shepherd bends to wash his sooty face
A young lamb rushes to him, nudging him lightly
Then he stretches his palm, touching her face
Running his hands up and down her neck
And in that delight, she bleats excitedly

The noon comes with the suns heat
The trees provide shed for the shepherd and his herd
He sits on a rock to watch the amazing sight before him;
Lovely lamb and fine sheep grazing humbly
On a vast green valley, full of life

He looks up to the tree branches
As beautiful plummages sing joyfully
And the humming bees that stay on the tree
Smiles draw across his handsome ruddy face
For this lovely sight he sees each day

Even so, the airs become milder as the sun set
The herd walk up to him as he whistle to them
In a few minutes, he has called all to himself
And towards the hamlet behind the hills, they went
Happy again to splash through the waters of the stream

In the evening when the sun is finally set
The happy shepherd returns home to his fluffy bed
For a quick modest dinner of warm milk and bread
And on his bed he turns and tosses to find some rest
Counting the sheep in his mind, and smiling in his sleep

Have you seen the sun set over the dark clouds
Behind the lonely traveller marching up the hilly mounds?
The evening sets in, covering all the light living on Earth
It was about time for, moon-lit tales and screeching crickets

The wind surge, we are left to feel it
The birds fly away, as the sun set
The clouds are dark, beckoning to a storm
And the people haste about bringing all the drums

The hopes live on, the days gone past,
I sit musing, letting reason come over wit
Like Ali Baba calling out to his forty men
The love I have for you I feel deep within

I shall look upon Thee
In the face of the rising sun
And on the evenings airy breeze

Your beauty inspires me
I sit staring into the air
I see you walk to me
Entangling me in your embrace
Doing this little laugh
I always grew fond of

My joy knows no limit
The fragrance of your Love
Smears my soft heart
And in the nights I drove
To come see you
And to your smiles anew

Though the day took its toil
On my weary face and body
Your warmth suits me to the soul
I lay wondering how it be, how lucky
The evenings we shall watch the Sun take its fare
And the nights I shall pull your hair

The King of Athens killed the son of Minos, King of Crete. In revenge, Minos conquered Athens and forced its King to send him seven youth and seven maidens every year as a tribute. These victims were then sent into a huge maze, or labyrinth on an island where they were devoured by a monster, half bull and half human, known as the Minotaur. A year came, and Theseus, son of the Athenian King bravely offered to form part of the doomed company. When he arrived in Crete, the daughter of Minos fell in love with him and gave him a sword and a piece of thread before he entered the maze. With the sword Theseus killed the Minotaur and with the thread he found his way back. The company was saved and the brave prince set sail to Greece.
Now Theseus had told his father, whose name was Aegeus that if he killed the Minotaur and found his way back he would hoist white sails as he came into port. But Theseus was so eager to arrive home that he forgot to do so. When Aegeus saw the black sails of the returning ships he thought his son was dead. In his grief the old King threw himself into the sea, which has ever since been called the Aegean Sea in memory of him.

I met an old man
Walking down the lane
Passing thru the barn
With a face, bold and stern
He dropped his stick
And I watched him stoop
His body rattled, weak
And down the steps, I took a hop
“Hello sire, lemme help you”
He looked up, a bright smile
“Oh, goodness, my son, bless you
i had been on the road for miles!”
The evening was cold
A storm was on its way
“Please do come inside
And I shall bake you some cake”
The face brightened the more
And thru the steps I led him
Taking our time as we head to the door
The sun sets, the clouds dim
And then the winds blew
Snow balls fall in drunk circles
And the road was full of white hue
I set the little brown kettle
And soon it was whistling
“Sire, you can stay the night”
I saw the hope in his eyes, dwindling
“Thanks for your hospitality”
He smiled again with some pain
The bulb up the ceiling kept shining
And I see glares of the old man
Take a side look, once and again
After tea and very hot shower
He lay on the bed, with his eyes on the ceiler
I sensed the unease, and made for the bed
“Sire, is anything the matter?”
He grunted and calmly shook his head
“Nah son, but I kept watching
This little light shining up there
I prefer to sleep on something
Afar off this little Sun up there!
I dont know what holds that”
He pointed to the bulb, carefully
Trying to let me see
Why the bed should be moved
Fearing should the hand
Holding the bulb decides to let go
What might become of him

A Tale of Fantasia

There’s a land far far away Somewhere any good traveller can reach A strong march thru fields of green and yellow wheat Which on it hides, flesh eating Ostriches And undisturbed monitors fighting to get a bite of flesh A sky that changes apparitions when stirred Across the long deep oceans With sea monsters, cucumbers… Continue reading A Tale of Fantasia

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Some Tales of the Wildwoods 2

There’s a land behind those hills Covered in the forest A green foliage; brushes and roots All the time the Clouds are blue And the king of the Forest Do fall in love with it When the cloud blushes It rains softly; mildly And the little creatures Which live in the land Look up to… Continue reading Some Tales of the Wildwoods 2

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A Tale of the Lakeside

Once upon a quiet lakeside Where blue skies stay And very thick fog dwells With tall Figs hiding in them Hanging like towers There’s a riot of colors Down the valley When the sun rays fall On the forest below All turns to gold The clouds are not left behind They shine gloriously The water… Continue reading A Tale of the Lakeside

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A Tale of the Lakes: The Duck

Once upon a quiet lake Beside a green forest Lived a Duck and her chicks All day they waddle through the waters Enjoying the serenity A day came and the Duck Brought her chicks all about her ‘Quack quack Daak’ she began ‘You have been friends With the Turtle You know the Lake More than… Continue reading A Tale of the Lakes: The Duck

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