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In the Shadow of Yangra: The story of a town at the base of the Himalayas that can't seem to get along
Posted by Rabbit Stu, Jun 23, 2008. 1478 views. ID = 1408

In the Shadow of Yangra

Posted by Rabbit Stu, Jun 23, 2008. 1478 views. ID = 1408
This post was written in 5 minutes.
My original idea here was to write a poem about an expedition and post it as my response to the "E" writing prompt. But it ended up being much more than just the story of an expedition, so I decided not to include it under the writing prompt...

...just in case I come up with something else I want to post for E!
This post has been awarded 24 stars by 6 readers.

In the shadow of Yangra lies the city of Dhouls,
Where the children are silly, and the adults are fools.
Here the bickering's constant and the fighting's absurd,
And each person's determined to get the last word.
All the children believe they should be first in line;
If they don't get their way then they whimper and whine.
And the mothers and fathers, we constantly fight,
From the break of the day, to the dark of the night.
Yes, we fight in our homes, and we fight when at work,
From the mayors and kings to the lawyers and clerks.

Yet there lives high above, in his cold mountain lair,
An ascetic, a guru with wisdom to share.
So we set out last week on a brave expedition,
For we've made it our goal and our greatest ambition,
To scale the high mountain and seek out this man;
If there's one who can help us, we know that he can.
We prepared for our climb, and we packed with great care,
So not one could complain that his load wasn't fair.
Every climber was held by a strong sturdy rope,
And with courage we started ascending the slope.
As we climbed we all fought about who was the best,
And complained of the sluggards who needed to rest.
Yes, we bickered and fought all the way to the top,
We all shouted and screamed, and we just wouldn't stop;
When at last we arrived at that great mountain peak,
Not a one of us paused for another to speak.
With much clamor and shouting, we made our need known
To this wisest of men who resided alone.
With impatience we stood in the cold and the wind,
For a day and a half while he sat there and grinned.

Then he scratched on his chin, and he rubbed on his nose,
And he said, "I'm perplexed by you folks who suppose
That a hermit like me would have wise words to give;
There's no wisdom up here on this peak where I live,
For wisdom is gained through the conflicts of life
And I've simply avoided all manner of strife.
I've avoided obtaining the wisdom you seek,
By my life of repose on this fine mountain peak.
But you've traveled quite far, so I'll give it a shot;
I will give some advice, you can heed it or not.
All you moms and you dads, all you fine girls and boys,
While descending the mountain, don't make so much noise;
Don't kick and don't scream, don't yell and don't punch,
Or you'll wake up the yeti, and he'll have you for lunch."


Copyright 2008 Rabbit Stu. All rights reserved. FifteenMinutesOfFiction.com has been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work. For permission to reprint this item, please contact the author.
 


   
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