Friday, June 14, 2013

The Truth


(from Twisted But Half True Lore’s And Tales)
Robin Hilsinger-Christensen

Pig Brother One, studied his blueprints.
The wire and mortar enough for a new fence.
Surround the home, humble, but strong as an ox,
Safety assured, more than Fort Knox.

Pig Brother Two, he patted his snout,
Pig Brother Three, said, “One; what a lout!”
Fumbling, peculiar, tapping his ear,
Was Brother One serious?  Was there something to fear?

It happened one Tuesday when lounging around,
That Samuel B. Wolf, came ambling, no sound.
Sam sleeked ‘round corners and slunk to and fro,
His stomach was growling and churning like dough.
The only solution kept haunting his mind,
Pig Brothers, all four, what a marvelous find.

With one chomp on Four, he drug him away,
And never again, would Four’s voice have a say.
Brothers' Three, all we’ve heard and only we've known,
Since Four, he was murdered, with nary a groan.
His hide it was skinned, and his bones were fried deep,
Wolf basted and barbequed the boar. What a creep.

Brother One, he kept working while his siblings kept play,
No worries of Four, he’d be back some day…
One, shouted with warning, with each brick he kept score,
“You better start building lest you want Sam B. Wolf at your door!

Days had gone by and brick turned to walls.
One's home proved quite strong, and ready for calls.
But his brothers, Two and Three, kept dancing their jigs,
There homes slapped together made for weak and wobbly digs.

What stupid little pigs.
One’s fireplace was stoked, the Dutch oven, it hung
His home, unpretentious, decorated fung-shung.
Pig Two and Pig Three unable to jostle,
Danced and jigged, until they grew docile.

But around the bend, upon the hill, north,
Samuel B. Wolf made his move steady forth.
With chops now all gone, and licking of lips,
Samuel B. Wolf was ready for nips.

To knock on Two’s door was only polite,
But making his point, showed teeth to bring fright.
“Pig Two, my man, kind soul, thoughtful friend,
Open your door and let me come in!”

Two, now worried that he shunned instruction from One,
Scurried to close curtain and drape, light from the sun.
Instructions from One: “In the Event of” lay torn,
What did it say? What did it warn?

“Pig Two!” Hollered Wolf with a huff and a puff,
Invitation for dinner I hold in my cuff.
An ale we’ll share from my own private brew,
Carrots, potatoes, my gourmet simmered stew.
I – We will lounge after dinner with drink in my – our hands,
A Toast to all pigs ROASTED and BROASTED and PACKED IN TIN CANS!

Brother Two in a panic burst through the back door,
Not a minute too soon as his house turned to floor.
Like never before did he run like the wind,
And pounding, Two squealed! “Brother Three! Let me come in!”

“Samuel B. Wolf just paid me a visit.
He intends to skewer my ham! Baste it, exquisite!
His freezer is empty and needs to be filled,
That Wolf, he is horrid, Brother Four he did killed.”

In his office, askew, Brother Three found instruction,
“Says here Brother Two, we need better construction.”
Samuel B. Wolf could be seen rounding the ben,
“Quickly!” Three shouted, “To the smarter of kin!
Run now don’t saunter, run like before,
He’s huffing and puffing! My house! Soon no more!”

Samuel B. Wolf stood, blew into cupped hands,
His plan it was working. Even seasoned his pans.
With all Pig Brothers in one sound location,
Butchery and prep work, a perfect cook station.

Standing on rubble of once cozy room,
Samuel B. Wolf could hear cries of pig-doom.
“Wolf, he did puff and he huffed,” they did scream,
“‘till dust is all left, a nightmare from dream.
Tell us you said so, we’ll sleep on the floor!
Remember, we’re brothers, please, open your door!”

Brother One with a smirk, but ego none he,
Let Brother Two in, and then Brother Three.
The table was set and the dishes shone clean,
The look on One’s face was serious and mean.

A shovel, a hoe, a spatula, a knife,
“Brother Two, Brother Three, choose without strife.
Generations of terror, of fighting and discord,
More wrangling and killing, we cannot afford.”

Wolf he did huff, and puffed in full passion,
But Brother One’s home, held up in good fashion.
“A wrath” said in anger, “I bring to this home!
Now let me inside or I’ll crash through your dome!”

Pig One, he did answer and opened the door,
Which stunned the Pig Brothers’, Sam Wolf, even more.
“What is this you pork chop, you sausage, glazed ham!
You think you can trick me? Remember, I can!
My pans are all seasoned, my grill, it is ready,
You think you can fool me, throw me off steady?”

“Enter,” One instructed and gestured with curtsy,
Our fare, there is plenty and prepared without mercy,
With Wolf tartar, and canine sweet feet,
We’re ready for company. We saved you a seat.

Samuel B. Wolf ranted and cursed!
“Don’t worry said One. We’ll let you pick first.”
His plan it was working, Wolf bullied no more.
That swine! Why did he open it? I can’t blow down that door!

Wolf’s pride was broken, he sunk in defeat,
To home on the mountain, without any meat.
His days of baked ham, cinnamon and clove,
Were forever behind him, no need for a stove.

Nary a word and years had gone by,
When Brother One’s son came strolling, a nigh.
He smiled. His eyes twinkled, but not smart like his dad,
His uncles, he took after, poor little lad.

Her coat, silver-silky, her shape, ooh, voluptuous,
Oh, to know her… the thought, it scrumptious.
Wolf’s daughter, he noticed, she gave him wink.
He rubbed his snout charming, She likes me, I think…

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