No Fleeting Poem,This!

The Tale of the Golden Bull
by Edward S. Gault

I.
Once
upon a
time, there was

a
village with
a golden bull.

The
people in
the village were

going
through hard
times, so someone

came
up with
this idea to

bring
prosperity back-
they would build

a
spectacle in
the village square

to
draw people
to their dusty

little
corner of
the land. So

they
had everyone
go to collect

whatever
gold they
might have in

their
homes, (and
they didn't have

a
whole lot)
to bring it

to
the village
smith, who then

melted
it all
down. He poured

it
into a
mold he had

created
in the
form of a

bull.
Because the
villagers didn't have

much
gold, the
statue wasn't much

of
a spectacle:
it was only

knee
high. Still
people from the

other
villages did
come, and paid

to
see it!
With the gold

paid
by these
first visitors

the
smith was
able to add

to
the creature-
increasing its size

so
it came
now to the

waist.
More travellers
came giving their

gold,
then going
back to tell

the
news of
the bull (stretching

the
size of
the bull at

the
time they
had seen it).

But
by the
time others had

come
to see
it, it had

grown
to the
size they had

come
to expect!
Before long,

the
bull had
grown to the

height
of the
village church tower.

II.
Around
this time,
People began to

disappear.
They would
go into the

forest
to hunt,
or to get

wood,
and never
return. People grew

afraid
and began
to tell stories

of
bandits, murderers,
and wild beasts.

One
day a
fisherman and his

son
left for the
lake. It was

a
two day
journey through the

woods.
Many people
warned them. This

was
a trip
they had taken

many
times before-
they weren't afraid.

Only
the boy
returned-and he

couldn't
talk. The
villagers grew more

afraid.
Maybe people
would quit coming.

III.
But
people did
come and their

bull
grew as
tall as the

cedars.
Soon people
began to settle

there,
and the
village grew into

a
town, and
then a city.

By
this time
the bull reached

To
the sky.
The city continued

to
grow until
it swallowed up

the
nearby villages,
becoming a metropolis.

It
established its
own mint, becoming

the
kingdom's center
of trade. Poets,

artists,
storytellers, and
performers of every

kind
made the
city a new

Bohemia.
Every night
there were parties

and
celebrations of
every kind-so

naturally,
the people
were much too

busy
to pay
much attention to

reports
that the
disappearances and killings

were
getting closer
and closer. Those

that
did listen
to the reports

simply
laughed, rolled
back their eyes

and
continued drinking
their wine. Sometimes

those
trying to
spread warnings were

jailed
for mischief,
so people learned

to
keep quiet.
Some left for

fear
they would
lose their lives.

One
day, during
the autumn revels,

a
shadow
was cast across

the
land, people
looked up to

where
the sun
should have been-

and
screamed. A
giant claw came

out
of the
sky and swiftly

down
in one
fleeting second, struck

the
golden bull,
sending pieces of

debris
down onto
the city. All

was
havoc in
the streets as

people
ran for
their lives-many

did
not make
it. Some were

mauled
trying to get
out, others were

eaten
alive. Those
who did escape,

travelled
to the
far sides of

the
kingdom where
they settled-and

never
spoke about
their old village.


Copyright 2008

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