Big Time Charlie

What never existed has now gone –
Just a figment of pure imagination;
Like a Willy Wonka chocolate bar,
An exotic, ethereal confection.

See I wasn’t Charlie Bucket with a Golden Ticket:
I was Augustus Gloop swimming in the soup,
Violet Beauregarde chewing gum too hard,
Veruca Salt in the bad nut vault,
Mike Teavee, about the size of a flea.

When the Oompa-Loompas sang at last,
The Great Glass Elevator didn’t ascend;
No it plunged straight down, direct to hell,
So its occupant could finally comprehend.

With glittering eyes you can search for magic
But what first seems sweet can end up tragic.

Okanagan Odyssey: Chapter Six

The five-strong party soon regrouped
Their questing spirits hadn’t drooped
The angel’s words had warmed their souls
Just like an engine fueled with coals.

Although they might not share her creed
They’d call on her in times of need,
To combat forces of despair,
Despondency must best beware.

Bus as for now they had to plot
A course towards their Camelot,
For only there would they then find
The quest that brought their stars aligned.

They’d heard it said it lay due north
So on that heading they set forth;
Yet hadn’t even hit their stride
When desert stretched horizon-wide.

They stopped a while to have a think
(And also have a little drink),
Outside a tavern thought a myth:
The Adega on 45th.

While pondering, something quite bizarre
Passed quickly by – a yellow car!
They watched it speed off ‘cross the land,
It vanished like a grain of sand.

“Hey, yellow car!” Ser Salmon yelled
Transfixed by what he had beheld;
“We can afford to go explore
If we’ve a car or 4×4.”

Such transportation there was not
Yet somehow they had near forgot:
The camel camels by the tree,
Just perfect for this territory.

To cross the arid, desolate waste
Could not be done by day in haste,
So when dusk fell they took their steeds
To brave the dust and tumbleweeds.

While navigating overnight
“La Stella” was their guiding light,
Their polestar leading them towards
Their epic win, their great rewards.

As dawn approached they made their camp
Before the sun could blaze its stamp;
They slept all day until it set,
Then mosied on without its threat.

This pattern carried on for days
From waning light to morning haze;
The desert’s kingdom seemed immense,
The end of it they could not sense.

Yet end it did when on a ridge
They spied below a rainbow bridge;
There guarding it was Whiskey Jack,
A gruesome golem, marble black.

Now Mister Jack was quite the brute,
Misconduct, mayhem, his strong suit;
But snores told them the golem slept,
So cross the bridge the party crept.

And lo, what do you think they found
When once again on solid ground?
Yes after they had been to roam
Their path had led them all back home.

The Jam

Oh come now friends, new countrymen,
Lend ears to my preamble,
Concerning sylvan fugitives
That lurk within the bramble.

**Spoiler alert** for those that care,
This account is rather short;
The gang weren’t on the run for long,
In fall they all were caught.

They got jammed up at their last job,
Their bodies black and blue;
No razzmatazz, no last hurrah,
This berry band were through.

Now you can whine, you may want more,
But that’s the story told;
The forest fruits are now in jars
Worth twice their weight in gold.

Stranger than Fiction

“Little did he know” is our beginning
With the introduction of Harold Crick;
When he hears a voice, his day narrating,
He wonders – is he a schizophrenic?
Oh Harold isn’t mad, certainly not,
But his life is much stranger than fiction;
He stars in a book, his routine its plot
Where his death is soon planned to be written.
Avoiding their fate’s what most would attempt
But dear Harold saw no use pretending;
He couldn’t cheat death, he wasn’t exempt-
He saw beauty accepting his ending.
“Little did he know” is where we began;
Once he did, he showed, how to die a man.