Great Wave, Green Island [49]

By Tom Parker

Easter time Green Island
Down by Conjola Pond
Bunch of mates paddling
Great wilderness beyond

Having just a chatter
To Wilde it did not matter
When Great Wave stood up with glee
Confronting Pittarak and me

“Duck,” shouted Wilde
Or similarly styled
And faced with this predicament
I tended to agree

The liquid prism stood erect
Reared its brilliant head of white
Amazing power set to remove
Pittarak from sight

From tip to trough
It’s mighty strength
Uncoiling, at least
Twice Pittarak length

Graphite lever lancing out
Like flying foil in search of touch
Trying to pierce mighty armour
Not succeeding very much

Green prism turned to froth and bubble
Realise now, meaning of trouble
Stood his ground thoroughbred
Bold face, white mountain overhead

Mix volcano, thunder, quake and rattle
Thus imagine scene of battle
Huge liquid fist launched from shoulder
Rocketed down like granite boulder

Thoughts of David facing ‘G’
Came to Pittarak and me
In less time than takes to trip
We were in the monster grip

Crunch and twist and plunge asunder
Dumping tons of liquid anger
Shaking rattling doing all
Make the Pittarak take the fall

Light was gone
South was north
Up and down absurdity
Air was in minority

Facts cease to exist or so we think
When faced with this reality
Great and intelligent like air
Focus becomes necessity

Flash of conversations past
With brothers in sea caves
Survivors de millennia
Handed down the craft

Recall the construct for
Fleeing from the wrath of Thor
Deploy, bear, twist in black abyss
Drive Pittarak to floor

Great Wave did not intend
Escape without some more
Dragging, pummelling
Half league to shore

Old sea horse jumped to the challenge
Battling neath the wash before it
Erupting eddies tearing, churning
Pittarak screaming

Minutes more this bristling craft
Endured last fury bent
On domination of free spirit
Air was spent

Pittarak like champ defied
In control till wrath depleted
Driving upward to the light
Froth ubiquitous

As bubble cleared and muscle eased
Green and blue to see once more
With one last gasp of measured stroke
Roll, upright, facing seaward

As venture turns to virtuality
And quest and exploration cease
Tale of Green Island and Great Wave
Will be told in some sea cave

How Pittarak
Endured the fury and the rend
Faithful to commander
To the bitter end

Now if you think it too awesome
To contemplate such contest
Great Wave, Green Island or Tsunami
Well… there’s always Origami