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By: Skye Posted on: May 28, 2006

Alone sat a boy
By the steps of his home
No playmate, or sibling
He grew up all alone
There he sat and he sighed
And he sighed and he wept
Oh if only he had a friend!

"What ails you child?"
Rang a cheery lilting voice
Before him was a curious little man
Only barely he stood
For he hopped and he pranced
And he pranced and he wriggled
And his clothes were brightly blinding.

"Oh Jester! Sir!"
Cried the little boy in tears
"If you would if you please
Be my playmate and chum!
We can laugh and play
And play and be merry
For all I want is a friend!"

The Jester's heart went out to the boy
For his life was meant to make merry
So he flourished his knife
Dipped in the venom of fools
With a nick and a cut
And a cut and a prick
His actions became clumsy!

"Oh Jester! Sir! What have you done!"
"Fear not!"
The man proclaimed
With wood in hand
He fashioned and he carved
And he carved and he styled
As he worked, it became his likeness.

With a giggle a trifle dark
He held the marionette aloft
Pressing his hand to its timbered heart
Grinning madly he began his work
And he rubbed and chanted
And chanted and laughed
And its eyes flew open with sudden life!

The boy child cowered at the sight before him
"Oh Jester! Sir! You've brought the toy to life!"
"A toy? I think not! This is your new friend!"
The harlequin chided
The puppet grinned and waved
And waved and laughed
All in a most pleasant manner.

Bidding the delighted youth farewell
The Jester resumed his journey
Left alone with his new found friend
The boy crowed with absolute delight
They laughed and played
And played and were merry
Oh how happy he was to have a friend!

They capered and danced for many a day
A child and his puppet as inseparable as can be
But around the corner watched
Menaces of a most unpleasant sort
Oh they chuckled and plotted
And plotted and sniggered
Poor little boy, if only he knew!

"Oi runt wot've ye got thar?"
Jeered a boy of a large, roguish sort
His companions looked no better
"A bit old t'be playin with dolls ain't ya?"
They taunted and hackled
And hackled and teased
Seizing his companion from his trembling hands.

"Oh pray give it back!"
He tearfully begged
Poor little puppet!
Fright was frozen on its painted face!
The bullies cackled and tossed it
And tossed it and caught it
Over and over in a cruel game of catch.

The marionette hurtled in the air
High above its master's head
The little boy chased from ruffian to ruffian
Each time failing to recover it
Left and right
Right and left
Till finally it fell upon the cobblestone road

Tiring of their game at last
They gave him a kick
Just out of spite
And sauntered off down the streets
He cowered and sniffled
And sniffled and whimpered
Scrambling to reach his fallen friend

Under the clocktower the Jester stood
The little boy crawled closer to the marionette
Crowds stood applauding his antics
A carriage rattled down the road at an alarming pace
He took a bow, bells on his hat jingling
The driver rang his bell frantically
The crowd watched in horror
He watched in horror
As he twisted and snapped
The puppet twisted and snapped
And snapped and cracked
And snapped and cracked
Like a broken marionette.
Smashed beyond repair.