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Penguard the Crusher

By J. Michaels*


Penguard the Crusher
A man of meager means
A hollowed out stump was his throne
He longed to be king of the Norsemen
But alas, he lived all alone

 Penguard the Crusher was a very large man
He stood well nigh to thirty hands
Inside he bore yet a larger heart
But life had deemed to tear it apart
 
His life had been filled with violence
He had savaged a man or two
His soul was chipped away with each
Yet he knew not what else to do
 
One day upon the path to nowhere
He encountered a tiny girl
She was lost and beaten and battered
She knew not which way to turn
 
In his heart, he cried for the little one
It ached as he saw her pain
She reminded him of the life he lived
Had he lived it but in vain
 
Pen's kingly dreams would have to wait
He had someone now to protect
This lost, lonely waif before him
The last thing he thought to expect
 
For much time, the waif would not speak
Her voice had lost its tone
Then one simple act of kindness
Would remind the child of home
 
Old Pen held out his battle-worn hand
To offer the child some bread
She had eaten not for many a day
Starvation, her impending dread
 
The child had been left homeless
From the battles that men do wage
She had lost both father and mother
At such a tender age
 
Old Pen now saw those wars he'd waged
Written upon her face
Far too much for a child to know
At such a tender age
 
The old Norseman's heart was broken
As he looked upon the child
Knowing the life he lived
May have cast her to the wild
 
He had fought and pillaged for many a year
For this was all he knew
Never a boy to be remembered
Hardness and cruelty was all his due
 
Penguard took mercy now on this child
He would raise her as his own
He would cease the lonely warrior's life
And make them both a home
 
He thought what needs the child might have
He knew so little of such
He had no gold or silver
His trove was not so much
 
Yet he would find a way to warm her
To ease her pain somehow
He would be the lost father to her
They would be a family now
 
So Pen welcomed her to his home at last
It was little for the eye to see
Yet the child smiled as she entered
She had a place to be!
 
The years wore on
The girl grew strong
From the love and guiding hand
Of the old and worn out Norseman
Who had long ago left his band
To raise a child abandoned
A waif who had lost her home
He now atoned for his fruitless life
He had taken this child as his own
 
All those years did soften Pen's heart
The girl, he truly did love
God had granted his dream somehow
A gift from Heaven above
 
She attended him now as he lay in bed
Life seeping from his aged frame
She had long since forgiven
The man she had never blamed
 
For he had given her life
And the love of a guiltless man
She now caressed his glowing face
And she let him understand
That all he had done and committed
Was washed away by love
She then gently released him
To join his Father above

from

Leave the Bones copyright 2010 J. Michaels
 
J. Michaels
Writer, Storyteller & Poet
Website: www.jmichaelsbooks.biz
Blog: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/theovernightpoet/

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