The Ballads of Pog

By Ian Wilcox

The Ballads of Pog is a total change of direction for Ian with it not only being a semi children’s novel but with a totally different layout design

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris UK
• Release date: Dec 13, 2019
• ISBN: 9781984593016

Ian Wilcox

Ian Wilcox is a 50+ London born man of many thoughts Although I have been penning verse for over 40 years, it was just a hobby that passed some time. Following a Heart attack and Stroke that left me, among other things, registered visually Impaired I made poetry a reason to learn to adapt so that I could write again. I have a loving Partner and Daughter who are both from the Philippines and are the reason that I smile everyday Messages for Mj is my second Book project this year following the publication of Letters to Lodieta

Book preview

Copyright © 2020 by Ian Wilcox.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 12/13/2019

Xlibris

800-056-3182

www.Xlibrispublishing.co.uk

800614

Contents

The Ballads of Pog

The Ballads So far Explained

The story behind the story

The Ballads of Pog

The Ballads of Pog

There are many places out there that we do not know about.

There are many official secrets deemed not beneficial for public knowledge.

Sometimes, just sometimes, a later reassessment loosens the second but it becomes a bit of a

‘tell only if asked’ type of topic.

The Ballads of Pog falls into this category.

With the mix of events similar to those in our own history, mixed with events way different from our own, the Ballads are a conundrum that defy pure logic.

I asked the right questions, received more than I expected, then tried to make any kind of sense out of it all.

Here are the translated Ballads (by people far cleverer than me), my own interpretation of them and a brief history behind the Book.

Fact or fiction?

You decide

The Peepaloop Marching Song

Thump, thump, thump, thump

Thump, thump, thump, thump

Thump, thump, thump, thump

The Peepaloop are marching together

We are the Peepaloop

Come to take it back

With our Brother already there

We will not stand back

We are the Peepaloop

You should have some fear

We are marching, getting closer

We are getting near

Different clans but same Band

United in our cause

We are the Peepaloop

We will take no pause

Thump, thump, thump, thump

Thump, thump, thump, thump

Thump, thump, thump, thump

The Peepaloop are marching together

Our Brother far needs our help

We will that supply

We all not know him true

But that’s no reason why

To leave alone a single one

When in time of need

For the truth that’s plain to see

He is of our creed

Dear Reader

I am sure that you are now used to my usual style of writing but I have something for you that is quite unusual and, so far, unique

Courtesy of my Daughter, Mj Sumayo, I was informed about a secret exploration of planets outside of our solar system in the search for possible inhabitable worlds.

They not only found one but found both evidence of life but also records of an amazing being

Amazing so much so that their adventures were laid down in a series of Ballads

This intriguing piece of information led me to dig deeper in both the Ballads themselves but also the translation and story behind them

Please find following the results of my search

Ian Wilcox

Pog the magnificent

He wearily trudged through strange new meadows

Past weathered fences ill maintained with barest effort

Marking boundaries to farmsteads he studiously avoided, lest they find his secret

His matted fur dirty and tangled, his sword rocking on his back

At his side bounced the satchel, in it the cause of his quest

He would return a hero, an alpha male, a leader of his clan

The Orb he carried, the stuff of legends, would have the minstrels sing his name

‘Pog the runt’, ‘Pog the weak’ no longer shunned, no longer nipped

A smile broke through his whiskers

His little stubby tail wagged in pleasure as he recognised the next rise

Homeward bound and with stories to tell, he’d have the young pups squealing

He’d braved storms and rain, ventured far to foreign lands and experienced strange new sights

He’d battled Grinchkin, Marmacoupis and the feared Grysiltions and prevailed

But his sternest test and his badge of honour was the meeting with Sylimon

The dreaded lord of Ice, the evil one, once holder of his prize

But with sword in paw, fangs bared and full of cunning and imagination

He’d conquered all who stood before him – now victorious on to the Den

He would at last simply be known as ‘Pog the Magnificent’

Pog the runt

Pogadanis, or Pog for short, was the last of his litter

Born into this world with seven siblings in his brood

As the runt Pog was smaller, thinner and feebler than his brothers and sisters

From day one Pog found that to survive he would have to look after himself

Whether at suckling time, play or life in the burrow

Pushed aside, nipped painfully, generally shunned his character grew

Pog was of the Peepaloop – a rodent like creature living underground in cavernous dwellings

But two things about Peepaloops are that they walk upright using front limbs like arms

The other their amazing eyesight, day and night, and extraordinary sense of smell

Through early years, spent alone, Pog developed imagination and a sense of cunning

Curled up, ignored, amongst the gathering by the fire he listened to the lore’s and fantasised

He dreamed of days when he would find the fabled Orb and return heroically

Though a runt, filled with visions of glory, Pog began to build his form

Solitary runs through empty passages to strengthen muscle and stamina

His urge to explore the wider world developed with a passion

Fantasy became desire and the runt began to turn

Years of blind devotion to his dream began to show in Pog

He was still ‘Pog the runt’ to others but he would make them eat their words

Pog the Adventurer

Pog, now a young adult, still had the passion and desire

Break out of Keradin and see the world of fabled tales

The message in his heart and soul said ’go seek your dream’

So secretly he hoarded food and weapons made and planned his great destiny

To find the object of his visions he would have to journey to Askari

So he sought out maps from the room of all knowledge and studiously traced them onto skins

Then one morning at the rise of the second sun Pog was ready

Belting on his weapons and slinging his knapsack he silently crept out to the outside world

He already knew from experience the nature of the guards, years of study let him know where to go

Zachari was his guard of choice, lazy and prone to sleep, and his scent would cause no alarm after spending hours engaged in talk

True to form as he approached gentle snores drifted on the breeze

So with senses taught like a bowstring the dreamer slipped past to start his great journey

Once clear of the boundary of his Silver Stripe clan he paused to gather his thoughts – Fate and Fortune now defined his path

The next challenge was to pass through the lands of the Blue Crest clan but with years of peace between the clans who would notice a solitary Peepaloop passing through the Forest

So travelling by night and burrowing for day Pog showed a patience not known of his kind

Whilst the Forest was the most direct route to his first destination, the Forchuka town of Inshik, it gave him a bonus

For though Peepaloop enjoyed cooked meat – they quite happily lived on roots and berries

Harvesting what he wanted from the ground Pog not only saved his rations but supplemented them as well – Pog the Adventurer was here

A Dockyard Pog

Pog stood and stared at what was before him

A giant Turtle upside down with skewers emanating from its shell

His land locked stomach suddenly notified him that it was unhappy

For as a Peepaloop he did not naturally travel over water

Yes water to wash with and water to drink

Even a source of energy for those with better minds

But water as a road to travel?

That was a question indeed

Alas no other option lay before him

He knew that when his quest he planned

Trivial then, a source of displaying courage

Now the reality did shake him

Truth stood before him so set in stone

He was going to have to face it

And was going to face it alone

He gathered up his supplies and painted a determined face

Pog marched boldly towards his destiny

Each step nearer was a step of faith

A question of his determination and faith

The smell of tar and foreign objects assaulted his nostrils

An acid taste entered his snout

A twitch of whiskers and another step forward

So began Pog and the ship

Pog and the ship

The ship rolled and bounced and bounced and rolled

To match the feeling in Pogs unhappy stomach

Deep breaths and the taste of salt air failed to cure the feeling

Standing on the open moving deck tightly gripping the slimy handrail

He questioned what sane creature would wish to put to sea?

He tried both flexing and locking his knees to counter the movement

Neither solved the queasy motion of a cork in a bucket

Three days so far and the captain said this was fair weather!

There was nothing fair in feeling like a pebble in a drum

His eyes stung and wept from a combination of spray and lack of sleep

Yet still another week at least, providing good weather

Another creak and another groan emitted from the rigging

To worry Pog that this damned ship was falling apart

He stared into the empty vastness of nothing

Nothing that is except more sea

Even the Birds had deserted them now

They were too wise to venture out this far

Pog sighed and retired back to his cabin

Stretched out on his Hammock and stared blankly at the ceiling

A realisation suddenly leapt to the front of his list of thoughts

Whatever else, his adventure had truly begun

Pog and the storm

The wind howled like a demented Banshee

As Pog clung tightly to the rope that supported his Hammock

The waterproof skins of his bedding locked him tightly

Weightless hovering and then the thump of gravity

Pog closed his eyes and prayed again

Thrown left and right then right and left

All the time cacooned in what was once security

Now a binding before his demise

Terror and confusion filled him wholly

As nature vented with pure fuelled wrath

So sudden and suprising it took all by shock

A sea of calm twisted into fury

Pog closed his eyes and just endured

For nothing to do but endure it

He was helpless and a play toy

So just believe and see it through

But that was easier said than done

Up and down, side to side

The howls they screamed in his ears

Will we survive? Will we endure it?

Those thoughts now filled his world

Screaming shrieks of tortured rope

The bang and crash of a cargo shifting

No shouts of sailors for they were surviving

As the storm it played and played again

Suddenly the wind it ceased, silence crashed instead

The motions ceased and calm replaced them

Just creaks and groans and the thump of cargo

Pog just lay there and laid so still

Pog and firm feet again

It was a sunny day and a pleasant one

The craft approached the quay and Pog was happy

The Birds screeched overhead as if in welcome

Familiar smells of land based living assaulted his nose once again

Subtle mix of beasts of burden mixed with overcooked food

They were welcome like old friends

Gentler now was the feel of motion

The ship coasted in to sheltered waters

Battered and bruised but not defeated

Pogs respect for ‘the upturned Turtle’ had leapt in strides and bounds

Being of gifted vision Pog sighted people before