When the Jambler Heard a Sound

by Amelie Coyle

On the murkiest of nights by the boricow lagoon
The Jambler wandered in the light of the moon.
An ice-cold wind steadily blew
And the booming thunder came crashing through.

The water glistened as the moon shone down
And reflected shimmering patterns all around.
A spangly jangly norjay plant was floating in the air
As the norjay leaves cascaded down and landed everywhere.

Then the Jambler heard a sound and peered up to the sky –
A sound in the distance, a melancholy cry!
The voice echoed on,
Echoed,
Echoed,
The voice echoed on, oh why, oh why?
The Jambler couldn’t stand it – he ran to the sound,
He ran and ran until he found…

A juniper child from the Grumpipan Isle!
He must have been sitting there quite a while
As a current of water from his eyes had trickled down
And created a pool in the centre of town.

The Jambler slowly sat down and smiled,
Saying, “Why are you crying, juniper child?”
His smooth, gentle voice could calm a lion,
But the juniper child carried on crying.

Nothing the Jambler said could make him speak
As torrents of tears flooded down his cheek.
But then an idea came to the Jambler,
An idea as vibrant and wonderful as amber.

He would play to the child a soothing song,
And surely that would fix what was wrong.
So off the Jambler went to fetch his flute
As the owls behind tooted their hoot.

When the moon was at its full, the Jambler returned
To the Juniper child about whom he was concerned.
The child was still crying, filled with emotions,
The currents, then torrents, the torrents, then oceans.

The Jambler slowly took out his flute
(Whilst wearing a marvellous ebony suit)
And then with a breath, deep from his lungs,
And his flute made from ladder rungs,
The Jambler played,
Played,
Played,
The Jambler played a wonderful song,
A song from the oceans, a song from the seas,
A song from the hilltops, a song from the trees.

Then suddenly no more crying was heard!
Not a sound from the town, not a sound from a bird –
The juniper child had fallen asleep
As he rested his head on a mangorey leaf.

“Peace at last!” the Jambler breathed,
Over the sound of the clouds as they seethed,
So off he wandered under the moon
By the side of the boricow lagoon
As an ice-cold wind steadily blew
And the booming thunder came crashing through.