FanStory.com - The Gobbledegooks by kiwisteveh

FanStory.com
"The Gobbledegooks"

Chapter 1
Gobbledegooks

By kiwisteveh

In the magical land of the Gobbledegooks
Where the King and the Queen and the Princes and Dukes
All trip through the trees in their velvety gowns
With a posse of peacocks, a convoy of clowns,
A pair of princesses, their noses aloft,
The Queen Mother borne on a cushion so soft,
A flourish of courtiers trotting behind
The Sultan of Sambar at leisure reclined
On a litter embroidered with thread made of gold
(From the mines of King Solomon, so I am told)
A Jester, a Joker, a Juggler, a Jack
And a Maharajah on an elephant's back,
A soldier, a sailor, a pastry-cook too
And the King's favourite minstrel, the only one who
Can sing him a lullaby, twirl him a tale
To send him to sleep when the wind blows a gale,
A flurry of serving-boys scuttling about
And the Queen's second cousin (the one with the pout)
A knight in his armour, a dragon (of course)
A panther, a tiger, a camel, a horse...

Oh, Phew! Are we finished? No, who's this I see?
Right there at the end, oh now, who can it be?
A particular person, their face painted blue;
If you don't mind me saying...
It looks just
Like
YOU!

Author Notes Hmmm... the prompt is a bit ambiguous. It is titled Kiddies' Motivational Poem but the instructions say any topic, any style.

If you're very, very good, I'll read the poem again. There, how's that for motivation?!

Try to imagine this as a brilliantly coloured picture book with one or two lines on each page and on the very last page a small blue mirror for the 'looks just like YOU!' finale.

Chapter 2
Where's Rupert?

By kiwisteveh

Oh say you remember the Gobbledegooks,
Cor blimey, what funsters! Good gracious! Gadzooks!
Today there's a flurry, like waves on the ocean;
Prince Rupert's gone missing, now here's a commotion.

A pirate, a parrot, a ferret, a flea,
Adrift in the boisterous, roisterous sea,
Sail past in a schooner (or is it a galleon?)
In search of that rascally, ratbag rapscallion.

Fandangle-fantabulous falcons in flight,
A troll on a tricycle trailing a kite,
Kaleidoscope jesters cartwheeling through hoops
And tatterdemalion, tumbleweed troops,

The King and the Queen, the Princesses (of course!)
Squirrels on scooters, Girl Guides on a horse,
All fossick through foliage, trawl through the trees
And rummage round rockpools, all soaked to their knees.

The playground is plundered, the park's been inspected,
No hiding-place ever so small is neglected
Nobody can spot 'im, nobody can see 'im
In sweet-shop or toy-shop or Mushroom Museum.

The Queen's getting frazzled, the King is perplexed,
The Grand-Duke's bamboozled on what to do next.
Then midst all the hubbub, the hoo-ha and fizz,
A wee voice starts singing, "I know where he is!"

'Tis Hilda the youngest of scullery maids,
The sweetest of face and the longest of braids.
The Lords and the Ladies stop speaking and swallow
And when Hilda beckons, they all of them follow.

Down steep, stony staircases, several flights,
Past suits of old armour from long-ago knights.
Past state-rooms and banquet-halls, dungeons and such,
Through velvety curtains that sway to the touch.

They march through the kitchen where Cook's baking bread,
A great cloud of flour-dust swirls round her head.
A dozen assistants all scuttle about;
The great oven's smoking, red flames flicker out.

At last to the scullery, dingy and dim
And stacked to the tippy-top, uppermost brim
With frypans and saucepans and ramekins too,
With wee pots for custards and large pots for stew.

And there in the corner a cauldron gigantic
Where Hilda leads all of the searchers so frantic.
Right there in the pot-bottom, down in the deep,
Lies little Prince Rupert, still smiling, asleep.

The Grand-Duke's elated, the court is ecstatic,
Their shouting awakens the bats in the attic
Who flock from the belfry, a dark flapping cloud
And swoop o'er the heads of the up-gazing crowd.

"Hoorah!" cry the people, the Gobbledegooks,
"Hoorah!" echo all of the Lords and the Dukes.
The King gives a speech to which nobody listens
And there on the cheek of the Queen, a tear glistens.

The servants, excited, give Hilda a cheer -
They name her the scullery-maid of the year.
And as for Prince Rupert, a moment he'll borrow
To whisper to Hilda, "Can I come back tomorrow?"

Chapter 3
The Gobbledegooky Fandangle Parade

By kiwisteveh

Oh, the Gobbledegooks have a party today,
On the Feast of Fandangle, let's watch them at play.
'Tis midsummer magic and holiday mirth,
Most surely the happiest place on the earth.

The castle's bedecked with blue bunting and cheer
And Hilda (the scullery-maid of the year)
Has finished her chores and is free to go down
Over drawbridge and moat to the heart of the town.

The streets are alive with a great bustling throng;
There's markets and minstrels and music and song.
The jesters and jugglers perform where they please
And the acrobats fly from a twinkling trapeze.

Admired by the cheerful and colourful hordes.
Magog the Magician is swallowing swords.
A puff of blue smoke, then a thunderclap's heard -
Magog's disappeared, he's replaced by a bird.

Then far down the street, there's a stir and a shout
Where the stilt-walking clowns are all teet'ring about.
A column of cohorts, a grand cavalcade,
It's the Gobbledegooky Fandangle Parade.

A stately old elephant leading the way,
On her back rides the King; hear the crowd shout, "Hooray!"
The Queen's on a camel, the Dukes, looking splendid,
By page-boys and valets and grooms are attended.

And look! The Princesses! Clarissa, Estella!
Each twirling a brightly bejewelled umbrella.
Prime Minister Pablo Portmanteau comes next,
Then General Dogsbody, purple and vexed.

The prize-winning pumpkins from all of the land,
Cheerleaders cheering, the top marching band,
Flamboyant flamingos, gymnastic giraffes,
A keg full of monkeys, a barrel of laughs.

And then through the crowd, there's a stirring, a stumble,
A wrangle, a rustle, a ripple, a rumble;
It's Hilda who's shoving with groan and with grunt
through a jungle of legs right on up to the front.

For there, riding last, on a pint-sized wee pony,
The posh palomino he calls Macaroni,
Is Rupert the princeling, he's small but he's proud -
He whirls a sword round to the cheers of the crowd.

And Hilda cheers loudly, the loudest of all,
Then turns to her neighbour, a chap who's quite tall.
"Can you please lift me up?" she asks sweet as you please,
"I need to be higher than knobbly old knees."

In a trice she's uplifted and gives a big wave
To Rupert the Prince, looking handsome and brave,
And Rupert smiles shyly at his little friend...
...and that, until next time's the finish....
..... THE END

Author Notes You may remember meeting Prince Rupert and Hilda in an earlier Gobbledegooks poem called 'Where's Rupert?'

Chapter 4
Figberry Folly's Fiesta of Fun

By kiwisteveh

In the land of the Gobbledegooks, far away,
There is magic and music and parties and play.
When the Feast of Fandangle is over and done
Then it's Figberry Folly's Fiesta of Fun.

All the Gobbledegookians (so they are called)
Are excited, enraptured, entranced and enthralled.
There are blizzards of wizards and smidgens of elves
And some shape-shifters too, though today they're themselves.

There are were-wolves (the good sort), a dragon or two,
A legion of leprechauns (That's quite a few!),
Ingenious genies and folk of that sort,
Magog the Magician, flown fresh from the court.

In the tavern that's known as 'The Gobble-De-Beers'
There is shouting and boasting and laughter and cheers.
Whose hat's the most pointy? Whose wand is the longest?
Whose potions most tasty? Whose spells are the strongest?

While out in the market-place, those with credentials
Sell 'Spells for Beginners' and 'Cauldron Essentials'
Or silk cloaks embroidered with gold crescent moons;
Perhaps a new broomstick, 'Just twenty Gobloons!'

At six there's a hush and the crowd sits in wait
For the stars of the show, better hope they're not late.
It's Figberry Folly, the White Witch of Wend
And Bumblebrum Berry, her Fairy best friend.

With a whizz and a fizz and a fuss and a frazzle,
The stage is lit up with a razz-a-ma-dazzle.
There's a great ball of light like the moon in a bubble -
Figberry flies in with her friend riding double.

Figberry Folly's Fiesta Finale
(Try saying that thrice and your tongue'll go gnarly!)
Has fireworks and flares that are phantasmegorical,
Wand-craft and wizardry new and historical.

'The Witch in the Wardrobe,' 'The Wizard in Boots,'
'The Fairy Fantasia,' 'Cat in Cahoots.'
There's 'Over the Rainbow' and 'Under the Stairs'
With Coven Cacophony's 'My Chin Has hairs.'

Til Bumblebrum solos 'My Tutu's Too Tight'
Then Figberry warbles 'The Witch's Goodnight.'
And Abracadabra, as quick as it's said,
The party's all over, they've gone off to bed.

Chapter 5
Cake of the Year

By kiwisteveh

The Kingdom of Gobbledegooks is a-flutter
With the flurry of flour, and the beating of butter;
With sugar and egg-yolks, with batter and icing,
With sifting and sprinkling and stirring and spicing.

Here's every baker, and pastry-chef too
From the wilds of Windango, the streets of Kar-Boo;
From hamlet and homestead, from castle and cottage,
Whoever can cook up a pancake or pottage.

They come bearing chocolate and cheeses and chilli,
Ingredients simple and special and silly.
In the great castle kitchen erupts a loud cheer -
They've announced the contestants for Cake of the Year.

Here's Lickladle Licorice, Wineberry Whiskit,
With Marshmallow Toasted and Blueberry Biscuit;
Flakypuff Flora and Shopfront Shenanigan,
Truffles Trelawney and Mousse Marzipanigan.

Right down at the front, at the biggest of benches,
Surrounded by silver and six serving-wenches,
Sits Crackpepper Crispin, the pastry patrician,
The sultan of shortcakes, the muffin magician.

The king of concoctions, with whipped cream, a wizard,
Who served up ice-cream cake when caught in a blizzard;
Splendiferous winner, sixteen times before,
Still up for the challenge to win one time more.

Way up at the back where the newcomers go,
There is one more contestant, her face all aglow.
'Tis Hilda, the sweetest of scullery-maids
(Remember the girl with the long golden braids)

She's worked in the kitchens for all of her life;
She has scrubbed every cook-pot and polished each knife.
She's fetched and she's carried, she's scampered and scurried,
She's simmered and seasoned and kibbled and curried.

She's learned the cook's secrets, the cute and the clever ones,
The 'Never-Tell-Anyone-Now-And-Forever' ones.
Her friends in the kitchens all love Hilda's baking,
But now, deep inside, little Hilda is quaking.

How can she compete with the best in the Kingdom,
The champion chefs of most everything-dom?
And there in the audience, cheering and loyal,
Sits handsome Prince Rupert, her favourite royal.

The flour's started flying, the battle begins;
What a scraping and banging and rattling of tins!
The ovens are heating, the temperature's rising,
And if tempers are tested -- well, it's hardly surprising.

Shopfront and Lickladle start off a wrangle,
While Truffles trips over a Marshmallow tangle.
Blueberry, Wineberry, Flaky and Mousse
Have quite a war raging -- no sign of a truce.

Now Crackpepper Crispin and Hilda compete
In the Grandest of Finals -- it's sour versus sweet;
His licorice lacework on cinnamon snow;
Her rum-bake of plum-cake, galumptious gateau.

The judges grow serious, now they look frazzled;
It's clear they're delighted, delirious, dazzled.
"We've never seen anything like it!" they cry.
"For the very first time, we have called it a tie."

Now Crackpepper smiles as he crosses the floor,
And he shakes Hilda's hand as the crowd gives a roar.
"What wonderful baking, my dear. If you please,
Will you come be my chef at 'The Cafe High Tease'?"

Then next on this day of stupendous surprises:
Prince Rupert is called on to hand out the prizes.
See Hilda's sweet blushing, her legs growing weak,
As the dashing Prince plants a big kiss on her cheek.

Now Magog the Magician cries out with a grin,
"If the smooching has finished..... let the feasting begin!"
And the Gobbledegookians give a great cheer -
Then they gobble up all of TWO Cakes of the Year.

Author Notes When the contest is over, this will become the latest chapter in my book 'The Gobbledegooks.'

Chapter 6
Dragon Surprise

By kiwisteveh

For the Gobbledegooks, in their kingdom stupendous,
The feeling is thrilling, triumphant, tremendous.
Yes, spring has arrived, baby birds are a-tweeting.
The buds are a-bursting, the wee lambs a-bleating.

On the streets of the town, see the folk in their finery,
Silken and silvery, shimmery, shinery.
Magog the Magician's all freshly new-fangled;
His robe's made of rainbows, his hat is bespangled.

And now, let us peek round the Palace's garden,
With flowers overflowing -- Oh! I do beg your pardon!
Come, quickly away. It is best we're retreating;
Prince Rupert and Hilda are ... holding a meeting.

*************************

But out in the countryside, something is stirring,
With thunderous thumping, and wheezing, and whirring.
The villagers hear a loud roaring and rumbling,
And look, half a hillside is crackling and crumbling.

Two wings are outspread like a galleon's sails,
A green body covered in dinner-plate scales;
Four feet full of claws that look prickly and poky,
Great teeth in a mouth that is fiery and smoky.

"A dragon!" cry all of the Gobbledegooks,
And they run to seek help from their Generals and Dukes,
Who hold a grand conference, where speeches are spoken
On just what to do with a dragon when woken.

Prince Rupert strides forward, cries, "I have a plan!
"I'm sure it will save us, if anything can.
That dragon's just starving, I'm willing to venture he
Hasn't been fed since the fourth or fifth century."

"Now, I have a friend at the High Tease Cafe,
Whose baking will brighten most anyone's day."
And so it's decided, with no more ado.
Young Hilda is summoned; she summons her crew.

And what do you s'pose she will cook for a dragon?
Why, five hundred cream-cakes will fill up one wagon.
There's a bushel of pastry, a cart-load of pies,
And a special concoction called 'Dragon Surprise'.

It's time for delivery; Rupert calls forth
His ten bravest men and they boldly ride north
To the spot where the dragon awaits, where they'll see
If a fire-breather really likes cakes for his tea.

Prince Rupert, not showing a morsel of fear,
Calls out to the creature, his voice strong and clear,
"Ahoy there, The Dragon, we've brought you some food.
We'd love you to taste it, if you're in the mood."

The answer comes rumbling, "Why, that's very kind.
I always wake hungry, so if you don't mind...."
The cream-cakes he gobbles, in less than a minute,
Then swallows the cart, with the pies that are in it.

The pastries are next, there are so many flavours,
The dragon grows mellow, as each one he savours.
Then Rupert produces the final surprise,
It's a dragon-shaped cake that has doughnuts for eyes.

The dragon's delighted; he shows his great bliss
By giving Prince Rupert a big smoky kiss.
The dragon and soldiers sit there on the mound.
The cake is divided; they share it around.

Then Rupert rides back to the town with the news;
He's greeted with cheering, Callays and Calloohs,
While Hilda is filled with a happiness deep -
And as for the dragon? He's gone back to sleep!

Author Notes This is the sixth poem in the Gobbledgooks series. The others are available in my portfolio in the 'book' called 'Gobbledegooks'.

Enjoy!

Chapter 7
Gobbledegooks Royal Wedding

By kiwisteveh

The Gobbledegooks, oh, the Gobbledegooks,
From peasants and pageboys to Generals and Dukes,
Are hopping with happiness, prancing with pride,
For today is the day when their Prince weds his bride.

The streets of the town are all scattered with flowers
And bunting bobs brightly from turrets and towers.
They've decked every doorway, the wides and the narrows;
The children spray glitter on starlings and sparrows.

The fairies and elflings and goblins are out,
There's a fizz in the air -- it is magic, no doubt.
Or love, you may say, for we knew all along,
They were bound to get married, for love's never wrong.

Remember, remember, I'm sure that you can,
When Hilda found Rupert, asleep in a pan.
The scullery-maid with the long golden hair
And the playful young princeling, they made a fine pair.

Fiestas, processions and parties, they had 'em,
Respected by all were the young Sir and Madam.
Together they planned how to scupper a dragon
By feeding him goodies and cakes by the wagon.

And now, at long last, the two will be married;
The King is all frazzled, the Queen's looking harried.
The kitchen's in chaos, the cook's in a fluster,
The butler is waving his best feather duster.

Yes, all round the castle, the people are hurrying,
Scampering, scuttling and scooting and scurrying.
Badrag, the brewer, brings barrels of beer;
A monkey is shining the grand chandelier.

The ceiling needs sanding, the stairs need a scrub,
The second-best tapestry's getting a rub.
And up in the ballroom, the knights are assembling
To practise their dancing -- the ladies are trembling!

At two o'clock, twenty-two trumpets start singing,
A bevy of beautiful bells are a-ringing.
Prince Rupert's arrived, his uniform glistening;
The Duke's barking orders, but no one is listening.

The Gobbledegookians give forty cheers;
The Queen dabs her cheek. Could it be there were tears?
Away in the distance a rumbling is heard,
"It's our Princess Hilda!" they're spreading the word.

Her carriage is carved from a magical tree,
And drawn by that dragon -- a wonder to see.
The door is thrown open and Hilda leaps out,
And kisses her bridegroom; the crowd give a shout.

Magog, the Magician, he marries them fast,
By waving his wand with a magical blast.
Let's skip all the speeches and other dull stuff;
She's gorgeous, he's beaming, I'm sure that's enough.

Then fireworks, confetti and streamers and flares.
"There's feasting for everyone!" Rupert declares.
The dragon gets busy, he's sizzling the roasts.
"There's nothing like dragon-breath flavour," he boasts.

Their wedding-cakes's massive; imagine the costing!
The wee ones make snowmen from all of that frosting.
And Gobbledegooks, they tuck in with a will,
For they love a good nosh when the King pays the bill.

And when all the partying's over and done,
The feasting's all finished, the stories are spun,
The monkey is hanging a sign from the rafter,
"You know they live happily forever after!"

Author Notes This is the seventh and final episode of the exuberant Gobbledegooks. We could all learn a thing or two from these free-spirited and friendly folk.

We first met Hilda and Rupert as children in Chapter 2, 'Where's Rupert', and they have popped up regularly in nearly every episode since. I always felt I couldn't pack this story away until they were married - so here it is, and maybe, like the Queen, I'll be dabbing at a tear or two.

If you've been following along, I hope you like the ending. If you are new to this, take a few minutes to go back and enjoy the earlier chapters - they're loads of fun!

Chapter 8
By Royal Pronouncement

By kiwisteveh

I'm willing to speculate you've never seen

A dragon turn cartwheels on Gog-Magog Green.

What's more, I'm surmising that you've never met

A Gobbledegook with a Sphinx for a pet.

Well chance is a fine thing! Today is the day

The Gobbledegooks will all come out to play.

And what a great cause for such high celebration,

A joyous event for the Gobblede-Nation.

Remember young Rupert, the prince who's now King

And Hilda his Queen who has made his heart sing?

Well now a new era in their life begins -

By Royal Pronouncement - The Queen Has Had Twins!

King Rupert is gleeful, the Queen is ecstatic,

Their subjects show joy in all ways acrobatic.

Witches, Magicians and Fairies and Elves

Turn wild somersaults with no thought for themselves.

The castle's festooned with bright streamers and flags

And even the mountains have lights on their crags.

While out on the streets where you wade through confetti,

You may meet a Gryphon, a Faun or a Yeti.

Unicorns frolic and Zombies cavort,

A Banshee is booked for a gig at the court.

Pixies and mermaids and Leprechauns dazzle

While children all wear themselves out to a frazzle.

The show is attended by Sultans and Czars,

By Bally-Balooshkins and Grand Zanzibars.

The High Priest of Prestwick pronounces his blessing

On A-List celebrities, all effervescing.

And so it continues, this riotous assembly

Till young folk start drooping and old folk grow trembly;

Till elephants, lions and zebras act sleepy;

Till those who've imbibed grow all mawkish and weepy.

But now they're alerted by such a great cheer -

The whisper is spreading, "They are here! They are here!"

King Rupert, Queen Hilda, the babes in their arms,

King Rupert so handsome, the Queen shows her charms.

They thank all their subjects, the sweet and the mild ones,

all creatures and preachers, the crazy and wild ones.

The Queen sings a rap song, the King gives a speech,

The wee Prince and Princess emit a loud screech.

But now the show's over, the fireworks are done,

This day of festivities, folly and fun.

With visions of happiness lodged in their heads,

The Gobbledegooks all retire to their beds.

Author Notes Those of you with long memories may remember meeting the Gobbledegooks before. For those newer to FS who have enjoyed coming across them before, please take some time to go back to the beginning of the book to follow the story of Hilda and Rupert and the crazy world of this fanciful kingdom.

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