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John's Big Story...
John's journalistic peers,
respected all his work.
Although still young in years,
from danger he'd not shirk.

His latest escapade,
kidnapping in a nation.
It seemed he might have paid,
with poor evaluation.

Two weeks, not heard or seen,
John seemed to disappear.
Folks knew where he had been,
where now though, wasn't clear...


Dense jungle of Peru,
was where John could be found.
Gun wielding kidnap crew,
took John and went to ground.

'So much you think you know,'
the leader screamed at John.
'We'll let you die real slow,
till from our lives you've gone.'

John tethered to a tree,
bravely forced a smile.
'I'm only twenty three,
that could take a while...'

The gang could not release,
the investigative mole.
John knew that the police,
were on the gang's payroll.


One day whilst moving camp,
John then made his play.
Complaining first of cramp,
then up and ran away...

His old guard he'd laid flat,
with a lump of wood.
Then like a jungle cat,
he'd moved as best he could.

As gun fire sprayed around,
dense jungle undergrowth.
John clearly heard the sound,
the leader swore an oath...

Most men would now be weak,
John's fitness was first rate.
A way out he would seek,
this story could not wait.


Waterfall's thunderous roar,
could he this, survive?
It scared John to the core,
but still he had to dive.

In shimmering colours wet,
amongst the flowing spray.
He could not let fear get,
in progress's way.

Through mist and foam he sunk,
at speed still going down.
So much he felt he'd drunk,
he prayed he wouldn't drown.

Downstream, instead of death,
John could taste fresh air.
Through agonising breath,
his chances were now fair.

He floated more than swam,
till he caught the bank.
A natural log jam,
was what he had to thank.

On dry land once again,
morale was on a high.
John ignored the pain,
as run and walk, he'd try...


A shanty town ahead,
there had to be a phone.
He hoped too, to get fed,
no longer now alone.

Amazed, the people stared,
John laughed till it hurt.
Till now he hadn't cared,
he only wore a shirt...


Safely whisked away,
by trusted US troops.
'With us you'll be okay,
no jumping thro' no hoops...'

* * *

Written for:

FOS – Weekly Form
Host: Bronze Dragon
Form: Narrative

Catch the Soaring Star
Host: Doc_Dyr
Phrase: laughed till it hurt

Follow the Dream
Host: Jollynoblefrog
Phrase: in shimmering colours

By Tomfoollery

© 2010 Tomfoollery (All rights reserved)


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This Poem is part of a Challenge: FOS - Weekly Form: Narrative Poem (challenge has been closed)

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