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GALLAMAZZAAR

 

In the far off land of Gallamazzaar

Little green men

Drove little green cars,

With little green wives

And little green lives,

In the far off land of Gallamazzaar.

 

In the far off land of Pallamazzaar

Little pink men

Drove little pink cars,

With little pink wives

And little pink lives,

In the far off land of Pallamazzaar

 

In the far off land of Gallamazzaar

The king cast his eye overseas.

He saw mountains topped in candy pink

Lined by magenta trees.

The magenta trees had tea-rose leaves

That glinted in a cherry sun,

While in between those pink-leaved trees

Fuchsia streams did run.

The fuchsia streams led through the dales

Of salmon pink and peach,

And the dales themselves swept pinkly down

Onto a taffy beach.

And at the taffy beach

Lay a village in the sun

With rosewood floors and rosewood walls

And roofs of bubblegum.

The king in greenest envy

Swept his eye across this land

And thought how lovely it would be

To dance on taffy sand.

 

In the far off land of Pallamazzaar

The king cast his eye overseas.

He saw mountains topped in apple green

Lined by chartreuse trees.

The chartreuse trees had lime green leaves

That glinted in an emerald sun,

While in between those green-leaved trees

Mantis streams did run.

The mantis streams led through the dales

Of mint and phthalo green,

And the dales themselves swept greenly down

Onto a moss green beach.

And at the moss green beach

Lay a village in the sun

With malachite floors and malachite walls

And roofs of greengage plum.

The king in pinkest envy

Swept his eye across this land

And thought how lovely it would be

To dance on moss green sand.

 

In the far off land of Gallamazzaar

The king prepared his fleet,

Resplendent all in sea foam green,

With sails of freekeh wheat.

They set out on the mantis sea,

The emerald sun on high,

And strove towards the small pink cove

That caught the kingly eye.

 

In the far off land of Pallamazzaar

The king prepared his fleet,

Resplendent all in Spanish pink

With sails of celosia wheat.

They set out on the fuchsia sea,

The cherry sun on high,

And strove towards the small green cove

That caught the kingly eye.

 

So on they sailed through pink and green,

Towards horizons never seen,

With hope in heart

Of change to be,

Of better pinks and better greens.

 

Day in, day out,

Through dusk and dawn,

Each windblown ship

Sailed slowly on,

Until one day,

At breaking light,

They saw confusion in the skies

As pink and green combined their hues

And turned into a navy blue.

The sea below them curled and swirled

As pink and green began to merge,

Until all members of the crews

Saw the sea was turquoise blue.

 

This was the equator,

The middle of the world,

Where all those separate colours

Came together in a whirl.

 

Cautiously approaching,

The two kings saw each other,

Then each king shouted loudly,

‘Good God! That’s my brother!’

 

‘He may be pink,’

 

‘He may be green,’

 

‘He may be any colour,

 

But I can tell you

Here and now,

That that’s my long-lost brother!’

 

It seems that many years ago,

When they were babes new born,

The ship in which they travelled

Sailed into a storm.

The last act of their parents

Was to give each child away

To a member of the crew

In the hope that they'd escape.

The crewmen fought to save the lives

Of the babes held in their arms,

But in the fury of the storm

The men were torn apart.

 

Each man, each babe, floated for days

Alone on the unkind sea,

Until at last, worlds apart,

They landed on

A beach.

The sailors built a makeshift house

Of wood from beachside trees,

Until they had at last a home,

One pink, the other green.

 

And as the lads ate different foods,

Spent time in different suns,

Those things that made them brothers,

Set them both apart.

Each became a king

Of the land in which they grew,

And they lost every memory

Of the family they once knew.

They scanned the bland horizon

Each and every day,

Looking for what, they knew not,

But hoping anyway.

And as they gazed

Across the waves

They knew what they had sought;

It wasn’t land or coloured sands,

But the family they had lost.

 

So now pink is pink and green is green

And they’re happy to be whatever they be.

No longer do kings gaze at the sea

Looking for something that cannot be seen.

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