The Rumble in the Jungle

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Courtesy of N.G

Courtesy of N.G

 

Deep in the jungle, in the heart of it, there stood Rigamaroo
His mind was in a whirl and twirl, he didn’t know what to do.

Too much trouble, hubble bubble, shuffle and kerfuffle
Such was life, thought he, poor me! Rock bottom, in a scuffle.

Can’t think straight, caught in a tangle, feeling drab, dull and dead
Swirling, twirling, swooshing, whooshing, yikes, ’twas a bee buzz in his head.

The stress, alas, was too much for him, he was down, deep in a jumble
Frazzled, boggled, puzzled, oh gosh, what a humongous muddle!

All the worrying, the fretting, the doubting, oodles doom and gloom
His mind, no good.. Should he go left? Or, right? He didn’t know what to do.

Glum-faced, puckered lips, furrowed brows – peace, was what he yearned for
Yet, still, along the winding path he trudged; a figure, hunched…quite sore.

What was his problem? His quandary? His quantum of irrationality?
Why go in the jungle, with its creepers and twines? It made no sensibility.

But, Rigamaroo just toddled and hobbled, without an end in sight
He turned right, then, he turned left. Next, left and, then, again, right.

Bewildered, befuddled…..now left on his own – I ask ye, was poor chappie okay?
No, methinks, not. For ’tis best to have a confidante, to share, discuss, to have your say.

As when you’re open to discussion…a kindly ear, a gentle embrace, or just a simple pat on the hand
Boosts one’s morale and, the self esteem, enhances – ah, so that is why it’s called a healing hand!

Right? Are you? Really, right? Rigamaroo questioned me..
Since now he felt so much better, happy, healthy and carefree.

My reply was…

“Well, I am your Guardian Angel, my duty is to care,
“Though, of course, you cannot see me, but, I am ever there.”

 

Maloquacious © 2015

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