The Tale of the Mountain Fortress

This adventure was poem-worthy.  And yes, I am extremely lame.

Twas a Fine Day in the city of Cheongju
grey skies, but signalling signs of blue.
In the soft morning light Lucci and I
Decide the Mountain Fortress to climb.

A taxi we wave and soon we are
at the foot of the mountain in a hondai car
we hand the money and grab our bags
trudging ahead other hikers we pass

Up and up the mountain trail climbs
stairs of wood give especially hard times
to old Tedd who barely lifted himself
this summer, but kept glued to the drama couch.

After forty minutes of upward spiral
we see the fortress extending as if viral
weaving and growing down rolling hills
the historical wall sends my heart thrills

Imagine the scene in years past
hundreds of people upward pressed
gritting and struggling to scale the wall
the enemy army battle cries call

Arrows and spears thwart their attack
after hours of fighting their beaten back
the victors stand atop their fortress
problem solved no more distress

But now the scene is quite serene
hikers and couples meander and seem
to enjoy the tranquility of a relic of war
a field trip place for young children to bore.

But Lucci and I in awe wind around,
we circle the fortress and start heading down
"I know the way home," Lucci says.
So onward we march, forward we press.

Around the mountain we begin to move,

A bridge we cross that shakes and grooves

But fear remains far from our minds

“To Cheongju!” says Lucci, “CAW!” I reply.

 

Up we move and down as well

“Just over this ridge! I know it well.”

A rope dangles and we scale sheer cliff

Brambles reach and scratch my midriff

 

A couple we find on a small peak.

“To Cheongju!” we yell although it grows weak.

We ask, (just to be safe!), if this is the way

“Follow the trail around!” (In Korean) they say.

 

We press onward and follow the trail

But suddenly, the fickle thing, it decides to bail…

And we are standing on a tree-dotted hill side,

Wondering if perhaps we should have stayed inside.

 

We keep moving on, cutting through shrubs,

The trail remains hidden, but we move on because

The day is growing later and work we must attend!

We charge on full-throttle this lostness to mend.

 

Soon we are at a small, rambling creek,

No trail in front, of backtracking we don’t speak.

We plunge into the water and start following it down

From rock to rock we skip, splashing around.

 

We follow the stream at a good pace, on and on,

And on and on and on and on and on and on and on

Several times in excitement we call “Trail!”

And jump from the water to find nothing at all…

 

At long last the soft roar of traffic fills our ears

So excited we are our eyes fill with tears

But before us arises the toughest part of trail

Brambles, thorns, and vines make us wail

 

Our arms are scratched, blood running down

As we plunge forward through water our pulses pound  

“A little bit further” I call as I see the road

But, alas, forsooth, why couldn’t they have mowed?

 

My chest is bound in snake-like vines,

Lucci is behind me ensnared and whines:

“Tell my mother I love her! It’s over now!”

But the vines begin snapping as I plow

 

Onward to the sound of coming cars

And at last! I burst from the vine shaped bars

Spilling over the retaining wall,

I land on a road and give a call

 

“We’re out! We’re out! Let’s go!”

And soon Lucci is beside me feeling so

Relieved and light that we are back to normal

But a sudden realization ends the jovial

 

Feeling as we question: “Where are we?”

And look around to unknown country.

Four-letter words come to mind

But we look at the positives and find

 

That we at least are back to civilization

Perhaps a cab can take us to our destination.

So we march forward along the road

Cars swerve and we pray and hope

 

That we might make it back to our apartment

But suddenly we see a car from heaven sent.

It pulls over and motions to us

“Cheongju,” Lucci motions, accents and grunts.

 

The driver smiles and motions in

We fall inside and feel at last we win

Some small victory in this fortress tale

As he slams the gas and the engine wails

 

We make it back to the city of Cheongju

To celebrate we enjoy some tofu stew

And at the last when all is said and done

We decide at least it’s a tale to tell our sons.

 

“Be wary of Sang Dong San Song” we’ll say

“It was a mysterious place in your father’s day.”

Then the whole long tale we’ll begin to spin

With exaggerations and a better end

 

That involves us fighting a gang of holligans

Or something else to make us feel cool again.

But truth be told it was a fun adventure.

Minus exaggerations and future censure.