A DESPAIR TO REMEMBER.

A twenty-year-old college student looked his best for graduation;

Then found a secret warp to where the boy concealed infatuation:-

A giant land, where he saw Marilyn's great towering height exceeding

His own, in exponential terms. She sat upon a hillside, reading,

Beneath a shady tree's wide branches. When her fingers turned the pages,

He saw her lovely face, and thought, "Without the difference in our ages,

She might have been a happy girlfriend, willing to at least consider

A love affair with me, but at this size, I'm not the HIGHEST bidder."

The hillside flowers, which grew beside her revelry were still concealing

The lad who fell in love with her. The flowers also hid that feeling.

Her features captivated him; but were they sweet, or were they haughty?

He wasn't sure, but guessed that she was just a little over forty.

A sudden wind then blew her bookmark to the place where he'd been hiding.

She picked it up, and saw him too; and soon the boy from earth was riding,

Enclosed by her entrancing fingers. Then she heard his explanation.

She'd never heard of earth, or warps which worked some sort of transportation.

They talked a while, and as they shared the spot which still remained quite shady,

The boy enjoyed the friendship, which was emanating from the lady.

She raised him to her lips, which spoke the words of hers, which then invited

The boy to massage her big tongue. He'd never felt this much excited.

She then lay down, and opened wide her mouth, with lips now properly parted.

He lay upon her lower lip, and reached in for her tongue, and started.

And so, he'd had the benefits of such imbalance in their sizes.

When they were finished, she sat up to offer him some new surprises.

"I'm off to my late mother's house," she said, "It's just a little distance

Beyond this tree, and up the hill. I'll take you there, without resistance,

And then I plan to make for lunch a new and tasty substitution

For sandwiches. I wonder if you've guessed at your own contribution.

Your massage, which was very nice, has proved that you'll be good for gobbling."

While she announced this news, he felt his nervous captive body wobbling.

"But if you do, I'll never marry, date, or use my new diploma."

"I know, but I made up my mind, while you were curing my small noma*."

*noma = inflammation of the mouth

She carried him, and from her hand, he thought her towering beauty blended

So nicely with a mountain view, until the walking journey ended.

She reached the top, and crossed the garden, where he saw her mountain villa.

No science fiction he had watched could match this real and haunting thriller.

She licked the boy, and gulped him to her throat, where he then stopped and waited,

And came to realise something vital really needed to be stated.

Before the next gulp came, which would most definitely be quickly clinching

His destiny, he touched her throat inside her neck, and started pinching.

It made her sneeze, and soon her soft white open palm had just collected

The boy, who said, "I know size difference certainly should be respected.

Still, since you'll gulp me down this time, my secret thoughts are meant for sharing.
When you were reading on that hillside, I could not refrain from staring.

I quickly fell in love with you, but knew that such a wild endeavour

Was pointless, as your hugeness put you out of reach for me, forever.

It's just that, with my fate about to rob my heart of all composure,

I had to tell you. Now I guess your lovely mouth will give me CLOSURE."

"I'm glad you told me. After my late husband's recent disappearance

At sea, reports of drowning left me as a widow, with some clearance,

To look for love again, but I had never once anticipated

That someone so much younger could have aspirations, which are fated

To save you from a second gulping, making you my tiny lover.
Your youthful admiration has been very charming to discover."

They lived up there for several months. The boy's new life was fully centred

Around the lovely older woman, who had made him so contented.

BERRIED OR CREAM-MATED

A boy discovered a gigantic field
Of fruit, which was all too big to be peeled.
He then found a berry as large as his head,
And ate it, and then he felt properly fed.

He lay down upon the large grass there and slept,
Until in his dreams, he soon found that he kept
On hearing the voice of a lady persisting:
“Please wake up, small boy. I do hope you are listening.”

He opened his eyes and then saw that there knelt
A very large woman, where giant folks dwelt.
He watched her large mouth as she then went on speaking:
“I am a large giant, and here’s what I’m seeking:

One of my tastiest berries is missing.”
He wished he was her size, so she’d think of kissing
Himself. But he asked, “Was that nice berry yours?
I guess that you must have been somewhere indoors,

When I found the berry and needed a meal.
Forgive me, since I’d not intended to steal.”
“That’s alright, small boy. I don’t mind in the least.
I’ll take you inside and soon give you a feast.

You’re ever so thin, that your tummy must yearn
For food. One day soon you’ll help me in return.”
“I’d love to repay you,” he said, as she gathered
Him up in her fingers, and soon after lathered

Whipped cream on dessert for the boy to consume,
On top of the table in her dining room.
She kept him for days, and he liked being near her,
Until came the day, when she showed him a mirror,

And licked her sweet lips as she shock made him jump:
“Yes, little young boy, you’re becoming quite plump.”
“I liked being skinny. I cannot deny it.
So somehow I’ll need to go onto a diet.”

“But surely you know why I’ve increased your weight.
Tonight I’ll be placing you onto a plate,
With all the delicious meat that you now are.
Today I shall eat you all up. Ha ha ha!

I know you are thinking that I did neglect
To warn you of this; but what do you expect?
On first meeting, you were as thin as a bean.
If you knew I’d eat you, you would have stayed lean.

There’s always a price for a meal that seems free.
Today you shall be a nice lunch all for me.”
“But then I shall never grow up. I’ll miss out
On all of the best happiness!” he did shout,

“If I’m in your stomach, it will be a pity
That I cannot love a sweet lady as pretty
As you, of my own, that I’d grow up to meet.”
“But small boy, you’re going to be food I’ll soon eat.

You’ve had food which once was my own, my possession.
It’s now part of you. So it is my impression,
That once you’ve been swallowed, you’ll have many years
Inside me, to try to forget all your fears.”

THE JENNY BEAN

Young Peter Dale was due to stay
For all his summer holiday
At his grandma’s residence;
Went through bushes, to the fence

Of the neighbour’s tennis court.
But none of them were playing sport.
Instead he met a girl, sixteen,
Who reached her fingers, ever keen

Inside her pocket, for a lolly.
“I would like another dolly
For this dolls house painted green.
So would you like a Jenny bean?”

He ate the sweet and thanked the girl;
And then the view began to swirl
Into one wild hazy scene.
“Don’t you mean a jelly bean?” 

He asked, as he sat down to rest.
“You’re going to be my little guest,” 
She said, “I’m Jenny, and I made
The Jenny beans, before I played

With dolls, so I could shrink someone
To be my doll, and have some fun.”
Then when his vision had repaired,
Itself, young Petr sat and stared

At everything now giant sized.
“I’m Peter, and I’m quite surprised.
Your Jenny bean has made me shrink.”
He rubbed his eyes, and made one blink.

He had not adjusted yet.
Jenny knew that her tablet
Would make him shrink, and better still
Double as a sleeping pill.

Nor did he know that she had more
New developments in store.
“Come through the fence, and let me play
My dolls with you for half the day,” 

Said Jenny, but the boy said “No.
I’m too small and I need to grow.”
“Now Peter be my doll,” said Jenny.
“No,” said he, “I don’t have any

Wish to be with you, while tiny.”
Then her eyes looked big and shiny.
“I shall come and capture you,
If you will not come on through

And be my little doll now Peter.”
She smiled with lips that looked still sweeter.
Peter knew she was not kidding.
So he did her every bidding,

Until the afternoon came ‘round,
And then he heard a rumbling sound.
“That’s my tummy. I must feed
Myself with lunch. So I shall need

To stop this game with dolls we’ve had.”
“Good,” said Peter, “I am glad.”
“But why?” asked Jenny. “It was wild,
But now I’ll be a full sized child,”

Said Peter, “Since you’re done with me,
Restore my size and I shall be
Happy to come back tomorrow
As a doll for you to borrow.”

“No small boy,” said Jenny, “Listen.”
Then he saw he pink tongue glisten.
“I have no beans to give you back
Full size, but wait until I pack

These dolls away, and then I’ll set
You loose in your own place, and let
You run, while I just count the time
Before I stand and start to climb

Right over to your garden side,
To find the place where you shall hide.
Once I’ve caught you, I’ve a hunch,
That you shall make a tasty lunch

For me to eat. Now run off please.”
She soon had caught the boy with ease,
And put him on her tongue, to gloat,
And sent him down her gulping throat.

LIVING WITHIN BOUNDARIES

For a special reader .... if only it were enough to help.

In the lifetime that I’ve fantasized of tiny size and vore,

I have never had a single aspiration, where I saw

Any suicidal yearning, which would bring about my end,

If I had the chance to be a meal for teacher, date, or friend.

I’d prefer the whole experience was amicable too,

Filled with mischief, laughs and chasing games, until the hunt was through,

Then some time within the kitchen, where you’d then go on to flaunt

All the movements of your lovely mouth, with ways your tongue would taunt.

I would like to live within you, by the process known as eating,

Since digestion has the awful side effect of just defeating

Any fantasy of being gobbled down through someone’s throat,

If a stomach full of acid was a deathly painful moat.

In my fantasy, the stomach of a giantess includes

A compartment, where the shrunken swallowed man enjoys the moods

Of the giantess, as she goes on to see the world outside,

Having greeted her diminutive young chap by opening wide.

We would have a great relationship of swallowed man and she

Who had gulped him down. It wouldn’t matter, that I wasn’t free.

If I still went on inside you, I am sure that I would feel,

So much more in love than guys who get the normal dating deal.

You’d be sweet and kind and friendly, up until you took the gulp,

Which would not reduce my body to an acid-ridden pulp.

No, instead, we’d be together for all time. I’d never brood

With regrets, when I was in there, that I’d been your favourite food.

There’s no need to build an outcome dream that’s steeped in death and pain,

Even if the Devil tries his best, ‘til Jesus comes again,

Causing seeming random suffering, while he knows his time is short,

When we’ll see the dead in Christ all raised to life, no more distraught.

Every genre has its own distinctive characters and trait,

But they’re not obliged to suffer, nor inflict a fatal fate.

There’s too much of that in news reports we wish were not so real;

And the victims, broken personally deserve the chance to heal.

Yonder giantess, please come and chase me, catch me, win the hunt,

Then dispatch me to your inner self, with every mouth play stunt.

Send me riding down your throat with all your neck’s great gulping force,

Once you’ve served me at the dining table as your only course.

Let me make my home inside you, living tenant, resident

Of your science fiction tummy. I’ll have truly paid the rent,

With the journey both of us enjoy, that somehow gets me there,
As we bring to life the hopes and dreams that each of us finds rare.

You’ve already brought to life the fact that I should be devout,

In resisting mainstream limitations, rather holding out

For a giantess connection, filled with vore dates and romance.

I’ll keep hoping it will happen until I can find the chance.

FROZEN FOOD

Two young science students at uni were doing experiment work, as the day

Began to diminish the sunlight supply through the windows, and skies became grey.

"So what made you choose to learn science?" asked Megan, whose hands were with work still engaged,

The two of them just started first year, and both of the students were only teenaged.

"Exposure to fairytales left me desirous of  making myself just an inch

In height; so a lady's nice mouth could then lick me and swallow me whole, for a cinch."

But, rather than laugh, she invented a mixture of chemicals, which, if exact,

Would do what he wanted, if given a period of 25 years to react.

She showed him where she planned to live when she'd bought it and said, "In the future, come seek

Me out , but the uni hall's calling us down for a friendly dance, cheek touching cheek."

At Christmas, he sent her a card, "from full-sized me," and wondered what her card would say.

"I wish I could shrink you and eat you," she wrote, "But enjoy Christmas time anyway."

Not willing to spend all those years in long waiting, he placed himself into deep freeze,

Suspending his aging, while he slept it off, and the 25 years passed with ease.

The ice chamber timer went off in the future. He woke up, and found her address.

The phone book helped him pay a visit one morning, in hopes that his size would be less.

Now older, still willing, she took him to lunch, now in awe that her friend was 18.

"I guess you'll taste nicer, still youthful," she said, with a smile, which looked proudly serene.

Her formula worked, and the boy was reduced, and they went to a nice picnic spot,

Where Megan sat down and soon happily gobbled the Tom Thumb the real world forgot.

SOMEONE GROWN OR THE OTHER SHRUNKEN?

Peter and sweet lovely Jennifer Winchance

Played in his grandma’s garden like infants.

She was his beautiful babysitter.
The young boy was joyful about having met her.

One day she brought water pistols as present, 
And said, “Let us play, for the weather is pleasant.
I hope you enjoy having our pistol fight,
And I shall cook you for supper tonight.”

“You mustn’t,” said Peter, “And I’m not allowed
To go out at night.” Then the sweet lady bowed,
And kissed Peter’s cheek, and said, “Leave that to me.
I’ll have you for supper. You just wait and see.”

When Grandma tucked him in, she said, “Sleep well,” 
And left him in darkness, and he soon fell
Into a sleep. Then he soonafter woke,
And said, “Is this real or some fantastic joke?”

He lay in pavlova as tall as his chin,
Inside an oven, with light shining in,
From its big window. He stared out beyond
And saw a great kitchen, where giants belonged.

Then into the kitchen came Jenny with glee,
Now drinking a warm cup of nice herbal tea.
She put the tea down and then opened the door
(The oven’s) to peek in and gladly adore

The boy, who said nothing at first, from the shock.
“Peter, I’m keeping my eyes on the clock.
You’ll warm up and cook, but without being burned.”
“Alright,” said the boy, “I agree that I’ve learned

That you really meant what you said when you kissed me.
Now can you explain this unusual mystery?
So are you a giant, or am I reduced?”
“Don’t worry about that. You need to get used

To being my supper, said Jennifer, licking
Her lips, as he heard her own oven clock ticking.
“It won’t be long now. So just patiently wait.
I’ll soon serve you up on my best china plate,”

Said Jenny, and shut him inside, as she stood,
And checked that the table was laid, and said, “Good.”
She sat down in front of the oven, to beam
At Peter, whose neck was now covered in cream.

So soon he was cooked, and she ate the pavlova
Around him, and said, “It will soon be all over
For you little Peter. Now as my tongue brushes
Against your nice meat, I am sure you’ll taste luscious.

The gobbling down process will not take too long,
So think of my tongue as a soft dinner gong.”
Her hand closed around him, and gave him a lift
To mouth, where the gulping of Peter was swift.

THE MOON ON SCRABBLE HILL

There was a Maid on Scrabble Hill,

And if not dead, she lives there still.

She grew so tall, she reached the sky,

And on the Moon, hung clothes to dry.

Now that was when the Moon was down,

For Scrabble Hill was out of town,

Where skies were never hot, nor wet,

Nor cold from dawn until sunset.

She’d far outgrown her large abode,

And slept on grass (where travellers rode),

Enjoying each nocturnal dream,

And washed her clothing in the stream.

When word got out: she needed space,

The townsfolk would avoid her place,

Until a lad of five foot three

Did wander out one day to see.

He met the maiden standing tall,

And saw her fetching down her shawl,

Which had by then completely dried

Upon the moon. It looked so wide.

He asked her what she chose to do

For food. She showed how berries grew

To giant size as well, to feed

Her mouth and tummy’s every need.

“But Maiden, do you not recall

The meat you ate, when you were small?”

He asked, “And since I’m made of meat,

Would you think I’d be nice to eat?”

She picked him up and placed him in

Her mouth, and then she did begin

To slide him from the moist pink moat,

To somewhere in her dainty throat.

But then she gave a gentle cough,

And used her skirt to dry him off.

“You would be nice to swallow dry,”

She said, “But might I ask you why?”

“Because you have such friendly eyes,

And I adore your giant size,”

He said, “But since you’d never feel

The same, I’d like to be a meal.”

“But tell me why would you presume,

That I would only have the room

Within my stomach, not my heart,

For you?” she said, like living art.

“Because I’m smaller than your tongue,

And lest I end up simply flung

Away, discarded like old pulp,”

He said, “I’d rather face your gulp.”

“It’s sweet of you to so provide

Yourself, but I would be your bride,”

She said, and so they chose to court,

Since she was such a lovely sort.

With all the world beyond to tour,

The boy decided life was pure

On Scrabble Hill with his tall maid,

And so for all his life, he stayed.

A girl his own size wandered by,

And said, “Since I am not so high,

Perhaps you’d like to leave with me

At night, and then I’ll set you free.”

“But I’m not trapped,” the lad assured

The girl, “I know that I was bored

With any normal girl, until

I found the Maid of Scrabble Hill.

And that is why I kept the gate

Forever closed on any date

I might have had, before I found

Her lips that high above the ground.”

The Maid soon learned that tasty cheese

Made up the moon, and chose to please

Herself, by eating all that grew,

Since it would instantly renew.

Perhaps the cow that made the leap

Got stuck up there, and, on the cheap,

Supplied the moon with dairy-light

For she who had attained such height.

The cheese supply and washing line

Was hers ‘til 1969,

When someone who was called Armstrong

Turned up and brought a flag along.

And so, with husband in her keep,

The Maid then took a mighty leap

From earth to Jupiter, and found

She fit much better on its ground.

So Armstrong found a vacant lot.

The moral is: Should you besot

Yourself with huge hair, slightly curled,

She’ll have you in another world.

DIMENSION OF TRUST

One young scientist soon got to work and managed to invent

A dimensional projector, which would open up the field

Of a thousand brand new places, now, to which he could be sent,

With the spinsters in those realms, when he arrived, at last revealed.

Then he started his projector, stood in front and let it fire.

Unperfected, it reduced his size, and failed to just transmit

Him to somewhere else, where he could seek and court his heart’s desire.

So he went in search of little folk, to make the best of it.

Well he never found some little folk, who probably don’t exist;

But a full sized woman spotted him, and put him in a cage,

As a pet. When he explained the truth, she’d happily persist

With his capture, since his old life was an unconsidered stage.

She would leave him in the sink each day, so he could have a bath,

With no chance to reach the floor and freedom, while she left the room.

The projector’s imperfection had a second aftermath.

It wore off, which liberated him from years of captive gloom.

“That’s alright,” he thought, “I’ll do more work, and this time I will test

The projector on a figurine, until it works for sure.

When it did, he sent himself back into days of suit and vest

And cravats: the past, where he might find a girl who’d lived before.

In a dance hall, he soon met a girl. They caught each other’s eyes.

Then they dated in his past, her present, glad, week after week;

‘Til he learned about her place in history, quite a bad surprise.

She’d begun a rather nasty group, which in his time would peak.

So, mismatched, he fled to present day, and tried a universe,

Which was parallel to his, and met the girl of all his dreams.

Shyness made him quite reluctant to approach her. He’d rehearse

What he’d say; but words would lose the game in oft-defeated teams.

When he finally found the nerve to walk within her line of sight,

She then acted like she knew him, and he asked her for a date.

“Well of course!” she laughed, “We’ve been together, since that lovely night,

When you saved me on the ice and held my hand and helped me skate.”

Then the penny dropped, that she already loved his counterpart;

And he saw that his old problems had their latest parallel,

In the fact that girls he liked were spoken for, before he’d start.

He retreated from the chance to meet his double;- just as well.

Since the past was set in stone and let him down, he would project

To the future, where the chapter of each day was his to write.

But the girl he liked was only all too willing to reject

His old fashioned tastes and interests, with her future world hindsight.

Then he found a world of giants, with its giant kiss appeal;

But the giantess he met would entertain her own ideas,

That, once warmed up in her oven, he would make a tasty meal,

Swallowed whole, not bitten, just to slightly ease his newfound fears.

While still sliding down her throat, he then projected home once more,
And considered all the disappointing efforts he had made.

Then, without the slightest action on his part, the man was thrust

Into romance like he’d never seen in any other realm.

In the tiniest speck of quite miniscule dust,

Were a whole race of Whos with a tiny size just

Like electrons, where they were the smallest iotas.

Elections were won by diminutive voters.

But then, once they’d been saved by a grey elephant,

From a boiling, they all needed deodorant,

As the pot’s near proximity had made them sweat.

But their troubles were over, and they calmed down yet.

Well at least, most calmed down, but a lad with a brain

Quite unequalled, experienced ongoing strain.

He could hardly be senile, while still in his prime.

So why was his whole life narrated in rhyme?

It was true. He had somehow tuned into a voice,

Which described all his actions, as if he’d no choice.

He had listened as all of his life was narrated,

In much poetry, thinking, “My future’s dictated.”

Then he looked at his neighbours, with chills in his bones.

Like himself, they resembled the art of Chuck Jones.

As he struggled to shake what was in his mind loose,

He remained the sole Who, that had heard Dr Seuss!

There were times, when the Doctor’s mind wandered elsewhere,

And the little Who lad found the whole thing unfair.

He could still hear an oratory, highly involved,

Of a buttered bread battle, not ever resolved.

As he already knew, from their time near the pot,

This mysterious voice told the wackiest plot,

Every time that it spoke; and the Little Who knew,

That the Grinch was no safer than Roald Dahl’s Rhyme Stew.

So, aware of his tininess, he stopped to think:

It was time for appointments with Who’s only shrink.

While in therapy, Little Who told what he’d heard,

But then even their sessions became rhyming word.

The psychiatrist told him, “No ifs and no buts.

My clear diagnosis is: You’ve gone quite nuts.

I don’t know if you’ve drunk of too many a flagon;

But right now I shall send for the Who paddy wagon.”

So the Who was then placed in a Who funny farm,

Just in case his assertions may do further harm,

To himself or to others, as no-one believed

That he’d heard Doctor Seuss. They just thought him deceived.

But when Horton grew old and decidedly lazy,

His old duties passed on, to a grown adult Mayzie,

Who had wondered why she had a flower on her head.

Now the dust speck Who planet was her charge instead.

So the tiniest planet was able to settle

In the safest of places: a single flower petal

On Miss Daisy-Head Mayzie’s quite floral head piece.

For as long as she lived, they’d acquired a new lease.

Institutionalized, Little Who sorely protested;

But their doctors believed that the poor lad had jested

Far too often in youth and become quite unhinged.

In the smallest of nut houses, Little Who whinged.

Then the tiny Observer who’d erstwhile contacted

Their first rescuer, Horton, took stock and then acted.

By the use of devices, he contacted Mayzie,

And then learned things that proved Little Who wasn’t crazy.

Back when Mayzie was teenaged, and oh so endearing,

Her developing eardrums had also been hearing

What the good Doctor spoke in his rhymed publication.

She had not faced her own institutionalization.

Mayzie’s silence protected her from the straight jacket.

But the Doctor’s narration became quite a racket,

Up until the time came, when he also passed on,

Just like Horton; and then all the light really shone.

When the Whos learned all this, they so quickly released

Little Who from the rubber room. Name calling ceased;

For both Mayzie and Little Who shared a rare gift

They could use, with the dust speck no longer adrift.

For they now heard each other, without the device

That Observer had used. Then there came winter’s ice.

While the Whos took to skating, or riding toboggan,

Their entire world continued, atop Mayzie’s noggin.

Back at home, Little Who spoke, forever without,

Any need for his vocals to raise to a shout.

Mayzie heard everything he orated quite clearly,

Just as he did, when she spoke. He liked her voice dearly.

So they courted, just verbally. Size would prohibit

Any chances for face-to-face dating exhibit.

Lovely Mayzie had hope, each time he would contact her,

That they’d simply rely on the Doctor Seuss factor.

Although Mayzie’s and Little Who’s talented ears

Could no longer hear Seuss, who’d used up all his years

On the earth as a writer, now snug in his grave,

They believed some new poet was willing to rave.

As the pair of them hoped that they’d somehow go steady,

And they whispered more sweet nothings, just to be ready

For the chance when their first proper date would begin,

Perhaps that’s where this author (myself) would come in.

Would the flower topped lady and well hearing Who

Tune their ears into hearing my poetry too?

If they did, could I think of a way to surmount

Their size barrier? That needs more verses to count.

I could think of solutions, and then make them oral,

But ‘though each Doctor Seuss tale, contained a weird moral,

Some of them left their last pages quite open ended.

On this fact then, a size challenged marriage depended.

With my readers now scraping what’s under the barrel,

They’re all dumping this yarn, to go read Lewis Carroll,

Whose intelligent verses were not so off tap.

And since I couldn’t blame them, I’ll go take a nap.

But before my new readers become slightly bored,

With the way a long dead writer’s works were explored,

They’ll concede, that no matter how big or how small

These two are, their adventures had breached the Fourth Wall.

Out on Doctor Shrinker’s island, Gordie, BJ, also Brad

Faced the greatest shrunken challenge that those three had ever had.

Doctor Shrinker captured Gordie, while his sister (that’s BJ)

Looked on helplessly, concealed, while Hugo carried him away.

Then the villains called a buyer who would pay right through the nose

For a Shrinkie, not concerned with where the shrink ray gadget goes.

Miss Lightfingers was a would-be thief, who took the Doc’s advice,

That a bank was easily burgled with a boy the size of mice.

Gordie found himself shipped off with her, and taken to a bank.

“If you don’t sneak in and bring me cash, my full sized hand will spank

Your small body, little boy,” she said, “Now go and make the hit.”

Gordie didn’t have a choice, but then his mind’s light bulb was lit.

“If I get you lots of money, will you use a bit to buy

Doctor Shrinker’s ray and make me once again some five foot high?”

Gordie asked. She said, “I’ll do it, if the take is in the range,

That the purchase price of shrinking ray (to me) will be small change.”

It was in the third bank Gordie hit, that someone lay in wait,

Having used the only bank not robbed as last remaining bait.

He was caught by super heroines, whose names were Dyna Girl

And Electra Woman. Gordie thought he’d give the truth a whirl.

He explained the situation. Then the women snuck around,

Snagged his boss, and told him he had inadvertently just found

Some assistance with the problem thought up by the brothers Krofft.

They went sailing to the island in a boat that stayed aloft.

Sneaking up, they heard the other Shrinkies venting quite a rage,

While the scientist and henchman put them back inside a cage,

Having captured them once more. Electra Woman took her cue

Straight from Gordie’s tips, and worked out just exactly what to do.

When the Doctor was within the range of his own shrinking ray,

She threw switches from concealment, in her own distinguished way,

With her wrist device’s traction beam, which she’d used in the past,

To retrieve her partner’s own device, with one precise aimed blast.

With the Doctor shrunk they captured midget Hugo with such ease,

Shrank him down as well, and caged them both forever, since the sleaze

In the Doctor’s mind could always reinvent the ray from scratch,

If he wasn’t well incarcerated, like the one’s he’d catch.

Then the super heroes confiscated his ill-used machine,

And prepared to use it in reverse on every shrunken teen.

They made BJ full-sized first, then Gordie, then prepared for Brad.

“But you’re cute like that,” said BJ, “Can’t you stay a tiny lad?”

“In your hands, instead of Shrinker’s, I’d be happy staying shrunk,”

Brad replied, and so a toast to their relationship was drunk.

Since both segments of the show need happy endings made to rate,

Dyna Girl was keen on Gordie, and those two began to date.

With the heroinnes’ headquarters being where the ray was housed,

Dyna Girl made one suggestion, which kept Gordie quite aroused.

She would shrink him and conceal him in a pocket of her suit,

That she stitched, so he could help at times, to bear Houdini’s fruit.

Undetected by their enemies, the shrunken boy would aid

Their escapes. The tiny wild card, which could secretly be played,

When they needed it, the unsung third new member of the team,

Whose clandestine size augmented every great Electra beam.

On a date, while shrunken, Gordie was preparing for a kiss

From the full-sized Dyna Girl, whose big full lips began to miss.

So he fell inside her mouth, and heard her laugh, as he did slide

Off her tongue and down the throat of she whom he hoped for his bride.

Then she coughed, until he came back up, and very gently slid

Gordie from her tongue to hand and said, “I guess I scared you, kid.

I got carried quite away with fun, but good guys shouldn’t eat

Their admirers.” Thus went on a team that no bad guy could beat.

I awoke to my alarm clock, switched it off and showered and shaved,

Had some breakfast in a hurry, so that more time could be saved.

Then I caught the early train, and went about some best made schemes,

Looked up schedules for the train trip back, with thoughts in daytime dreams.

I could not have known that timetables would soon be obsolete,

When I boarded an express and took an upstairs window seat.

Half way home, the sky seemed brighter, and the first of many things

That I saw that afternoon were heaven’s soldiers’ using wings.

Then a troop of airborn angels quickly flew down from the sky,

And I thought of those I couldn’t reach, with no more need to try.

In a moment, they would realise that the prophecies I’d shared

Were a warning of this day. If they had listened, they’d be spared.

Then I floated from my seat, along with others who would pass

(Now identified as fellow Christians) through the State Rail glass

Of the window of the train, and looking down, would start to rise,

On their way to meet the Lord in heaven, far beyond the skies.

Looking down, I noticed others leave the footpaths, start to drift

Up beside me, as the driving power of God began to lift

Every Christian, leaving unbelievers panicced on the ground.

This would prove the ‘secret rapture’ was theology unsound.

Now with 20/20 vision, thinking back to shower and shave,

I could also see the gaping hole in every Christian’s grave,

Which had opened up ahead of my new transit plane-free flight;

So God’s people from the past were now ahead and gaining height.

Just as it had been predicted, those who died before were first

To be headed for the kingdom where they’d never know a thirst.

I could visualize disciples (John and Peter) in ascent,

Speculating on how many years (since their time) had been spent.

Looking down again, I saw the angels grimly start to reap

All initial deaths of those who chose to make the Spirit weep;

Those who never turned to Jesus, those who chose to buck the call

To conversion. In the billions, they would now begin to fall.

Yet that somehow didn’t trouble me. The final stage of change

(Transformation into glory) took my thoughts beyond the range

Of a pointless grief of those now left behind. My mental sins

Tempted me no more, as I saw how eternity begins.

Earth was further still behind me, and a new view did unfold

Of the largest perfect city, paved with streets of shiny gold.

Its creator met me at the gates. He’d just made me anew,

So the one He’d long since tossed out couldn’t alter me askew.

When the ones, (who by his Son’s atonement) had been judged all pure,

Had arrived, He took us all around and held the real grand tour.

In the meantime, being everywhere, He took the evil one

To a pit of chains, to spend some time away from light of sun.

In the darkness, he would contemplate 6000 years of sin

(By temptation and infliction), when he knew he couldn’t win.

Some would think it was too good for him, but he would never learn,

Only dread the final day, when he would very briefly burn.

For a 1000 years, God left him there, while gladly guiding us

On our sinless new existence, free of worry, fear or fuss.

Then God briefly turned the Devil loose, and raised his fallen troops,

So that one more time he’d make them leap through all his evil hoops.

We’d had all of that millenium to fully disconnect

From our memories of the ones we’d known who’d chosen to reject

Jesus Christ as Lord and Saviour. None of us would now complain

As the Devil learned he’d done it all with not a thing to gain.

We were taken to a Holy city, shielded from the war,

Which would shortly start. Through prophecy we knew the final score.

Having let them see futility by going through the throes,

With a fire of speed and mercy, God wiped out His many foes.

He took Satan out to die, and with eternal cleansing fire,

Burned the earth away to nothing but the city, to inspire

Us to start again, untainted, as He went to recreate

Earth anew, like Eden should have been, before our fallen state.

We saw brand new grassy hills and fields; and in between the seas,

Brand new continents of different shapes, with full grown shady trees.

We would live forever, never knowing age or death or stress.

That’s a future made for anyone who reads this and says “yes.”