The Last Moonicorn, Part Three of Six

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In a factory,

under the cold Martian skies

Our heroes are soon

to be made into pies!


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THE THIRD SLICE

(in which some Martians prepare to bake a pie)

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The Bakery stank of the stenches of death

and the furnace’s black choking smoke stole her breath

as the Star Girl was mauled by the Martians behind her

and marched to the maw of the gobbling grinder.

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And so it appeared that the Martians would test

that their pie-pulping process was still at its best:

to ensure that no Moonicorn meat went to waste

they would serve up a Star Girl hors d'oeuvre, for the taste!

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Then a shove from above made her stumble beneath,

and with terror she screamed, tumbling into the teeth

of the mashing machine!—but before she got mangled

the rope at her throat tugged tight taut and she dangled!

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Then, strangling, the Star Girl grabbed fast for her noose,

and scrabbled all three of her arms to pull loose,

and she grasped at the rope as it dragged her up high,

quite bamboozled at how she’d escaped being pie.

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But emerging she saw that hooked round her friend’s horn

wound the end of her rope, and that wild Moonicorn

(as he tossed and he snorted and struck with his feet)

had beaten the Martians back into retreat.

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Then, flinging his friend to his back with a ROAR!,

the Moonicorn CRASHED from the slaughterhouse floor,

and he flashed like a flame, Star Girl clinging astride!

(Many Martians were maimed as he smashed them aside!)

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And they sped to their saucer! Took off! Were up high!

... before one of the Martians had figured out why

the ship-maintenance Martian (the fuddy old fool)

had forgotten to fill up their rockets with fuel.

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And so, without incident, Deimos arrived.

Could his instincts be true? Could one more have survived?

As the saucer’s hatch popped, could his eyes be deceived?

As he stepped out, he stopped ... and then, OH, HE BELIEVED!

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—for awaiting their craft, on a low lunar rise,

was a MOONICORN MARE, with such beautiful eyes,

and a coat of spun silver, with lavender gloss;

and her mane was of mother-of-pearl candyfloss.

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So the Star Girl looked on from her spacesaucer door,

as the Moonicorns whinnied, like never before,

and they pranced, and they danced, and the Moonicorn knew

he was not the Last Moonicorn, for they were TWO!

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--> to The Last Moonicorn, Part Four of Six

<-- to The Last Moonicorn, Part Two of Six