[Frank]

Alexander Cradled The Calf Like A Bundle Of Joy. Blankets And Baths And Bubbles And Toys:
It Played and It Splashed In The Colorful Koi: Quaking & The Quacking Of The Rubber Ducky Annoyed.
Trunk Hoisting Their Cabled Wagon: Out Of The Tundra’s Void: Like A Baby Rattle, He Mothered The Boy.
Alexander Wrote The Episode In His Diary, Remotely & Privately. Noting The Findings Of His Calf’s Anecdotal Anxiety,
"Babar, Continues To Shy Away From The Road To The Pinery. Overturning His Bowl Of Oats & Defying Me."
The Slippery Slope Is Frozen Entirely And Babar’s Eyelashes Are So Icy: They Look Like Ovals Of Diamondry.
Walking Slowly And Mightily... Overloaded With A Variety Of Precious Metals & Spices: Clove, Thyme, Cayenne, Anise.
Cargo & Chinary: Alexander Reassures Babar With Coaxing & Bribery. As The Silk Road Wove Through Society
“It’s Not Much Further.” Alexander Said, With His Compass’s Rotary Spiraling North East “go N.E!” Said His Pole, Misguidingly—
Alexander Brought Babar In From The Cold, Compliantly. . . The Rope Was Stone Cold Like Iron Freezed: Holding It, Pryingly.
“Oh, The Irony. . .” Alexandra Wrote Transcribing Thee Journey Through The Dystopian Hierarchy
Alexander The Great Was Known From The Coast Of The Arctic Sea To The Coast Of The Irish Sea
A Conquer, Who Rode, Tribally Against The Roman Dynasty: Through The Snowy Alpine In 335 BC
Dipping His Pen Into The Blue Ink: He Spoke Admiringly About Babar’s Perseverance—Ennobled & Stridently
"Babar’s Old And He’s Wisened, He. . . Has That Look In His Eye, About Him: All Knowing And Fiery."
Heroic And Giantly, Quite As The Mouse Tip Toeing Silently: Babar Trumpets, Like A Trombone: Excitingly—
He’s Gotten Cold Feet. He Won’t Ride With Me. Stubborn As A Mule: Frightened By The Rodents Rivalry.
Moping & Whining, He Followed Me Across The Moat Of The Nile Of Egypt: Ferocious And Tigery.
Poached For His Ivory
& The Tusk. . . The Bullets Rung From The Colts With The Humdrum Scope—
Facing The Conundrum . . .Months From Home: Memnon Of Rhodes Army Made His Blood Run Cold.
Flapping Dumbo Lobes, Immensely Afraid. . . As The Metal Chains Got Too Bunched Up To Hold
Alexander Saw Babar In Tremendous Pain... Each Leg Weighed, A Ton Or So: As He Led The Way To The Bungalow.
The Ground Trembled And Quaked. As The Trumpet Blowed Through The Jungles Grove: The Enemy Shaked.
Adolescent In Age. Triumphant And Grown: Babar’s Destiny Awaits Him At The Hellenic Gates. . .
The Ground Rumbles And Froze, As, Alexander Led The Way Through Western Asia & Mesopotamia. . .
Gung-Ho On Decimating The Ranks Of The Hundreds Of Foes: Stuck In The Tundra Snow: Too Heavy To Trade. . .
Alexander Levied His Strength And Muscled The Rope. . .Babar Looked Humongously Stoic: Monumental With Grace
Gentle And Great Clumsy And Bold: Barbar Dug Into The Shrubs With His Toes And Ate His Veggies With Haste
Alexander Remembered The Day—That He Helped Him Escape Through The Back Country
It Was The Last Sunday Before His Adventure Became Trying To Tempt The Faithful Animal From Out Of His Latched Cufflinks. . .
The Calf Was Grumpy. Digesting His Hay. . .While Alexander Put A Spell On The Stray Calf: Hexing His Faith
“It Was Cold Enough To Freeze The Balls Off A Brass Monkey.” He Wrote Illegibly Onto The Hemp Page
...Because The Irregular Terrain Was Jagged And Bumpy: They Steadily Skated Over The Grassy One Way. . .
The Climate Was Fear: Alexander Kept His Knife And His Spear, At His Side. . . Babar Striked From The Rear
Still Green Behind The Ears: Alexander Made Him Feel Special And Safe: With His Over Protective Gait.
Spending Miles Of Years With The Calf Defending Against The Siege: Brought His Eyes To Tears. . .
An Expression Of Grief: Babar Smiled As He Thinks His Time Is Near At Seventy Three.
Pep In His Step. . .As He Flees: His Final Steep Climb To Their Highness Regime In The Alpine Trees
And Disappear: Amidst The Threatening Steps—A Cold Send Off To The Ledge Of The Edge
Babar’s Heart Had Grown Cold From The Depths Of Neglect: They Had Crushed His Spirit

Impenetrable Step

Every Step That They Took Was Met With Distress: As Alexander Led Him From The Stench Of The Festival Tent—
In The Silhouette Of A Spectacle, Kept In A Pen: Alexander Led Him From The Shred Of The Fence...
Just 10 Years Old: The Calf Went From The Kennel To The Head Of Alexander The Great's Adventurous Quest
Forever Indebted To His Tethered Defense: Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold: Let It Injest.
Alexander Never Gave Babar The Cold Shoulder— A Friend Til The End
Before Babar Caught A Cold, He Remembered His Steps. . . Catching His Breath
Out Of Heavy Respect. . .An Elephant Never Forgets—