pyramid (except they were carrots not humans). About 300 or so
wound themselves together, tighter and tighter, higher and higher, until
they formed a teetering semi-solid mass before me. The emergence
of this new pyramid and the endless sea of swirling orange behind it,
temporarily disorientated me, my eyes unable to focus. I closed one
eye, just to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Carrots covered the hills all
the way to the horizon. They were dancing in the trees, dancing on
the parked cars, even dancing on the portaloos. And then, in an
instant, they were still. Total, silent, stillness. My eyes re-focused to
see Muncho at my eyeline, hoisted on the carrot pyramid’s apex, with
his hand held high in the air. His signal had silenced the salady
multitude. It was then, that Muncho spoke. The carrot congregation
simultaneously mimicked his words in unison, amplifying his voice in a
harmonious choral drone.
“Joshua Daryl Carrott,
our master, friend and root,
Thank goodness Ollie brought you here,
his brain is most astute.
So hear the carrot prophecy,
a-calling from afar,
to you adorned with extra “t”,
our orange YouTube tsar!
A book as yet unwritten,
your story bold and true,
shelves stacked and readers smitten,
chart topping, plus a few.
And as the sales grow bigger,
they’ll raise a timely sum,
to build this park a figure,
for you, our carrot son.
For this the place, but not the time,
to reveal with great fanfare,
a mighty statue most sublime,
and meet your purpose there.