Yesteryear Fiction

The Gifted Giant
By Ron Koppelberger


Rebel wings and the legendary wake of a haunting renown, a vulnerable size, a vivid persuasion in giant claim, by tantalizing heights of resonant wind, the breath of a fantastic argument, in tattered burlap and tarp. He weighs the wonder of a gifted giant, in flittering eyes of emerald glow and corn silk ringlets of sunshine harvest, he stands by stature and virtue of a small mountain and a gentle upward glance. He carries the riches of a burden in sated berth, by the footfalls of a giant and the gift of daring dust, mother earth in his clutch. By the hands of a tall gasp and a great grasping magic, he shapes the soils between worn palms and nimble fingers, by the evolution of whispering dirt and stone columns of exclamation. The fantasy in pause in sway and swans of ebony burnish, he descries the gift of creation by giant sighs and giant dreams of contrite deliverance. By divine earthen wills and made from clay, sand and stone fruit, the drama of the giant building a destiny through the wont of grit and soils, in what’s begat by the hopes of a secret shadow, invisible secrets and asylums in silhouette. He fashions the curve of a beauty in velvet and coy desire, for man, for love, for the desolate abandon of a lonely moment and an unforgiving separation between man and giant. The shape of a sculpted bliss in long legs and sweet smiles, in azure eyes and sweet song, the earth made whole by the caste of a woman, full circle by the wilds and the wonts of a blessing shaped by the soul of a giant, the gift of life borne by giant hands and the call for companion spirit, built by giant arms of embracing affection and the illusion of a twilight fire, by giant hands made female and given the essence of light, by giant hands the gift of love.


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I love to write and entertain the reader with a bit of insight or with a view that may not have been apparent. If I can touch the reader with a long forgotton memory or a moment of wonder then I have done my job.