Jack Prelutsky - The Swamps of Sleethe: Poems from Beyond the Solar System

THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF

Text copyright 2009 by Jack Prelutsky
Illustrations copyright 2009 by Jimmy Pickering

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Childrens Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Prelutsky, Jack.
The swamps of Sleethe : poems from beyond the solar system / by Jack Prelutsky; illustrated by Jimmy Pickering. 1st ed.
p. cm.
eISBN: 978-0-375-98631-4
pISBN: 978-0-375-84674-8

[1. Extrasolar planetsJuvenile poetry. 2. Childrens poetry, American.] I. Pickering, Jimmy, ill. II. Title.
PS3566.R36S926 2008
811.54dc22
2008006530

The illustrations in this book were created using mixed media.

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v3.1

Each of the planet names marked with an asterisk (*) is an anagram of a word or phrase that describes an aspect of that planet. For example, the word Drifig in the planet Drifig Prime is frigid scrambled. The answers are on the of the book.

On sweltering Sleethe, in swamps aseethe,
Malignant beings thrive,
Abhorrent things that need not breathe,
And yet are quite alive.
Within a foul and festering broth,
These mucid horrors ooze.
As gluey fluids fume and froth,
They hold their rendezvous.

And there through time beyond all time,
Suffused with rage and hate,
Theyve been in that miasmic slime
Too vile to contemplate.
If by some trick of fate you find
This world wherein they lurk,
Then you shall leave your bones behind
Beneath the Sleethian murk.

SLEETHErhymes with breathe

No human being can survive
The cold of Drifig Prime,
For there your body freezes
In abbreviated time.
You soon lose all sensation
In your fingers and your feet,
You feel your heart grow weaker,
Then completely cease to beat.

Your bones are icy splinters,
And your blood solidifies.
Your flesh becomes so frigid
It begins to crystallize.
Your eyes are sightless marbles,
And your brain, turned brittle, splits.
You topple onto Drifig Prime,
And shatter into bits.

DRIH-fig PRIME

The forests of Fesstor are fragrant,
And the forests of Fesstor are wild,
But the forests of Fesstor are not what they seem,
Beware of those forests, dear child.
Every bush, every bud, every blossom
Is filled with malevolent will.
The prettiest mosses may poison,
The loveliest lichens may kill.

The delicate twigs are deceitful,
And pierce you with torturous spines.
There is pain in the touch of the branches,
There is fire in the whip of the vines.
There are treacherous grasses to catch you,
Coarse roots that can snatch you away.
There are metal-sharp petals to scratch you,
There is peril wherever you stray.

The leaves softly weave evil garlands
To snare you and choke off your breath.
The trees may crash downward and crush you
There is naught in the forests but death.
Yes, the forests of Fesstor are fragrant,
And the forests of Fesstor are wild,
But the forests of Fesstor are not what they seem,
Beware of those forests, dear child.

FESS-tore

The globulings of Wolvar Sprod,
The moment that you land,
Will capture you for reasons
That you cannot understand.

Theyll place you on a pedestal,
And endlessly revolve you,
Until they weary of their sport
And thats when theyll dissolve you.

GLOB-you-lings of WOOL-var SPRAHD

The bugs of Gub, no two alike,
Are all designed to swiftly strike.
Theyll swarm upon your tender skin,
And gnaw your nose, and chomp your chin.

Theyre merciless, relentless things,
With dreadful venom in their stings.
Theyll land on you with jaws agape,
And soon youll find theres no escape.