The Ballad of the Vivid Four

Hid ‘neath The Stalk of Seven’s shade/a wayward Pip Diamond/sings hushed, tales of The Vivid Four/in fear of being shunned/

First the suit most wise and watching/ a suit quite like her own. / My Queen, she sings, hears all that is/ and secrets unbeknown.

Atop Queen Watcher’s shoulder/rests a band of Doodle ghosts—/ They tell her truths from years long pas’d, / Stalk’s power in them boasts.

Without the Queen, this very plant, /The Bringer of Protection, /would not be borne or taught to speak/the Kingdom’s pillar of direction.

Seven watchers in the leaves/drink wisdom from the earth. / This gift—not just the Queen’s to claim, /

this Stalk of Seven’s birth.

For her spell of love could not be cast/less sacrifice of King, /who buried his eye deep in the earth/enriching light it bring.

And Jack, who cracked a golden egg/his swan familiar laid, /he poured it o’er the buried seed/then sang a prayer and swayed.

He played his harp to guide the hymn, ‘ his words to aid the spell. / Our Kingdom now the wiser, /for our fate the leaves foretell.

Atop the hill sits Kingdom Club, /walls armored on three sides—/The fourth, a jagged cliff. Below, /

Tenhundred Sea resides.

Clubs are the suit of action-packed, /will fight or fun any hour. / Known for ale of beanstalk juice, /which holds the Seven’s power.

It’s said that when the ale meets tongue/a smooth voice fills the ear, /and lulls the mind to quiet bliss, /erasing all the fear.

Jack’s a prime example of/Club morals and values. / His armor tailor-made for war, /or costumed rendezvous?

Most afternoons Jack can be found/clowning near the sea, /coaxing drunken pips far gone, /to treacherous bravery.

He gets them in the catapult, / counting down from three, / and, grinning, sends them to the sky/

then, if they’re lucky— sea.

The King and Queen don’t bat an eye, /sight set on broader worry. / Poised for attack, they’re swift yet strong, /Club armies never scurry.

The King of Clubs is stoic, /his sword constant at the ready. /The Queen, of pain and justice, / her hand of cards held steady.

Sharp, loaded, powerful, are/her eyes of light and mission. /The cards a deck of magic spells, / fueled by her intuition.

The City of Passion, Heart Kingdom. /The Siren Queen’s the source. / Adored by Pips of every suit, /‘xcept for spades, of course.

She anoints herself in fawning, /and her power swells inside/ she loves being loved, and the Pips love it too/ for it prospers where they reside.

The Siren Queen loves limericks, art, /and poems from her suit. / And Clubs who string her teeth of Spades, /romantic for a brute.

The Watcher Queen is smitten too, / or so rumor has told. / The Siren’s charm unlocked the spell, / and Stalk of Seven unfold.

Most smitten of all, is half-blind Jack, /Queen Siren’s adopted son. /She’d wed his father, just years ago/and since his mind has spun.

The Late King and Jack had found her /washed up along the shore. / It was love at first sight for all three of them, / and this, the start of war.

The men had made her choose then, / and so she took the throne. / So, Jack decided to show his dad/Tenhundred reasons to leave them alone.

Drowning the King felt poetic at worst—/Resting in hometown of lover, /Jack hoped with that dealt with, he’d be chosen first/ by his love who was barely his mother.

The Queen was furious with her son, /and so, she took his eyes. / For it’s not violence that she forbids, / but trust broken she despise.

It ‘twas the following February, /day of Saint Valentine, /Queen Siren sent her men to sea, /boats built of oak and pine.

The army searched and found their man, / the Siren’s one true love, / for she had two husbands below, / and she needed one above.

The King of Heart’s an improvement/ from the one she had before/ his style is absolute fire, / and The Late King tended to snore.

As the Queen is all beloved, /The King embraces all. / His cup overfloweth with warmth and love/

And hate he disenthrall.

An act of this love for his new son, /he gave Jack back an eye/ by kissing him right on his scar, / lip’s healing power mystify.

Then he slapped Jack on the cheek, / and gave a firm-voiced lesson. / A stern warning for all Hearts. See— /the living symbol, their son.

Give love and you will be loved, / for that much all deserve. / But support and healing come from trust/

so hate within you must conserve.

Perhaps most vivid of the four, / would be the suit of spades. / Jet-vivid nothing— a witch’s black cat, /Spade Wizard’s deep-seated caves.

Forgotten by three of the four. / Vivid yet, hidden, denied. / Fear turned fable, perplexing myth/ above ground, they’re decried.

Thought to be history, just kept alive/ through Club Soldier nightmares, /or elegy written by off kilter

Hearts/ whose reputation no worse for wares.

A ballad, sung at the root of knowledge, /a wayward diamond bard. / For I too should stop my story here/if I like my name left unmarred.

Ghosts wandering the vivid fields—/Spades hidden in plain sight, /Jack of Spades, the trickster, /

Wizard’s apprentice by night.

He spends his days in Kingdom Clubs, /his eye of Tenhundred acting/ like disguise. He duels soldiers/

ale matches. Spade brain non-reacting.

In the evenings, he takes his coin/ and tosses it to Sea, /imagining some hot young Siren/ on a shopping spree.

The Queen is borne of fire, / white hot—just like her eyes. / One look would cripple any man, /though she rarely lets them try.

She spends her time in the City of Passion, /masked with a soft, coy smile. / She dances nude and skinny dips, /bedding Pips n’ Royalty the while.

Her fire scorches hot with love, /Empowering intuition. / They don’t know it, those dancing ‘round, /

but protecting them is her mission.

She’s Mother of the Vivid Four, /her children root her power. / She watches, protects, nurtures them, / and makes all enemies cower.

King Spade hasn’t seen the light of day/since before his friend Late King passed.

He sits, deep buried in the earth. / Miles south, going steadfast.

Deeper than Spade Wizard’s cave, /and the Tenhundred Sea. / A hollow at the core of earth, /in meditation, King Spades be.

Levitating, large green roots/run through him like veins. / Breathing him as he breathes them, /spindling through his brain.

Tapping his thoughts like a well, / crawling up their roots, /spanning over ten-thousand miles/to up-above with the other suits.

Toward the fields of Vivid Four, / in Diamond Kingdom meets, /King Spade’s wise mind and Stalk of Seven/ carries thought from stem to leaf.

King Spade is the Speaker of the Seven, /Protector of The Four. /Four kingdoms, Ten-Hundred pips. /

One Creator… and fan lore.