Wednesday, October 2, 2013

3 Poems and a Fairy Tale

Hi. The following are exactly what the title says. Not very creative, right? Still, I hope you enjoy them. One of the poems is in iambic pentameter (sort of), which I haven't done in ages. Am I still good at it? Does is matter?

*****
Em8

The setting sun, a lovely view,
made more so when I'm next to you.
The city lights, they have their charms,
because you're cuddled in my arms.
A rainy day or storm-tossed sea?
It's all lovely when you're next to me.

*****

Am1

I let you go and walked away, my dear,
because I knew not what else I should do.
My heart was racing from a sudden fear -
a fear brought on by how I felt for you.
And now I've slowed, I've stopped my foolish run
and ask aloud, "Oh no, what have I done?"

*****

Artist

The ink is leaking from my pen
it smears the pages yet again
What shall I do for it is my last one
I cannot stop, the words are not yet done.
The ink is nearly empty now, oh no.
I must continue writing but how so?
Perhaps I'll spit and mix a little mud?
I know - I'll prick my thumb and write in blood!
HA-HA! Don't look at me as though I'm daft.
I'm an artist dedicated to my craft!

*****

This story was inspired by me throwing a wood shaving into the fire out in the field. It glowed, looking like a small girl for a brief time. The story is rough, but I like it well enough.

*****

The Little Ember Girl

One day, after throwing a large shaving of wood into the fire, a little ember girl appeared. She was bright red-orange and black, and she came from the glowing wood shaving.

She looked up at me, waved hello. I gave her my most charming smile and a slight nod of my head. She stood for a moment, making sure she held my attention. Then, to the rhythm of the juniper wood popping, she began to dance.

She twirled. She leaped about, hair showering tiny sparks. I wish I could describe the dance better, because it was beautiful, but my words fail me. The dance went on for quite some time, but soon the little ember girl began to slow. As she did so, I noticed that her red-orange glow began to dim. She was fading away.

She saw sadness in my eyes. Sadness at losing something so beautiful. She saw, and shook her head. She did not want me to be said for she had been able to dance for me. She had danced, and I saw. I saw, and that is what all little ember girls wish for - to dance and be seen (because for many, their dance goes unnoticed). And it warmed my heart.

And as she faded away, she smiled at me and waved goodbye.

"Goodbye," I whispered.

So the next time you are seated around a fire, be sure to pay attention to the little embers, for if you look really close, they might just dance for you. And it will warm your heart, too.

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