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An Ode to Faeries
Azure, fluttering, veiled by hazy blurs,
Dancing along with the zephyrs,
Wafting, airy giggling,
Swift as the laughing breeze.
Nature beckons, they respond
To every twig, leaf, and frond,
Perched in lush masses of greenery,
Blossoming, burgeoning, verdant wings.
Sizzling beauty, a smug curve of a smile,
Tittering, mischief-making, sure to rile
Those who are caught unawares,
Scorching powers, flaming hair.
Trilling, sweet, effervescent voice,
Songs of unknown marine joys,
Bathing in waters crystalline,
Shades of pearl and aquamarine.
Shadows falling, amethyst wings,
Darkness and gloom is what she brings,
Lidded eyes seem to bespeak
Dreadful deeds inflicted upon the weak.
The crackling sigh of the leaves
dustily laces the image set
firmly inside the sinister mind;
The malicious chuckle of the
branches echo with the continous
glow of the moon, the dark, the sun
the stars. But definetly not the man.
The quiet's come with many beauties
things that most beings squint, look
see, hear, but yet, cannot
comprehend. A whirlpool, slow
and soft, soothing, seems to draw you
closer and closer, and yet even closer,
to swallow the mind, the soul, the body...
The grass is lined with fine dew, soft
and wetting the palm, a fresh
scent, wafting into my nostrils, fill
my body with fresh energy, fresh
days. Though in the night, the quiet
can allow the glade's music
to sing-- there are other things
Running a paw through the grass,
the water runs trickling, snow
melting, a hole in a pail
dripping, ever so slowly, ever
so rarely, drip
drip drop drip
Those who seek will find
and those who hear will
listen and understand, as they
say in Neoschool. The wind
ruffles the fur on my cheek and
I gladden the world with a luxurious
smile and skip off
for the day
And yet no one knows my secret
midnight visits, slipping unnoticed,
the moon highliting my features,
slipping with ease, with quickness
with the sure footness my paws
can bring me, for I am a Kougra
who will stay and sit,
quiet, quiet, sleeping to nature's
In Ever's Glade.
The Haunted Woods
There is a land, a darkened land,
The Lost Desert is close by,
There is a land, a scary land,
Where faeries do not fly.
A place where nightmares come alive,
A place where horrors walk,
Where Korbats fly, worms do feast
And clowns know how to talk.
And in this land, this creepy land,
There are witches, ghouls and beasts,
A haunted house, a brainy tree,
Monsters searching for a feast.
But the horrors of the Haunted Woods,
Won't give you such a fright,
If you visit us when daylight reigns,
And not in fearful night.
But maybe you are very brave,
And don't believe in ghosts,
And maybe think the witch's tower,
Is nothing but a hoax.
But are you certain that they are fake?
Are you sure that you can cope?
And what are those two scars upon your neck?
Not Count Von Roo's I hope.
But visit us; please come and see,
The decaying land and goo,
I'm awaiting your arrival, sir,
I'm brave enough, ARE YOU?
A Traveler's Ode
Where trees unseemly blot the sun
And hollow winds through valleys run,
Where wrathful night engulfs the day
The shallow path afar will stray.
And still the lonesome trail will guide
To golden sands and gullies wide,
Where cities lost in sleep reside
And spacious shores caress the tide.
Through ravine steep and wilted grass
The narrow road is yet to pass,
To mountains plagued by winter snow
Where cruel cold bites and harsh winds blow.
To islands thrown aside it bends
Yet nowhere near to journey's end,
Where light on silent water beams
And sun that sets in distance gleams.
The way ahead is unclear yet
Where willows part and branches fret,
Across the sea, toward the moon,
For weary paw will reach rest soon.
The Ghost Lupe
The night was close upon me;
The day was growing black,
The rain fell all around me,
The horizon at my back,
I struggled at the tiller,
Tried to keep it headed north,
I wept and cursed the day
That on this quest I headed forth.
My crew had long died out;
I was the only one now left,
A horrid fever took them,
I was the only one life kept.
The ship with only me aboard
Soon hit a jagged rock,
The damage was disheveling
When that morning I took stock,
And now this night I knew that soon
Death would call me home,
At last I'd be with all my crew
Who'd left me on my own.
I knew that I was done for,
That tomorrow I'd not see,
When lightning lit the sight
That rose above the crashing sea,
Land! Land ho! My ragged heart
Rose up within my chest,
I decided I would try for land
And do my very best.
The tiller set, as was my heart,
To reach that lonesome shore,
And perhaps since I would see today
I'd see many more.
The wrecked ship ran aground,
I stumbled overboard,
And waded through the shallows
To the sandy, soggy shore.
I threw myself upon the sand
And let my tears fall free,
I, who thought would die
Had lived another day to see!
But soon I came to realize
I might not be alone,
Who knew to whom this suddenly
Appearing isle was home?
I crept into the safety
Behind a tide-worn rock,
And kept a strict lookout
So no attack would be a shock.
When I began to look around
And sniffed the chilly air.
The sick sugary scent of death
Was near somewhere.
My heart quick and my mind disturbed,
I scouted all around,
Then turned and nearly fainted
When I saw what I had found.
A scream, a gasp, stuck in my throat,
I looked upon the beast,
Who roamed through legends, tales and stories,
Now looked back at me.
A spectral vision, misty form,
It glared at me with blood-red eyes,
The gallant Lupe knight who had died
To save his lover's life.
The stories rushed all back at me
And pounded in my head,
This hero's epic story,
How he came to be dead,
The natives who attacked him,
He sacrificed himself,
All for the life of his true love,
That is the tale they tell.
Now he haunts this isle for revenge,
To pay his sweetheart's toll,
The heart that once belonged to her
Has turned hard and cold.
I stared into those crimson eyes,
Quaking there with fright,
The Ghost Lupe turned and floated off
Into the fading night,
I wiped my brow of chilly sweat,
And made a quick withdraw,
In hopes that I'd escape the natives
That the Ghost Lupe saw.
I tremble still when thinking
Of the phantom that I met,
And I tremble still and still today,
but the tale I tell it yet.
Total Poetry Pages : 1984
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