(A break from the fairy tale one today)
Whisper a secret miracle
and watch the world awaken,
grabbing your moment
and twisting, tugging,
claiming it as theirs
and leaving your
quiet hope
tainted and bitter.
Fiction and poetry writing, recapturing the muse.
(A break from the fairy tale one today)
Whisper a secret miracle
and watch the world awaken,
grabbing your moment
and twisting, tugging,
claiming it as theirs
and leaving your
quiet hope
tainted and bitter.
Martha’s usual melody of greeting
died under the accusing youthful eyes.
Her strained smile
contained a melancholy sigh,
remembering the old wonder and joy
her arrival used to bring.
‘Hello dearie,’ she chirped,
swishing her arms a little for effect.
‘How may I help?’
The young woman didn’t look ill,
abused or distressed.
The dress she clutched was good quality,
the room was small but clean
and the door was unlocked.
Martha guessed a love problem.
‘I need you to make me…’
‘Worthy of a prince?’
‘No, make me a prince.’
Martha swished her wand
as she read her new assignment.
There were no details,
which was common these days,
no one poured their hearts out
to stars anymore,
just demanded an audience.
A ‘poof’ of smoke and
she was in a respectable but small room,
the curtains were drawn,
the bed unmade
and a young woman
was sat on the floor in undergarments,
clutching a beautiful dress
and glaring.
‘It’s about time! I’ve been wishing
for you for years.’
(I think my repetitive rant poetry is getting a bit stale subject-wise and felt more inspired today to try explore a fairy tale twist idea I’ve had for a while. Hopefully more of this will follow.)
It wasn’t what it used to be,
being a Fairy Godmother.
The role used to be appreciated,
sacred,
with young women
longing to wish upon a star
and have a dream granted
Now there were demands,
and complaints,
that had forced restrictions
on the profession
and dulled its magic.
Martha wasn’t sure
she could do it anymore.
Check the signs,
recheck the time,
calculating and hoping
but trying
not to hope too hard
because the disappointment
will be
all the more
crushing
when it comes,
if it comes?
Possess a blossom,
a growing scent,
a calming sight
and a chance
to nurture a life,
help it grow
and watch it
open into beautiful.
Mural your thoughts
on a secret wall
you plan to wash over,
stripping white
and hiding pain,
hurt, love.
Take a moment
before you erase it,
imagining if someone else
saw it,
and wondering
if you’ll ever be ready
for that moment.
Reveal yourself
to a stranger
and have them untangle
your thoughts,
your inner fears.
Be seen
and be scared
but cry tears of relief
and ready yourself
to meet again
so you’ll begin to understand
who you really are.
Dance away into dirt,
twirling with glee
and not thinking of later
when consequences emerge
and your actions
darken someone else’s
psyche, confidence,
existence.
A lull presented
to breathe in the unnecessary.
Become obsessed
with a new story
and forget your own.
Remember the side-stories
that make up
the joy of life.