Sunday, May 17, 2015

"Play Nice"

"Play nice," they said,
a redundancy to the Old Soul
that inhabited the girl child body.
An unnecessary admonition
to a heart that sopped up pain
like a kitchen sponge.
"Be sweet," they said,
as her eyes saw the deep sorrow
which lived beneath the rib cages
of this species.
"Be gentle," they said,
even as her touch
calmed and healed,
her words sighing a melody
of redemption and hope.
"Set boundaries," no one ever said.
So when the times came
when she was filled too full
to process,
she became Solitary
to weep away the Poison,
and worry over the conflict
between her Spirit
and the frail shell that housed it.
Wondering why if the Gift was given,
did it take this toll?
Wishing she had been placed
where the people leaked Joy.

"Our Lady of the Broken Heart"
Sophia Rosenberg

Friday, May 1, 2015

Mad Hat Blog Party "Hat"

Here is my contribution for the Mad Hat blog party over at:
This will be listed in my Etsy shop this weekend:

For Love of the Fairies

For Love of the Fairies

A frequent runaway,
the boy child fair,
with eyes of blue,
grin so wide.
He wasn't mine,
but popped in
 now and again.
Pity I took
on the poor boy
so pretty,
watching as he
scarfed down 
the edge of my door.
I fed him a meal,
threw a blanket his way.
He would stay for a day,
sometimes two,
go away.
We continued the dance
for many a month
before I saw the truth.
The lies, the thefts,
the sly, charming smile
covering meagerness of spirit
I had taken for guile.
If I scolded,
a tear would appear.
Apologies professed,
my forgiveness assured
by a sniffling testament that here,
 he felt so secure.
It went for a year,
this give and this take,
more often the damage,
more reluctant my stake.
One fine morning in May,
arriving home very early
from spending the night
on a date with the Moon,
I paused at my at my gate,
unsure with unease,
when from inside the cottage
came a sound of such pain!
I paused at the window,
took a peek through the glass.
With horror I looked
at the scene taking place.
There on the floor
sat blond boy so comely
pulling wings off of fairies
 and spouting with glee!
My tea partner gasped
as I paused in my tale,
"What a ghastly little creature
to use your heart so!
A monster most vile,
a bad boy, no good!"
Pouring milk in my cup
and adding a lump,
I smiled my sweet smile,
looked back at my friend.
"Oh, but my Dear,
you are certainly wrong.
He was, indeed, very good,
so tender, so savory,
and so too,
 the gravy."

Dragonfly Wing Photo