The Writers Voice
The World's Favourite Literary Website

Poet's Princess


Rusty Broadspear

The young man's grey 'poet shirt'
Billowed, flapped in the breeze.
Turquoise breeches, dusty and worn,
Threadbare at the knees.
Fair hair to shoulders, lank, unkempt,
Dull, lifeless, hanging down,
A display of idle contempt,
A broken-hearted lover's crown.
Seated on a fallen tree,
Body bowed, head in hands.
Cried his last cry bitterly.
Fates, not his, to understand.

To the music of the nearby forest........

He decided to dream a rainbow -
Tear the colours strip by strip.
Actions to make the stain go.
Flagging, losing grip.
With bands of colours by his side,
Fingers plied purple and red,
Shades she wore, and now denied,
Deeply engraved inside his head.
Yellow, orange and bridal pink.
Woven, mystical plait, glowing.
Hands a blur, he couldn't think,
Unimaginable loss, unknowing.

To rainbow scent and discontent........

The last two strands lay on his lap.
To merge, unite, coalesce and end
His torment. Blue and green overlap,
Begins to comprehend.
Madly weaving, working with passion,
Hazily, lazily - a transformation,
He rolled to the ground, worn, ashen,
The sun grinned gold, he slept salvation.
And upon the fallen tree - a gown,
A flaming radiance, an Angel's dress.
And quieter than a plover's down
She materialised, held it to her face
And walked away - the Poet's Princess.

To the feel of unseen beauty, he awoke.........

Critique this work

Click on the book to leave a comment about this work

All Authors (hi-speed)    All Authors (dialup)    Children    Columnists    Contact    Drama    Fiction    Grammar    Guest Book    Home    Humour    Links    Narratives    Novels    Poems    Published Authors    Reviews    September 11    Short Stories    Teen Writings    Submission Guidelines

Be sure to have a look at our Discussion Forum today to see what's
happening on The World's Favourite Literary Website.