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The Poetry Corner

Brought to you by the Heralders and all the Corner Contributors!

It looks like this Issue's bi-monthly deadline snuck up on everyone and caught us by suprise, because this is definitely the quiestest Poetry Corner the Herald has seen for a long time! It's understandable though, y'all probably got used to us missing our own deadlines :P
But anyway, we have some wonderful Fairytale and Fantasy themed poetry to bring you this issue, and congrats go to [pegasus1000] for earning the Poetry Corner Great Eldar badge, and to [Shamera] for earning her Eldar badge this issue! [shadow_of_life] is now well past either badge criteria, and so we may have to invent a new badge for her ;)
~The Poetry Corner Crew!



[shadow_of_life]'s Tell-tale Ballad
SOL requests that you read this one aloud, even if you do look a tad silly to your co-workers... more poetry can be found at ShadowLife

When I was young, the Sleeping Beauty
Waited for her hero in her sleep
Where her kiss'd already proven
That she loved no other but the Beast.


And still the handsome Prince was coming
To take her heart as his deserved reward
And place it with the other hunting trophies -
For heroes, just like angels, often fall.


And so the Beast has let her go for seven days
Because he knew it was a long-lost fight
For noble princes' swords do never fail
To pierce Beauties' loving hearts


They'd lived together for a thousand years,
But heroes must accomplish all their quests
And so the prince abandoned both his kingdom and his fears
And begged the Beauty not to stay and wait.


He loved her for the sake of being a hero
But there were many dragons to be slain
And even more unanswered ancient riddles
And even other hearts of Beauties to be claimed.


And she went back to that old castle
That she forsake for a whole of seven years
To find the servants gone and windows shattered
And look for her forsaken Beast.


And then she found the dying monster
To tell him that she loved him all the time
And offer him a loving woman's shoulder
And feel him dying as she cried.


He told her that he didn't want her
To love him like she'd love a prince
He wanted for her arms to be just tender
And hear her promise to be with him ever since.


The Gods tried to take away her beauty
But her pain was such a cleansing act of love
That shed the form of something human
And she became a swan ...
They gave her one last mournful song ...
As I was young …



[Linderel]'s Step into magic, more poetry can be found at Coal black wings
Notes: This poem goes together with my TH 13 Art Corner entry of the same name.

Tempting, the swirling surface calls
to leave behind everything familiar
that should have been where the child belongs

confused in a transformed body
the changeling grips tight
a loyal toy companion

she hesitates, needing to turn
but step by step it's clear
she must be with her true kin

and with cool, gently caressing fingers
the water draws the child in through the bedroom mirror
until she disappears without a second glance back



[pegasus1000]'s Dragon's Lament, and make sure you check out the Dragons Lament wiki-page!

Sleeping in my cave,
Nice and alone, where
I have space, and then I
Hear a noise, footsteps
Coming to my cave.

I am alone deep inside my home
And along you came
Thinking that you're safe

I hear you walking through
My caves, tunnel by tunnel
Pretending you are brave,
You can't see me,
But I see you there.

In the darkness I am hiding
Wondering why you came
With sword held high
Up in the sky traipsing
Through my cave.

Who are you? This is
What I'd like to know,
And why do you come,
Come knocking at my door?

I know something
You don't know,
I am watching, watching
You, with my golden eyes

Who do you think you are
To come knocking,
Knocking at my door?

Wings and scales with
A deadly breath and still
You come, with an evil
Look in your eyes.

Then your sword in hand
You come demand for my bed
And though I protest to your
Request, you continue to insist.

You draw near me, wishing
Only to kill, so I must defend
Fire, and smoke chase you
Warning for you to go

Who are you? This is
What I'd like to know,
And why have you come,
Come knocking at my door?

My golden bed stuck in your
Head has made you madly dim
So the only way I see to make you
Leave is for you to be dead.

Then with I stretch up in my cave
And though you waive your hands
I will not give into your demands
For this is my bed, and now you must go

With one more warning I give, I
Realize that I am getting hungry
So I am thinking lunch.
Soon you realize that though you
Were the hunter, you are now
The hunted, and as you flee victory is

All I see. Still I hunger, and still your
Smell remains, so before you leave my
Cave I come and take a bite, and before I
Know you are no longer there.

Who did you think you
Were? That is what I would
Like to know, and why did
You come knocking,
Knocking at my door?



[Shamera]'s Dancing Irish

The night would last forever
on that warm summers eve
for my father would come to visit
and a child's heart would believe.


He ran his fingers through my hair,
cupped my cheeks and smiled.
then he knelt and kissed the top of my head
our special way of saying "hi".


We sat outside on the front porch
listening to the quiet sound of the rain.
My father said, "It's the dancing Irish,
The dance on rooftops when it rains.


They're small, these Irish folk.
Can you hear their tiny feet?
They dance merrily and heartily
to the rains swift, falling beat."


I ran into the middle of the yard
laughing, "I wanna dance too!"
So I began to boogie in my nighty
With no socks, and of course, no shoes.


Laughing, my father joined me
and together we danced till we were dizzy.
Dancing like true Irish folk,
Merry, barefoot, and free.


But my smile faded when I saw the roof.
Pointing, I cried out
"There's no small Irish people!"
I huffed and turned about.


My dad only smiled and said
"They're spirits, invisible to the human eye
they comfort those who are willing to listen
and give shelter to those who cry."


"Does that mean you'll be one too?"
I asked in a small voice.
He placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled
"Sure, I will if I have the choice."


The seasons would change
and that year seemed to go by fast
I lived to grow older
and my father's funeral has past.


Now and then I still cry
My heart still aches and there is still pain
But sometimes I am comforted
When I listen to the rain.





[Kaeirdwyn] - Kristie L. Baker's Feir Halleigh
Check out this member's house and Elfwood Library for more!

Upon the high wall of Feir Halleigh
There sat weeping a noble warrior King;
Whose brow was wet with a warriors' blood;
looking down on the field where once he stood
And fought the evil, the dark; and won,
By giving up to death, his only son.

His son was called Reneveen and fair was he;
Strong, full of courage, and vigor had he,
But to save The Kingdom, he gave up his life,
So His People would not suffer, neither grief, nor strife.
But suffer they did, for they loved him so;
His passing made them bitter t'wards their foe.

And so fiercely they fought; with revenge and pride,
As their Prince then laid down his life and died.
So the Kingdom was lost, yet the Kingdom was won,
On the day that the Elven King lost his son.
The King never forgave that His Son was lost,
And The People mourned for the life that war had cost.

In time, from his heartache, dead the old King lay.
There wasn't a Prince to take over Feir Halleigh.
The People chose another, yet wished all the same,
For the Prince who had died, Reneveen by name.
So The People go on, glad the battles are won,
Yet still wishing, somehow, to bring back Their Lost Son.





[Jay Ladlehaus]'s Wonderland Is Burning

Approach the golden, shining gate,
The inscription on its face,
“Welcome all to Wonderland;
Try to match the wonder pace.”

Behold they open and reveal,
A shaft of sunlight shining down,
Showing silver castle and green meadow,
Not a shade of sickly brown.

Golden knights do rise against,
The golden dragons of the east,
As delightful maidens cheer them on,
The greatest match of man and beast.

Treasured relics dot the land,
The mages search and find them all,
The magic flows like clear blue streams,
Through many a necromancers’ hall.

And as sudden as a blinking eye,
The black of night covers the sun.
The beauty flees but can’t escape,
Innocence wasn’t made to run.

The castles burn, the meadows parch.
The knights lie dead on a battlefield.
The maidens deflowered weep a stream,
The dragons’ fate is long since sealed.

The relics are dulled and faded,
The mages old and senile.
The halls of magic are no more,
The necromancers no longer smile.

So you turn to flee this horrid place,
Of death and rot and sorrow,
Death’s head smiles flirtlingly,
"What, don’t you like yesterday’s tomorrow?"

Before you exit through the gate,
You take that one last final look.
Surprise! the hills are green again,
Untouched by evil’s hook.

Just go away, never return,
You don’t belong in this place.
I always knew you never could,
Match Wonderland’s wonder pace.



back to the TH Issue 13 Index