| SORCEROUS SIGNALS |
| Written by Rhonda Parrish, Karl Louderback, Ray Smith, Beth Cato, Jennie Glenn, Arnold Emmanuel, Pete Pfau and Clare Revell |
| Alone |
Rainbows
dance in dew drops
that play upon her wings.
Casting light in many colors
designed to dazzle and spelled to deceive.
A wicked and feral creature—
broken, only half there.
Wretched and sad,
she mourns.
She mourns
though sweetly borne
blossoms upon the breeze
carry no scent that she may know.
Injustice wears a black disguise by day
stalking her, a dark revenant.
She flees, faith still strong
to distant lands
and hopes
And hopes
for a better
tomorrow, even though
she knows she will still be alone.
“Curse the gods that invented love. There has
never been a crueler thing to
do to fairykind,” she
cries, her own dreams
dash’ed
Dash’ed
for she knows that
this poison weakens her,
stripping away ancient magic
because love reigns all, even hate, making
her more mortal like the human
she mourns - such cruelty!
Wickedness null,
she yearns.
She yearns
for simple dreams.
Moonbeams to carry her,
to catch her tears and help her dance.
Waiting for the sun to bathe in its light,
she hides in the shadows of her
pain, the endless night seems
to swallow her
again.
Again
her heart breaks with
smashing desire for
a past long ago forgotten
a time when everything was more simple
when men were men and wine was red
like a man's blushing cheek
after a kiss
with love.
With love,
incessantly,
it creeps through ev'ry thought.
What irony is this? Love's jest
is setting souls free and shackling hearts well;
chains to make iron look as tin.
And for what cause? Perhaps...
A lesson learned,
Take heed.
Take heed,
freedom may lie
beyond the gate, where he
stands, beckons, calls her to his arms.
She takes a step, reaching, hoping, longing.
He vanishes before her eyes
leaving her destitute.
Cruel fate, she stays
alone.
dance in dew drops
that play upon her wings.
Casting light in many colors
designed to dazzle and spelled to deceive.
A wicked and feral creature—
broken, only half there.
Wretched and sad,
she mourns.
She mourns
though sweetly borne
blossoms upon the breeze
carry no scent that she may know.
Injustice wears a black disguise by day
stalking her, a dark revenant.
She flees, faith still strong
to distant lands
and hopes
And hopes
for a better
tomorrow, even though
she knows she will still be alone.
“Curse the gods that invented love. There has
never been a crueler thing to
do to fairykind,” she
cries, her own dreams
dash’ed
Dash’ed
for she knows that
this poison weakens her,
stripping away ancient magic
because love reigns all, even hate, making
her more mortal like the human
she mourns - such cruelty!
Wickedness null,
she yearns.
She yearns
for simple dreams.
Moonbeams to carry her,
to catch her tears and help her dance.
Waiting for the sun to bathe in its light,
she hides in the shadows of her
pain, the endless night seems
to swallow her
again.
Again
her heart breaks with
smashing desire for
a past long ago forgotten
a time when everything was more simple
when men were men and wine was red
like a man's blushing cheek
after a kiss
with love.
With love,
incessantly,
it creeps through ev'ry thought.
What irony is this? Love's jest
is setting souls free and shackling hearts well;
chains to make iron look as tin.
And for what cause? Perhaps...
A lesson learned,
Take heed.
Take heed,
freedom may lie
beyond the gate, where he
stands, beckons, calls her to his arms.
She takes a step, reaching, hoping, longing.
He vanishes before her eyes
leaving her destitute.
Cruel fate, she stays
alone.
| Artwork by Marge Simon |
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Rhonda, Karl, Ray, Beth, Jennifer, Arnold, Pete and Clare composed this
poem together as a group project through their writing community and are
no more alone.
You can find them and other writers at:
http://community.livejournal.com/nanoljers/
poem together as a group project through their writing community and are
no more alone.
You can find them and other writers at:
http://community.livejournal.com/nanoljers/