I bid thee good day, traveller
art thou sorely in need of a drink?
Doth thy bones feel tired and weary
craving a soft bed in which to sink?
Thy journey seemed fraught, endless,
a personal quest, a memory gone.
Please rest, sit and take repast
’tis a while since I aided anyone.
Hearth ‘n home I freely offer
a welcome to tarry ‘til daybreak
but a word to the wise I proffer
answer no knocks, for pity’s sake.
There be one who’s soul is restless,
she roams about in search of peace,
pray ignore her pleas and entreaties
LadyP will bend thy ear ‘n never cease.
this came to me last night, sleepless, as a dreamscape, a story in a story. I just enjoyed the darkness of it. xx
Posted in Fantasy, Journey, Narrative Poem, Quest, Realisation, Shadows, Sleep, Travel, Warning
Tagged Fantasy, journey, Narrative Poem, Realisation, Shadows, Warning
‘Twas an old leather tome
left forgotten and alone,
muttering long at it’s decay.
‘Twas Magic you see,
had a destiny but
all it did was sit,
Ye olde leather tome
knew if it wanted to roam,
matters needed taking in hand.
So it searched it’s full pages,
which seemed to take ages,
as the runes proved hard to
Ye Olde leather book,
found the spell, thence it took
due care to speak magic words well.
Forsooth, it’s form changed,
to a Dragon rearranged,
now in a Mountain
Posted in Ancient, Boredom, Dragons, Fantasy, Magic & Mystery, Magic Book, Narrative Poem, Spells, Transformation
Tagged Dragons, Fantasy, Imagination, Magic, Magic Book, Mystery, Narrative Poem, Spells, Tome, Transformation
Tawny Owl was
feeling ever so weary,
sitting under a moon
shining whitely down.
He sighed, then blinked
twice to see clearly,
staring down with a frown.
The large gathering sat before
him, were all restless, making such
a loud din, taking no notice of his wise
decision, so gaining their attention was up to
him. He swooped quickly, picking up a
youngster, who squealed loudly and wriggled
in his hold, Owl dropped him on a grass mound
safely, hooted once and said ‘Do as you’re told’
They all grew quiet, then patiently waited
for Tawny Owl to continue with his say.
all they heard was a loud snoring sound…
Poor Tawny Owl has had such a tiring day…
Posted in Decisions, Fantasy, Knowledge, Narrative Poem, Owl, Sleep, Smiles
Tagged Decisions, Fantasy, Knowledge, Narrative Poem, Owl, Sleep, Smiles
The Old Bell pealed
out one morning,
no human hand
pulled the frayed rope,
no automation set it’s fine rhythm
of a message in a travesty of hope.
Then as suddenly as it had started
it ceased, leaving the Citizens scared
as the dire prophecy had warned them
what would happen, should it be repaired.
Abruptly in the echoing silence, a note sounded ever so clear
’twas a bird singing sweet in the morning, for everyone to hear.
Further notes flew swiftly upwards, soaring high in the brightening air
reaching the nearby seascape, where a whale was basking there.
It blinked, then quickly responded, diving deeply into the sea,
sounding out it’s mournful message, warning everything to flee.
Onward, ever onward, the message spread over the Earth,
telling of the Old Bell’s ringing, unheard since Atlantis’s birth
Then so suddenly it happened, …..’twas just as the prophecy read
the waves claimed all the City, as the Old Bell sank to rest on the
The old wooden fence leant over,
weighed down by age and wear.
Thick-set ivy clung on regardless
white-belled flowers nod in the air.
The house looked lost and dreamy,
dusty windows mournful to see
how unruly was the large garden
without hands tending lovingly.
Years passed by since it’s owner,
had gone sadly leaving no heirs.
Years since any voice echoed
in faded rooms, halls and stairs…
But wait, loud voices and laughter,
a key opens the creaking front door,
the house shivers to it’s top rafter
sensing feet and hands as they explore.
The new fence stands proud and smiling
the house looks on, feeling utmost glee
totally spick and span as it could wish
complete with a happy, loving family…
I didn’t know how to end the story of the house and garden, sometimes I just go with the flow, this time tho’ I nearly went the wrecking crew route, but didn’t have the heart,.. The house, the fence and garden is now alive to me ,… you see? 😉
Posted in About Life..., Ageing, Beauty, Decisions, Door, Feelings, Happiness, Hope, House and Garden, Imagination, Narrative Poem, Reflecting, Saving
Tagged Ageing, Beauty, Dreaming, Family, Fantasy, House and Garden, Life, Narrative Poem