The Poetry Marathon

Hour 11: The Frog Prince

A lady fair

With streaming hair

Went strolling by the ponds

She liked the way

The wind would play

A tune among the fronds

She heard a sound

And turned around

And looked upon a frog

He wore a crown

Of eider down

And sat upon a log

‘O! Lady do you see me?

Maybe you can free me

Allow me to evince

A fell magician

Caused this transition

I truly am a prince

But it may be

You hold the key

All I need is this

Listen well

To break the spell

You must give me a kiss

Just take ahold

My form enfold

You’re much too high to climb

Now purse your lip

And let ‘er rip

I’m sorry for the slime.’

The lady fair

With streaming hair

Felt sorry for the toad

She grabbed the mooch

And gave a smooch

And then the scoundrel crowed,

‘It was all lies

I do eat flies

And live beside a bog

I am no royal

But you’d recoil

From a lowly little frog.’

The lady seized him

Roughly squeezed him

Spake she, ‘We shall see

With kiss of whips

Instead of lips

If noble you can be!’

But ‘twas no matter

All the batter

Though she pinched and kicked

She did slap him

Soundly rap him

‘Til the toad was licked

In the end

Our slippery friend

Was lucky he survived

But there are things

Like sons of kings

That cannot be contrived

In Memorium

In Memorium
Virginia Carraway Stark

When you walk beside me
I feel you take my hand
You are lilac scented air
You are sun warmed skin
You are the pleasant breeze
You are the sudden smile
You are the tear in my eye
You are the sweet memory
You are the wisdom that you shared

Float

underneath the sea
I am floating away,
drowning and dreaming.

Broad

I wrote in here again… rained upon, shoulders broad and I’m stuck in my skin, aching, by weight on shoulders, they hurt, they are stiff, I can’t help it, it’s a natural reaction for me now, ease of the tension comes by breath, my breath and I meet it often…

Mystie

We walk and she yawns expectantly.

Her sweet eyes, and smile whisper, “Time to go home.”

Guiding me back, her red and white hair shimmers with each step.

Swirling wind encircles us like a dust devil moving past.

 

She sighs softly, her eyes reflecting relief.

Leaning against me as the concrete passes under out feet.

Her legs give a little, and I hold her steady.

She feels safe by my side.

 

Beyond her prime she walks with grace few have.

Gone now are those days, when running filled her heart with joy.

Yet often I will catch a glimpse of the lady she used to be

We walk onward, the house in sight.

 

Basking in its summer glow kittens play in the yard.

The soft green blades of grass soften each step as her legs move slowly forward.

She looks down and smiles. Happy to see a friendly face.

And with one lick she’s made a friend for life.

She is regal and loyal

loving and true.

Best friend,  confidant and a sweetheart, she is family.

 

Her name is Mystie.

Poem #9: In It

In It

At the end of the end of those years, his story was not complete, though some would liked to believe he finished that book. She tried to create this world in order to change history but so much was fiction but she did not know if she could even call it that as much as it was actually wishes. He did give her a ring. She suspected he had a plan, a secret one, and that the like he felt for her outweighed any love that could have come forward. She hoped that one day he would finally wake up and look at the family he could have in her and take this dream that was up above it and go down in it.

@ Renee Avard-Furlow
June 13 2015

Haiku #11

There are pictures in

the pictures of my past; I

grab them with my head.

Cherry Cola Girl

Sweetest chime

Dance on wind

Sing her homehome

With song and grin

 

Blazing blue

Miss her hard

Help me fold

The house of cards

 

 

Prompt For Hour Twelve

Poetry Half Marathoners – this is your last prompt! Yay! You are almost there. The finish line is in sight.

Poetry Marathoners – this is the halfway poem! Congratulations, you have come a long way already!

Your prompt for this hour is to write a poem about moving. The move could be a real or imagined. It can be about moving as a concept or moving as a reality.

Magical

Love is magical too the heart.

Make your heart take love in.

Even if its for the moment.

That moment marks the place.

Where love was.