The Cloud Fairy
Was miffed at the nymph,
So was the unicorn too.
The Mermaids couldn't spend the time
To listen to the constant rue.
The nymph would sigh
The nymph would cry,
But all would come to naught.
For all anyone could ever see
Was the trouble the nymph bought.
"Now listen here" said the King of Elves.
"Hie to me now girl.
I see your troubles twice as clear
Than your head set in a whirl."
"You're lacking a secret secret
That would make your life so grand.
Something you must remember
When you make your stand."
"Always speak from the heart,
Cured with honesty,
And make them see they can't step on you,
There's more than what they see."
"So when the times are getting tough,
And no one calls you Dear,
Just remember one small mantra
And nothing will you fear."
"This is what to say, my dear,
And speak it from the heart
And once you start believing it,
The truth will never part."
So the nymph listened well,
And memorized each line.
And said them nicely to the crowd,
When Finally came her time.
With a smile wide and honest
Within her heart she carried,
"I'm ok when everything's not ok,
Cause it's the Fairies Revenge they Say,
And I have always been a Fairy."
She left the congregation
of the mythical folks of lore
Smiling at their confusion,
Wishing she'd had caused more.
Sometimes we don't fit into the molds
Given us by others,
But so long as we remember our souls
We but only attract true lovers.
So here I am a wondering,
Am I really quite ok?
But since I'm still here writing,
It must be what they say.
I'm ok when everything's not ok
Cause it's the Fairies Revenge they say,
And I have always been a fairy.
*At least I was yesterday*
CHAMPION
Life goes on and on and on
An endless circle spinning
But I've found the place I belong
Now, At Last, I'm Winning
I've found my independence
My shelter from the storm
There is no need to cry out loud
No need to conform
So Life, just keep going
And Circle go round and round
Do your best to conquor me
You Can't-
It's Me I've Found!
bc (c)
Seasons
There is beauty in the dying
In the leaves upon the trees
In Autumn's Gold and Scarlet
There's a beauty one can see
There is beauty in the death
Of Winter's Nor'east chill
The crystal quiet clusters
Lying soft upon the hill
There is beauty in the growing
In Springtime's yellow-green
The trees are strong and slender
Against the April winds they lean
There is beauty in the living
In Summers shining gold
And this is what I love best-
The Sun as I grow old
bc(c)
~The Canvas~
Here I go again,
spouting out different words
all of which explain
exactly
one
single
emotion
Yet I wish to dip my brush into the palette
and recreate my words with different colors,
Obscure strokes with odd sized brushes,
"How can you paint what is so delicate
with that wide house painters brush?"
They ask as I pause before my colors.
My palette contains many shades
that I can mix and blend to the appropriate hue.
I care not for the size of the strokes I take,
I care not for the individual impressions
of my literary works of art.
You see, I am not here to tell you your thoughts,
only to relate mine own.
Yet you hold the brush I have been wanting,
and the paint you hold in your hands is
exactly the shade I'm missing.
Why do you think you have a right
to dip your brush into my palette?
Is it only you are trying to teach,
Instead of trying to steal?
Ah, and the last stroke is accomplished,
The painting seems complete,
except for that little void,
where you stole my soul.
And yet, within your own painting,
I see a little of myself,
and instead of begrudging you my work,
I thank you for the notice.
Artists are we all,
Expanding space and time,
with words, music, and art,
What we create is simply sublime
You, my constant stranger,
daring me through the night,
Hold my canvas gently
And just hold me real tight
bc(c)98
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