Thursday, March 29

The picture in my head

its rosebud time
a brilliant red
on silent snow
fresh white bed

ice maiden mirrored
kay and gerda
ditsy dwarves

by the pricking of my thumbs...

fairy tales
every day of our lives
from that ruined castle
up on high
to that lost city
oceans deep
hiding wet wild treasure

caught out for a magic moment
by a lone sunray
that shot right through the waves

deep

into a world we never knew
was there for us

a slow bloom
apricot hues
turning to rich purple
time and tide
they say..

like the bruise on your knee
which is now
but a memory

like the princess
and her pop up book
every page
a new smile

the frog, the pea and the beanstalk
were all green
a nightingale
a scheming queen

the beast heads up the pack
the beast is finally back
the beast will find the crack

but the prince
the pretty prince
that precious petty prince

oh yes, the prince
the prince will paint it black

10 comments:

mermaid said...

The symbolism of fairy tales is powerful, and your cynicism reflects it well.

Women wait for men to save them, when in fact the dwarves, the wolf, and perhaps even the wicked stepmothers were really the heroes in disguise.

I hope you find her.

aria said...

"like the princess
and her pop up book
every page
a new smile"

Those metaphors .. sigh ..

Cocaine Jesus said...

but you are the princess...
you are the fairy tale...

bert moth said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Ricercar said...

:)

loved this ...

this reminded me of edinburgh: "from that ruined castle
up on high"

StandbyMind said...

Man splendid...fairy tale and the metaphors...the flow..

(Me Smiling reading it....)

gabe moth said...

I love fairly tales and yours is such poetry.

It's reminiscent of this:

"Once upon a time, in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a shining castle. Although he had everything his heart desired, the prince was spoiled, selfish, and unkind. But then, one winter's night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away. But she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart. And as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous form, the beast concealed himself inside his castle, with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom until his 21st year. If he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope. For who could ever learn to love a beast? "

Inkblot said...

thanks everyone

good to see you all here

Echo said...

Thank you. My fairy tale world reflected just for my birthday. You're reminds me of my heart and where it should be.

procheta said...

"a brilliant red
on silent snow"

and the rest it takes you through.

i really liked this :)