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Tag Archives: fixing the endings
After the rain (before the moon), they hum their free-dom tunes to a storied sky. The world whirls by with a royal flair, but they’rejust happy to behere with the trees. ::In November, we poem.
They’ve gone wild(these wayward princesses),bored of bibbidi-bobbidi boo,tired of titles and weary of woo. They’ve decided to break it all down lose the shoes and crack their crowns into a mosaic of glitterglee. See? The world shines better broken. Spoken. Free. ::It’s Quadrille Monday over at dVerse … Continue reading
That’s where they gather the most, the mossand the moments that remind them they’re free. There are three small pines where they’ve cast their shoes. Here they pause to remember their past. And then there’s the moon. Eyes and swords skyward,they whisper thank you to stars, and know … Continue reading
The water’s clean and cold and good, pulled straight up from a lower spring. They sing as they go, not the high princess ah-ah-ah of their former selves, but a low high-ho of work well done and freedom won and stories spun, laced in laughter and woven-whim’d … Continue reading
They don’t want to wear shoes or dress up or drink from silver cups or dance with the king’s dumb son. And so they run. And then they RSVP to treesand breeze and mudluscious gleeand all the wheeeee they can stand. ::Catching up a little, backwards and in … Continue reading
Kissing Frogs They do it all the time nowat the stream, in the marsh, in their own mudluscious homesbecause now they know (whew.) no (“someday”) prince will comeand the frogs love it and it’s all just in good fun. ::In November, we poem. And … Continue reading
Every Saturday night, the girls once again don the crowns, but looped round (and round and round) their arms as hula hoopsspun in a whirl of rubysapphirediamondgold. War stories are told and fairytales spun, too, and the rescued dragons know just what to do with the cast-off (ridiculous) high -heeled shoes (they’re … Continue reading
Sometimes it’s all they wear, these wayward princesses basking in the sun; not the Risky Business “future’s so bright” kind, but the way the tree slants just right kind, for leafy shadow tattoos. They choose the warmest part of day and make their me-andered way to forest floor … Continue reading
They drink from stream and lake and oak-leaf dewand brew their tea from waterfall fountain. There’s a banquet of snacksand a welcome knack for napping and every hour’s happy now because their feet are bare and there’s no one to stare and the chores are shared and nobody’s … Continue reading