Follow this blog
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.
This poem is a fair …….(maiden) in a bright tower, sticky with cotton candy clouds and crowds of dark (k)nights in dashing star-spilled skin. She’s in it for the pop -corn, you know, the equality that only comes from tumbled … Continue reading
I’m quite certain I shall be delicious, all crunchy toasted marshmallow center. But first, you exquisite beasty, let’s dance. For I have ever been more enamored of your scaly sway than a thousand simpering princes. You lead. I’ll stay. I … Continue reading
.. She’s finally let down her hair, bit both bullet and apple, grappled with gadgets and gizmos and thingamabobs galore, tamed beasts. The least he could do is show up. On time. With a little glint of hope. ………..Nope. … Continue reading
.. She sleeps , and her spun-gold tresses spindle down these cobbled castle walls. The feeling of gossamer against her skin, and a gentle mourning for fragile footwear. A half -bitten apple. A fading rose. A watchtower, the call … Continue reading
. nobody knows she feels small in the wee hours of the morning, watching the moon fade in this world of magic mirrors and tower cages and identities tied to golden tresses long enough to climb. nobody asked her if … Continue reading