Poetry

Kingdom Crasher

Little demon;

small one loitering in the side alley,

waiting for the merry makers to trip and fall.

Only a second,

and your fingerprints are all over their pies.

Crushed pastry,

you lick the berry juice off and laugh.

This is your hobby, your dream, your job.

You do not see them spying onĀ you,

marking your movements,

tracking your trail.

They are the ones who will see to it

that you fail.

Poetry

The Switch

There was once a young witch,

who suffered with a twitch,

and, though tragic,

it affected her magic.

 

One day she cast a spell

in order to help her sell

her newest healing potions

and soothing skin lotions.

 

Then she felt a slight itch–

oh, no, the beginning of the twitch!

 

BANG! The spell went wrong

and she ended up in a throng

of market-goers looking

for simple ways of cooking.

 

Everyone pushed and shoved;

the witch felt a tug.

 

Someone tried to steal her magic

but it let off such static

that thief and witch

felt their bodies switch.

 

So witch became thief

with missing teeth,

and thief became witch,

taking on her twitch.

 

Now they have to work together,

or they’ll be stuck that way forever!

Poetry

Arrow Play (draft)

A lover lost,

swept in by courtesy

and coin,

fine fabrics that glitter

as the deep divine.

A roguish grin

once jailed her heart

in petals,

a green-clad figure

both devious and kind.

A thief named,

hiding swift in shadow

and sight,

striving for his maid

to regain her Self.

A shattered laugh

embedded in his chest,

pointed wood

glued back into whole,

turgid with swollen hope.