Treasure Keeper

dragon

A dragon emerges from
smoky grey and black
clouds.
Ancient symbols
spin around his head.
Razor sharp, spiky teeth
and scaly back, glisten
like carefully crafted
obsidian spears.

The maiden is not afraid.
Her long hair is loosely
gathered.
A single braid is pulled
to one side. Heavy silk
layers of soft mauve
seem to disappear and appear
again as smoke swirls about
the cavern.

Restlessly, the dragon
circles the space.
The maiden remains still.
She dreamt of this
majestic beast.
She saw his ferocious eyes
sensitive to the slightest
movement.
She saw his bravery
and his compassion.

When the dragon stops pacing
their eyes meet,
their hearts lock.
The maiden steps toward
the flaming roar,
her trust protecting her
from the raging fire.
As her small hand touches
the chest of the beast,
a single drop of blood
is drawn from her delicate
finger. With a swift turn
of his head the dragon
catches the drip on the tip
of his tongue.
Their fate is sealed.
Her treasure
will be forever protected.

Cat and Mouse

It’s a game of cat and mouse.
You hide.
I seek.
You disappear,
appear,
vanish
and reappear again.
All while I am
one step
behind.

A magical illusion occurs.
I see a rabbit
lifted from a hat.
I fail to see where it goes.
I fail to see where it goes
when the magician releases the long ears.
When you stride off
I fail to see where you go.

I sigh with relief when I see your smile.
I think it is over
but off you go again.
The pattern repeats.
There is no end.
It is a game of perpetual motion
but I do not want to play anymore.
I am tired of chasing you
chasing dreams
chasing hopes for the future.

Rules keep changing to meet your needs.
Your hungry craving
to hide in the shadows
leaves me tip toeing
through muddy streets and
entering places I did not know
anyone could go.
I am scared you will
get lost and forget your way
out of the corner
that draws you
from the light.

I am afraid
that I will only fit
going in
and will not be able to wiggle
and slither
myself
back
to the light of day.

It is exhausting.

I don’t want to play anymore.
You are so engrossed.

The game has taken on
a life of its own.

Words

Black and blue words
on a crumpled page
are rolled tight in a fist
and tossed aside.

Smothered phrases
unable to utter their meaning
sputter and gag as an agitated mind
quickly leaps from one unconnected passionate thought
to another.

Ink rolls smoothly
off the tip of a glib ball point pen,
sassy pink veneer self assured
and cocky.

But the streaky symbols
don’t stand a chance against lightening fast hands;
quick to judge and dispose impressions
before seeing becomes believing
and what is written
might be read as the truth.

Inner Magic

Magical space
buried deep under layers of
growing up and becoming an adult

Elves and fairies
pixie dust and flying
golden glitter turning shades of blue, purple or green

Land of make believe
land of nod
hidden but not gone

Imaginary friends
placed on a shelf
wrapped in memories
set aside
not cast away

Dragons and unicorns
precious moments
bound by social rules
had to be tucked away

Bizarre, peculiar, outlandish, outré
buried
to make room for reality

But magic seeps up
in unusual ways
beautiful melodies
twinkle of an eye
curious observations
outrageous hair

Weird, zany, unconventional, strange
magic may be buried
but it is still there

Magical Brew

tea

Autumn sunshine
burst of energy
dark clouds banished for now

flags blowing
crisp attention
patriotism on display
no indication of alchemy at hand

delicate flavors
sweet aroma
hint of mystery in a cup

it’s magic
in a cup
magic steeping
brewing
in a cup

time stands still
with the meeting of two friends
encapsulated in a hug
encapsulated in a cup

a spell is cast with the first sip
the first kiss
the first sip of tea
that kisses the lips

roar of an engine breaks the enchantment
boxes are delivered
bicycles scoot by

music plays
patio drinks and laughter
weekend at hand
but
the mind is lost
steeped in memory
passion brewing
heat of magic
conjured in a cup
lingers on the lips

A Gnome

gnome
(image credit: inplacesdeep.blogspot.com)

We came upon a gnome
blowing up balloons
seated at the corner of a house
Discovery of his presence delighted us
piqued our curiosity
We approached slowly

He appeared to be equally curious about us
remaining seated on a wool blanket
black boots tucked under his body
straw hat at an impossible angle on his head
round lenses of his wire glasses magnifying his dark eyes

The gnome spoke rapidly
in rhyme
he told a silly story
that blended with questions
he didn’t bother to hear answered
We laughed
amused by his silly demeanor

While all this took place
a young elf
paced side to side to the left of our seated friend
The older gnome ignored the movement
remained focused on us
Between giggles we tried to speak
but he had a tale to spin

He handed a balloon sceptre
pronouncing a new queen
investing with authority a new royal
custodian of the inflated rod
And was gone

We blinked with mirth
not quite understanding
what had just taken place
a bit of magic added to our day

Shadows

sept-2013-the-crone

(photo credit: rogueverbumancer.com)

The shadow of the Crone
tainted my day
Her cloak trailed
reluctantly behind her
as she slowly crossed my path,
full of compassion
for those the shadow would touch

Messages of death
collided
in their haste to be announced first

I eyed the hag warily
ugly messenger delivering ugly messages
but she continued on her way
unfazed
oblivious
to the turmoil
her news brought to my life

We enter the world knowing
we must leave one day
but somehow in our pursuit of life
this knowledge is lost
we approach return passage
with trepidation
or fear

One of the calls
announced the departure
of my Godmother
not a fairy like Cinderella’s
but a beautiful woman who
wove magic
into memories
especially from my childhood

“Tonnie” was another graceful soul
in my life for the briefest moment
a treasured friend and cousin
of my mother in law
When we met
it was as though I belonged no where else

I feel fortunate to have known them
for this brief time

Their sudden entry and exit from my world
leaves me reeling
wondering about the ways of the netherworld
what deals have been made
and are exacted when we least expect
Crone recalling what was once hers
hag doing her dirty work

Life is truly
“the blink of an eye”