Forest Hopes

Trees tower above me
Burning with the fiery glory of a thousand sunsets
Little sheafs of amber, gold, and pumpkin fall towards me from the sky
With the ease of feathers but the solidity of rain,
They float down
Brittle to the touch, they crinkle and crunch under me in the most delightful way
With a sound both barely noticeable
And entirely overwhelming
Breaking apart into a millions of beautiful shards,
Gracing my amber hair in bountiful amounts
Breathing in I smell the bitter yet delightful scent of home
Looking up I see light shining down through the vast canopy
To me it appears as if each little leaf gives it’s own light
And shines just for me

The Man on the Moon

Have you ever spoken with the man on the moon?
Last night he spoke to me of you
He asked if we were rushing into things too soon
I told him forever should start yesterday if I get to spend it with you
We bet which had more stars- the skies or your eyes,
And much to our surprise, it was a tie
He told me about a time he mistook your smile for a sunrise, and threw off the ocean tide
And as a whole, he really things you’re the most swell guy
I asked him down to dance, if he could breathe when out of space
Don’t be jealous darling, he is so very chaste
He can’t make the wedding, but somewhere before the honeymoon,
We’ll all have to randevu
And if you can believe it, he’ll bring the honey too
Tell me dearest, is it true-
Did he also speak of me to you?

Amanda Anne

Poison drips from her lips
The Ruby red petals of a temptress
She stole a siren’s voice box
Amidst a stormy tempest
Then plucked her eyes out from her head
And set the sockets with sapphires instead

She sold her home to Rumpelstiltskin
So he’d weave her golden hair
And she’s never in the sunlight
Lest her skin appear less fair
At her sides she’ll slowly snip
Until there are no more love-handles left to grip

And she only has but one expression
She had the best dollmaker paint it on
The vague imitation of a smile
Any other faces are long gone
She won’t walk lest petals are strewn beneath her feet
The scent unfortunately is more sickly than is sweet

The girl she used to be so beautiful
A maiden young and free
But beneath this pretty shell
There is little left to see

Turtle Shell Love

If I were the shell upon your back my darling,
And you the turtle down below-
Why it sounds quite funny I know.
But I could shelter you from storms, you could keep me oh so warm,
And if foes or woes befall you my embrace, well, it could hide you
Or if I turtle you’d rather not be, well let’s see. . .
We could be flamingos in the sunset, and move our necks to make a heart-
Or maybe better swans, for once they love they never part.
Or if you were another bird (of paradise perhaps), then I’d woo you with my dancing, and we’d build a nest that’d last.
Though perhaps poultry is poor preference when you you should be more grand
You could be the sky my darling, as my waves crash upon the sand.
I’d reflect your splendor, your stunning light displays,
And when the sun won’t grace you with it’s rays,
I’ll bedeck you with every star in space.
Of these silly comparisons, little can be said-
They are simply simple ramblings from a lovebird’s head.
All I mean to say my dearest,
All that you must know,
Is no matter where we find ourselves,
I will love you so.