One day, I'll be big as life on the moon,
no need to arrive through a space-bound gate.
It’s only a matter of moments soon,
when I will escape from this earthly weight.
My presence will delight the moonlit air,
though I won’t move past its celestial gleam.
But truth will be hard for my dreams to bear,
So nights won’t remain silent to my scream.
For the contest: That's Life: A Different Kind of Challenge
Contest Judged: 3/2/2025 1:09:00 PM
Sponsored by: Andrea Dietrich
Placement: 4th
As a child of only three,
looking out over the big blue sea.
Her eyes got huge with such glee,
as the waves hit her tiny knees.
Mommy I need to pee,
in the water is the key.
As big as life she can see,
making her wanting to flee.
At this young age did she make a plea,
making this big as life agree.
Will this wide blue sea hold Marie,
or in years will it set her free?
You returned last night,
Right back to me,
In a dream...
Looking big as life
As your aura
Pleaded
Explaining it all over again,
Your eyes, glowing like moonbeams
Justifying your quick departure
Along with a brief stanza
About that girl
With the huge brown hair
The one at the bank
That you flirted with,
Letting me know
it was nothing
And that still
Separated by the veil between worlds
It was me
You wanted to come home to
Every single day.
We flee
Away from city life
To ancient trees
Forgetting our daily strife.
Where brownies, dwarves, gnomes, and
Fairies befriend tall ones with a jeweled
Knife.
This place is so neat.
There among the trees as big as life
Is a white unicorn. They're not obsolete.
This was such a treat.
Then we were led to the banquette
Where the king of the fairies said. Please
Take your seats so we can begin to eat.
Don't be loose with your drink remember
We have guests use your etiquette.
It's raining cats and dogs on a dark and stormy night -
with such a stroke of genius, a poet starts to write.
Inane clichés he's banging out to beat the band,
a booby trap as big as life to bite the poet's hand.
It opens up a can of worms to catch the early birds
but with no bird in hand he'll have to eat his words.
The tropes are fresh as daisies, with infinite supplies
of broken-hearted lovers, and rainbow butterflies.
Garbage in and garbage out, it's fun and games for all,
to sell you down the river and drive you up the wall.
For if it's true a pen is more mighty than a sword,
then we're as good as dead, for to death we will be bored.
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