the elf boy came out of the meadow annoyed with the fey
They had not been especially kind to him on this July day
Some had jeered and made fun of his overlarge ears
His feelings were hurt by these mean sounding jeers
the elf boy’s mama could tell by his face
That he had not been treated respectfully or with grace
This is so sad, she said, it should not have happened for sure
Her elf boy stayed away from the meadow which was not pure
The fey are usually wonderful, his mama said, and she was right
But an evil gargoyle had taken over the meadow and dimmed its light
Until the other fey chased him off, the elf boy stayed far away.
He did not need bullies to steal his joyfulness, the right of the fey.
Categories:
overlarge, 10th grade, 12th grade,
Form: Rhyme
It was said
that he had overlarge hands,
laborer's hands,
yet when he played
eagles swam up waterfalls.
No one knew where the music came from
or the dexterity of those thick fingers.
Slavic ghosts would weave and spin all night
getting those finger-webs ready to spread
far across a difficult score.
Rachmaninov had a strong piano,
unlike Beethoven,
who occasionally broke
his less stout keyboards.
Beethoven's indominable will
cut through acceptable norms
with a buzz saw and a bulldozer.
That Russian with his
deep-set chords
rained down upon us
both sweetness and sorrow,
the way a dark cloud
in a desert often brings life.
Melodies to break or mend,
and to be thread through
any listening ear.
Categories:
overlarge, poetry,
Form: Free verse