A kitten steals your heart
its ballet sublime
Her delicate motions
swipe precious minutes of time
Then just when you say
to yourself, “Alright, that’s enough”
It curls into your lap
~ meows gently ‘midst fluff
Unheralded
sleep steals into
my chamber
lowers its curtain before my mind
gently strokes my eyelids
overtakes
~ underwhelms
Rumple Stein returns with a
chilling watching about the
true price of a mission tooth.
Rumple Stein steps from the
dark corner of the room,
His crooked hands weaving a
tale of deep doom.
"Listen close, little child, as
you drift off to sleep,
There is a terrible price for
the secrets you keep."
He points a long finger at the
gap in your smile,
"The Tooth Fairy watches
your bed all the while."
"If you hide a lost tooth
underneath the white sheet,
You must leave a shiny silver
coin for her treat."
For she is no angel with soft
glowing halo wings,
But a pale, bony phantom
that silently clings.
If the coin isn't there when
she slips through the air,
She will twist all your thoughts
into frozen despair.
With sharp rusted pliers and a
cold, breathless hiss,
She will take every tooth for
the coin that you miss.
She will yank out the top and
rip out the bottom,
Leaving empty red guns
where you completely forgot
them.
Without any teeth, your soft
voice will just fade,
Trapped in the silence of the
bargain you made.
You will never speak words,
you will nevermore shout,
Once the cruel bone collector
had cleared your mouth out.
Rumple Stein locked the
bedroom door and grinned,
his eyes reflecting the pale
moonlight outside.
"Beneath your very
mattresses lies the Shadow
Snatcher," he whispered,
pointing a crooked finger
downward.
"This skinny, faceless
monster stays awake forever,
hating the peaceful dreams
of sleeping girls and boys."
The children pulled their
blankets up to their noses,
freezing as the bedframes
creaked softly.
"He creeps out into the dark
because he desperately
wants to fall asleep like you."
A cold breeze swept through
the room, through all the
windows were tightly shut.
"Since he cannot rest, he
reaches up to steal your soul,
hoping its warmth brings him
sleep."
The youngest child
whimpered, realizing their
feet were hanging off the
edge of the mattress.
"If you close your eyes
tonight, he will snatch your
spirit right out of your chest."
Rumple Stein blew out the
lamp, laughing into the pitch
black, "Better stay awake forever!"
Rumple Stein tapped his cane
on the dusty floorboards,
gathering the children in the
mansion's dark parlor.
"Long ago, this very house
belonged to a hunchback
goblin named Quasimodo, "he
whispered, pointing up.
"He had ears like a bat, feet
like a duck, and a crooked
back shaped like a giant
potato."
The grandfather clock
chimed midnight, its heavy
ticks matching the rhythm of
the children's racing hearts.
Quasimodo didn't want to hurt
anyone, Rumple Stein grinned,
he just hated people making loud
noises.
Suddenly, a loud, scraping
THUD- THUD- THUD echoed right
above their heads from the
dark attic stairs.
When the kids don't clean their
rooms, he stalks through the
halls and hides their favorite
toys!
The children gasped, looking
nervously at the dark corners
of the room as the curtains
rustled.
"He is watching right now,
waiting to see who leaves
their shoes on the floor
tonight."
Rumple Stein chuckled softly,
closed his book, and said,
"Now go clean up before
Quasimodo finds you."
The spectral husband
watched his radiant new
muse unpack her life inside
his historic parlor.
He gently chilled the
summer air to wrap her in a
freezing, invisible embrace.
Her living spouse slept deeply,
entirely oblivious to the phantom
tracing her elegant silhouette.
With a cold, phantom kiss, he
gently stopped her beating heart
without a trace of pain.
Now, two ghosts dance beautifully
together through the walls, leaving
one confused widower behind.
where did baby ghost get that witch’s broom?
We were all amazed said the moss that bloomed
the baby ghost smirked at his lovely win
She was taking a whizz, he told to his friend
They told him to immediately take it back
But he did not listen, and fell into a crack
For the broom bucked him off good and hard
Returning to its owner, a witch of the old Guard
tv watching wears me out
steals my energy
eliminates my day
robs me of myself
I sit mesmerized hour after hour
as if I am a puppet without a hand
after a bit I feel one with my recliner
reluctant to live a real life
my tv people are my gods
sometimes I move to the couch
where the droning puts me instantly to sleep
reinforcing my depression
comparison steals
the laughter from tomorrow -
shadow's reprimand
strangles joy of tender blooms
by coveting other fields
the spark of the self
wanes beside a brighter flame
lit in other hearths
creativity withers,
its bold wings torn by envy
what dawn promised
fades in light of noonday sun
inception undone
let what has started become
before the light of day stuns
self-worth is kindled
when the gaze is faced inwards
not outward in want
yearning for sufficiency
self-sown seeds of contentment
fountains join the streams
winds entwine clouds in the sky
rivers meet the seas
all of nature sings as one
in bright, shiny summer's day
The corpulent witch was laughing herself practically sick.
Her striped socks made her thighs look unusually thick.
I stole the kid’s candies, and I had a smooth booking.
She bragged this loudly not seeing a child looking.
The child told other children, and they formed a plan.
They tricked the witch into becoming part of their clan.
We have her now! They said as they dragged her to the bogs.
Of course, six minutes later they were croaking as frogs.
We don't know who steals justice
But we know who steals your heart
Greed steals your heart
And your heart steals justice
At the very beginning
Conspiracy is set
Unfair rules are set
Overlapping and overlapping
Overrule and overrule
It takes tremendous time and effort
To discard them one by one
Greed is just like cancer
Which spreads and spreads
A long suffer indeed
Before it's cured
"So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness the dancing."
- T. S. Eliot
In the stillness of the night,
when dreams float in the air,
faraway I see a light,
and it beckons me there;
I take a walk in my mind
to that dazzling bright place,
a love song plays in rewind,
as I enter that space;
It is an empty large hall,
with disco lights aglow,
in the middle standing tall,
my love does a tango;
Seeing me, he calls me near,
I join him on the floor,
with his deft hands, he does steer,
in happiness, I soar;
Together we swirl and twirl,
till the soft music ends,
he's my love and I'm his girl,
dancing, our love deepens;
In the stillness of the dawn,
when sunlight awakens,
my feet, they ache and I yawn,
my heartbeat, it quickens;
I realise that my dreams
have stolen me again,
I smile brightly at sunbeams,
there's nothing to complain.
11.02.2021
For Constance La France's ""S" contest- new poems only"
where the actor failed
expertise thief certainly
stole whole scenary
Springs
stunning
surroundings
are stupendous.
Spellbound I stare at
superb scenery
showcased by
splendid
spring
1.04.2021
Inspired by:
Contest Name : Spring Ninette
Sponsor : Caren Krutsinger
Debonair Dog sauntered into flower show at quarter to three
We offered her a glass of divinely suited lemon tea.
As she held the cup, we noted her paw’s prominent pinky.
She pronounced the ebony cone flowers a bit too inky
Her hat was the most admirable periwinkle blue,
Her purple suit outstanding, a designer’s ultimate coop.
What breed is she? Someone asked me, possibly Miss McGoo.
Breed all her own, I told her. She’s Miss Debonair Dog to you.
She brought a new touch of elegance to the flower show that day.
Her presence alone, brought in gawkers, who usually gripe to pay.
She walks with a certain air, you know who she is right away.
Springtime has never looked this great. Just saying, okay?
I think she stole the money, my assistant ran over to say.
Who? I asked, not thinking that there would be any way…
That Miss Debonair Dog would think to “do us” that way.
But alas, she was gone, as was all the customer’s hard earned pay.
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