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Rated: E · Poetry · Experience · #2249001
A feeling, trying to be a compass 4-24-2021
Compassity


She talked a poem into being,
said a poem had to march along,
said it needed to rhyme and flow,
said it almost had to be a song.
She wanted it to be in step
as if stomped in mighty beat,
the words would stamp in time, you see,
to the thrum of cadenced feet.


~~*~~


Once upon a time,
very long ago,
and well, again, just yesterday,
in case you'd like to know,

a rohtua ran into the forest.
She had to hide, you see,
because she was being followed
and not by you or me.

She tried to climb a knobby oak,
but her knees didn't bend so well.
She tried to hide behind a rock,
to sit and think a spell.

Sunslight dappled through the branches,
turned her hair a reddish-gold
as she sat there, chin in hand,
as she sat there growing old.

She was smart and pretty
as hermit rohtuas go,
though she'd never believe you--
if you told her so!

Where could she hide?
Her head snapped up with a look,
I know what I'll do, she thought,
I'll hide in a book!

She had several with her, in her bag,
but which one would be just right?
Because even though she'd hide inside--
the book would be there in plain sight.

I could go join the Hobbits,
she mused to herself,
but no, all the Hobbit books were
at home on her shelf.

Why Not Wyoming?
Wait -- did trolls wander there?
Dwarves serious
in mountain lair?

No fairy tale ones,
just trolls giving lip--
and with her luck, she'd be hiding
on the edge of a cliff!

I could hide in Alyndoria!
The dragon would protect me.
Either that or be amused
and boot me out directly.

She felt a tap on her shoulder,
and turned to see those burning eyes.
"You know you cannot run from me;
there is nowhere you can hide!

I also do not understand
why you will not work with me,
why you feel I'm chasing you,
why you don't do what you do!

Writing completes you,
it makes you whole,
it makes you happy,
fills your soul!

Don't run from me, I
can't bear to lose
my brilliant friend,"
said her saddened muse.

She looked her muse
square in her eye,
"Don't know what to do,
and I don't know why!"

Her muse took her hand
"Let's be homeward bound.'
and together let's figure
how to turn you around!















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