Flibitygibit
Miranda wants to dance with the fairie King.
At the ball with iridescent wings and all.
Her red curls frame those sparkling eyes of green,
a whimsical color,
not naturally seen,
by those in the world of the fairie King.
But alas, still and revrant she sits.
And waits, and hopes.
Then, softly like the tinkle of rain
she hears someone begin to sing,
a song of love that floats in the air.
"Beautiful." she thinks in her head,
"Now there's just one other thing."
"How, oh how, will I ever manage to kill the Queen?"
posted by The Paradoxical Pariah at 11:16 AM
2 Comments:
Ha. Is this yours? I dig it.
And I'm honored to be on your link list. I've been trying forever to figure out how to do a link list on my page...I'm slowly getting more cyber-literate, so I'm sure I'll figure it out soon.
Yes! This is mine, I liked all of it untill the last stanza, it seems to lose the cadence at that point. But, I mean, really, poor Miranda. Always a brides-maid, never a bride. :)
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