A DAY FOR REFLECTIONS ( I. P. )
By skinner_jennifer
- 4207 reads
As I sit here pensively,
reflecting on my life,
the trees so tall stand with pride,
the sweet sound of chiming bells,
ring out all around,
they lift my spirits.
My brindled cat,
eyes closed, her hair sleek and smooth,
she appears at ease as she sleeps.
I sit here with pen and paper,
words will not form,
so I close my eyes,
against the brightness of the suns rays.
Alas the peace is broken by another voice.
"A penny for your thoughts dear lady,"
I look up, a young man brushes my shoulder.
"We are the Bloomsbury group,
why don't you come join us," he replies.
"I fear I cannot for I have no prose."
"Have you a pen and paper?" he gestures,
"yes I do," I reply,
"can you write?" he speaks again,
"yes I suppose I can." is my reply,
then come join us, write your feelings down.
I rise to standing,
'why am I so nervous?' I think to myself,
I exercise my mind in a positive way,
becoming aware of those great artists,
I am about to confront.
As I reach my destination,
I smile and take a seat,
hearing the bird song so sweet,
in this place of peace.
The young lady facing me smiles,
how to describe her,
as pretty and delicate as a flower.
Staring at the blank sheet of paper,
I fear no words will come,
but then all of a sudden,
out of the blue it comes to me.
Snowing in August,
snow touches me,
'how can that be?' I ponder,
tiny flakes brushing my cheeks,
then from somewhere,
the words take shape.
The Majestic Polar Bear,
sits on his ice throne,
wearing a Majestic Crown,
his subjects all around him,
suddenly into the cold, blue Ice Cave,
ten Albino Penguins bring in an Ice coffin,
inside the coffin,
lies an Albino Man.
I peer at him through the ice,
the mans eyes are open,
he stares back at me.
"Set him down," roars the bear,
"Is he dead?" I enquire,
"No only sleeping," replies the bear.
Suddenly hearing a distant voice,
I come back to my senses.
"Excuse me dear lady, but what is your name?"
the gentleman enquires.
"Oh! sorry I was day dreaming,
my name is Briar Rose," I whispered.
"What a pretty name," the gentleman continued.
I once more set upon my day dreaming,
the bear comes up close to me,
he stares in wonder at the very site of me,
"who are you?" he wishes to know.
"Briar Rose is my name, I wish to enquire,
will this man wake up?"
"Ah! yes, but only with a kiss,
from a fair maiden." replies the bear, tapping
his lips with his fingers.
"I know of one who is fair,
but I must ask her permission first."
I remembered the lady,
as pretty and delicate as a flower.
"Excuse me," I say to the Bloomsbury Lady,
"pray tell me, what is your name?"
"Don't you know who I am dear?" she smiles.
"No I'm afraid I don't," I feel ashamed.
"Why my name is Virginia Woolf, I'm surprised
you don't recognise me."
"I am so sorry," I blush with embarrassment,
"I almost feel ashamed to ask, but would you
care to be an essential person in my story?"
"If you think I am worthy,
then yes I would be honoured,
to be a part of your work."
I revealed to the bear,
that the lady as pretty as a flower,
would be more than happy to help out.
Virginia approaches the Bear,
"pleased to meet your Majestic Bearness,"
"and the same to you, dear lady," replies bear.
"Come dear lady, let us see if your kisses,
are sweet enough to awaken our friend."
The lid is lifted off the coffin,
suddenly I hear the sound of violins,
I close my eyes,
listening, lost in the music,
I start to sway,
as I break away from reality,
I take a look around,
moving I start to twirl,
feeling dizzy, I drop to my knees.
"Come my dear," said the bear to Virginia,
she looks down upon the coffin,
"strange," she says,
"I have never seen such a man as this."
"Please go on, you must kiss him now," says bear.
As Virginia leans into kiss the stranger,
dark shadows draw across the sky.
"Quick the kiss must be done now," said the bear
with some urgency.
As she kisses him,
his lips seem as cold as ice,
there is suddenly a transformation,
his outward appearance undergoing a change,
colour coming back,
blood pumping through his veins once more,
his hair changing colour,
from white to blond, then to brown.
He starts to move his hands,
stretching his fingers wide apart,
he looks around,
moving from side to side,
he opens his mouth,
but no words he speaks.
Rising up he comes to sitting,
looking around as if in a trance,
then he looks up at the shadowed sky,
lifting one arm,
he points his finger and as if from know where,
comes a lightening bolt,
striking the very shadows,
that promise to engulf those below.
"Go!" said the bear,
"take your fair maiden and leave us now,
you have done your part, leave before it's
to late to return to your world."
I looked up, then down at the sheet of paper,
words had suddenly appeared before my eyes,
I had written all this down,
I felt elated,
my little company stare at me,
the brindled cat jumps up onto my lap,
her tongue licking my hand.
"So my dear," said the young gentleman,
"have you managed to accomplish any writing?"
"Oh yes," I reply,
"then please let us hear what you have written."
"Oh no! I could'nt," is all I could say.
Now I know why I was so nervous of these people,
they are all true professionals,
they wanted me to read my work.
"Could'nt you just read my work yourself?"
I pleaded.
The young man came over to me and held my hand.
"My dear Miss Rose," he said,
"It is only by facing up to our fears,
that we learn to overcome them,
you need not fear us, we do not judge."
So there I was,
here amongst strangers,
my heart beating so fast,
I thought it would explode,
my lips dry,
my hands cold and clammy,
shaking I pick up the piece of paper,
I start to read.
It was only when I had finished,
that I began to realise,
I had nothing to fear,
but fear itself.
"Thankyou my dear," said the young gentleman,
"we enjoyed your story, please come again."
The sun was going down, there was a red sky,
another glorious day,
would be had tomorrow,
'perhaps I will return,
with some more stories to tell.' thought Briar Rose.
I took my leave,
my cat sauntered along side of me,
I felt pleased with myself,
an air of excitement overcame me,
as I made my way home.
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Comments
I loved this Jennifer
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new Skinner_jennifer Hello!
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You told it very well Jenny.
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I'm not sure I really
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Ah :D its great! Thanks for
"I will make sense with a few reads \^^/ "
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Hi Jenny
Hi Jenny
I really liked this poem/ story. It combined so many aspects of writing, and brought back to mind for me the time I went to a writers group and was asked to take a postcard and write a story about it. I was so nervous - and my hand writing is so poor - and I never write with other people around. But I did something, and when I read it out, people were amazingly supportive. I never went back to the group but I think gained confidence that allowed my writing to progress in other ways.
Jean
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