Bright Riddler

By SylvanHuntress

Tue, 28 Apr 2009
  • 1602 reads
10 comments
 

Bright riddler, thou whom hast led me in this dance for hour upon hour, in spring rain or winter shower, I have a word for thine ear alone. Thy words, sweet solace, merry remembrance, dutiful concern, bright laughter, they fool not the eyes of my soul. I see thee, a creature whole in thy complexity, I see every facet that is indeed thee. Think not to trick me, to test me, to tie me and wrest false trust from me. 'Tis only thee that I see.

My sweet riddler, I know thy games, have given them names, have played them 'til in sleep I am their master, toy not with me, ye'll not emerge the victor. I shall conquer thee in this and all other things, for I am greater than the sum of my parts, a mistress of mine own dark arts.

I'll see thee tethered, I'll have thee bound, I shall whip thee 'til I hear the pleasing sound of thy voice, begging my tender mercy, begging for me to take thee. 'Tis then that I'll kiss thee, sweet and gentle, exquisite tenderness after my harsh touch so lamentable. I'll press thy lips to my bosom, I'd have thee worship me, lover, woman, mistress, whore, thy wife and so much more.

When all is said and done, two shall be finally one. Take thee by force or offered as a blossom upon the vine, thou shalt be mine. Thou shalt offer up to me all things that across time and space have rendered thee empty. Bright riddler, I would have it all, thy love, thy loss and sorrow, the arrow that once wounded thy heart, the blood upon thy lips, the feel of thy sure fingertips. Give it me, I give, so too shall I receive, I would no longer see thee grieve.

My bright riddler, muse of all my brightest thoughts and darkest shadows, thou art the fey constructor of my darkest dreams. Much as I'd have thee, take thee, consume thee, drink of thy very spirit to taste the sweet ecstasy that I might draw from thee, so too am I given. 'Tis the word I wish to have thee know, I am thine in the savage taking of thy spirit, I am bound in the binding, sworn in the swearing, lost in all my depthless caring. Understand but this, as I know thou must certainly do, much as I may take, I am given too.

Certificate U
Poem
The Elegance of Ardour
Miscellaneous

Comments

Submitted by Mangone on
Ah, sweet dancer, I know thy secret steps I have watched you dance to the music of the leaves. Yet have you not forsake your familiar forest for the lure of the laser lights and glittering prizes? You sing an ancient soulfull song yet you dance to a modern beat. Seeking to learn the spells of the Enchanter YOU are enchanted. Beware lest thy Sylvan magic fails and you become a slave to sophistry. So my dear Huntress riddle me this: If you would tether; if you would bind Is that the love of the Elven kind? Or is it the way of the ruler of old? born once again and now growing bold. you may dance with a flower in your hair but who forged the magic ring that you wear?

Submitted by SylvanHuntress on
Alas, my glade is long gone. I slipped into sweet slumber and woke to find not leaf, nor tree, nor the music made by bird and bee. ‘Tis true I dance to a distant drum, that my heartstrings are tuned to strum a melody more ancient than this time, woven to match another reason, another rhyme. Who art thou, to appoint thyself judge and jury when ‘tis plain to see that to thee, I am an unknown entity? Sophistry? My dear casuist, ‘twas not my intent to confusion invent! Am I to lay aside my magics and my sweet words for fear that some might think me absurd? Forsooth! The very idea! Still, come a little nearer… Dare to gaze into the Enchantresses eyes and there sort the truth from the lies. Crude bearer of rusted sword ye seek to wound me with thy words yet ‘tis not I who struck the first blow, ‘tis not I who seek to bring thee low. My tethers are meant for another and as I stated before, I am bound in the binding, sworn in the swearing, lost in all my depthless caring. Balance. The universal song knows no discord when give and take are in play and the bound are so willingly trussed, succumbing with little mess, little fuss. Come closer, Mangone, come see how easily the binds are undone, come drink the scents of the flowers that adorn my hair, come dance beneath the moon, but have a care. There is, indeed, magic in the ring I wear, the giver of which I shall not name here.

 

Submitted by Mangone on
If thy magic be so great you should then appreciate fate makes strangers of us all yet we have danced at the faerie ball let the gypsy play his violin for his is blood of an earthly kin while you and I are old as time... live in legend, song and rhyme Yet I will wait and watch thy words heed the wisdom of the birds look from tree top, watch from bush I may approach - there is no rush. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Let me put thy heart at ease. Twas all in jest - a little tease. A paper tiger I suspect Would like to roar for an elven sect Stories are only that it seems But then this is a place of dreams :-)

Submitted by SylvanHuntress on
Ah yes, dreams ... Creatures bold and sure who scratch at the adorned door that keeps us from wind and wear,that bars us from magic beyond compare. The world of dreams we circumnavigate warded by hope as we translate visions of magical things, wondrous beings, fantastical seeings! 'Tis but mete that we rest awhile, that we dance and sing within the dream, that we adorn ourselves with magic ring, with flowers crafted upon the loom, with silks that shimmer and shine, that we stop to contemplate the Divine. So come dear friend, take a little ease, I am not so serious as to not enjoy a little tease. Fairy creatures are not strangers to jest, my humour you may put to the test and see that I am amiable as a warm breeze in the spring, that truly I am a playful thing. Ask the gypsy to play us a merry tune, pour the wine and call for a song and my voice I'll lift in hearty regale of our now-winding tale. I'll sing of meetings upon a distant shore, of dreams and magical rings and mirthful teasings. All the while I'll dance the steps that you claim to know and I'll look back to see if you can follow ;)

 

Submitted by Mangone on
Sweet mistress, now I think it me who in my turn be teased by thee. Yet glad I am to hear thy mirth. Laughter is of special worth, Like sunshine it can ease the soul Lift the spirit, make one whole. And so uplifted by thy advance I hope, again, that we shall dance ;)

Submitted by SylvanHuntress on
Listen to the piper play, a merry tune, wouldn't you say? Indeed I am a merry soul See, I can bang spoon against bowl and twirl and dance and play the fool though this style of rhyme restricts with too many a rule. Metre and rhyme and blah blah forcing me to do the cha cha when in truth I long to hear the seductive notes of lute and flute as I dance free beneath the stars for endless hours. Rivers wish to flow free as does the magic in me, So hear the seductive sway of the midnight melody in May and when you see the moon know that fairies dance to my tune.

 

Submitted by Mangone on
Ah dear dreamer, delighful dancer, merry soul, sweet romancer. Supple sinewed seductive swayer, answer to an immortal's prayer Let us meet beneath the moon, at the faerie dance that falls in June On twenty fourth the Butterfly ball; elves and faeries welcome all Simple for us of magic kind to swiftly travel with our mind. Follow the music, beneath the stars, well away from roads and cars In thy honour the elves will play, any tune, you need but say. And you may dance the night away ere starry eve turns to sunny day.

Submitted by SylvanHuntress on
Dancing with the fey in the month of May, Sir, you risk much and without delay! Were you to pay the coin at the gyspy caravan the dark-eyed woman would say, you risk much for a happy day. I know not the road that leads to the Butterfly ball, I am unaquainted with it all. Immortal I may be but my soul has always danced free, companion to Oak and stone, to feather and bone. I have always danced my path alone. Send a carriage and I will come and dance to the sound of lute and drum. I'll read the runes and cast the dye and dance to the tune in your minds eye. I'll weave you wonders in the dance and 'tis true starry eve will turn to sunny day but still the magic will hold its sway. Delightful riddler I'm pleased we've met and I give to you a gift of jet to wear in remembrance of our meeting, be it ever so fleeting.

 

Submitted by Mangone on
Ah, sweet dancer I must be clear, we may only meet in dreams I fear. For though I think of you at night, I'm promised to a different light. I light less bright, yet strong and good, that I must honour as I should. A promise made, a duty born, a ring is forged but not yet worn. Yet, your magic has a special charm, conjures thoughts of us arm in arm. Dancing through the woodland glade; lovely elf and dashing blade. Music played on lute and drum, laughing walks in the Summer sun. Alas sweet Huntress it cannot be but I will always dream of thee.

Submitted by SylvanHuntress on
My dear riddler, a call to dance is hardly asking for a life romance! To dance beneath the moon in June is hardly call for a life's ruin! You do mistake my pure intent, a friendly dance is all I meant. The gift I give of jet so pure is simply given in kinship, nothing more. Rare to find upon this plane, elves or fey who do remain to draw the magic from life's well, so fear not friend, I seek not to alter the fabric of a life and seek not to bring you strife. To dance is all I ask, a free spirit who forgot to bring her mask to the Butterfly ball where elves make music for one and all. I wish you well and toast to your good cheer, may joy light your brow through the coming year and may the forged ring you bear glow with love year after year.