Kalypso

It's well written Ayshela. The main charactor does not have my sympathies. She thinks she's doing the world a favor but in reality she's being selfish. I was aggravated by the main charactor's thought process and actions. I knew someone just like her, maybe that's why. Please don't take this as criticism, it's actually a compliment in a convoluted way. You struck an emotional chord, although, it may not be the one you intended. Or maybe it is?

Rhapsody, thank you for the compliment. You're very sweet. Just so you know I derived my name from Homer's Odyssey. She was the sea nymph who kept Odysseus on her island for seven years. I don't really admire the charactor, I just really loved the name, although Homer wrote it as Calypso. The muses are named the following: Calliope Clio Euterpe Melpomene Terpsichore Erato Polyhymnia Urania Thalia I'm happy most seem to enjoy this piece. I'm pleasantly surprised. I think you're all being too kind!

It's well written. The "I" within the piece of works seems severely depressed as if his/her's life is spinning out of control and nothing can be done to save it. Suicidal ideation is never a good thing. If the "I" is the author, I hope you're okay. Poems like this worry me. *hugs*

It looks and reads much better. Nicely done.

I took your advise Peredhil, it worked wonders! Always easier said than done. I'm sure you all have had a hard time quieting an over zealous mind! Thank you for the understanding , and I look forward to forming friendships with all of you. Such a wonderful group you have here. *hugs everyone*

Congrats!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm sorry Peredhil, that was a big oopsie. I was a little tired when I wrote that. Had one name in my mind and typed another...didn't know fingers had a mind of their own did you? Of course you know that comment was meant for you. *grins sheepishly*

Wow! Beautiful poem Parmenion. I loved your interpretation of it Rune. Ayshela, I've never seen a more fitting response. You're all very talented. I strive to follow in your footsteps.

Amazing story so far. Lots of unique ideas. I'm looking forward to reading more.

What a touching piece of work.

I'm glad everyone seems to enjoy it. Thank you for the comments, they mean a lot.

Good Times Airy headed people dancing to and fro. Glazed eyes of elation help illuminate a glow. Dancing feet, tapping out a beat, Melodious rhymes entertain smiling mimes. Booming energy leads the elite from their seats. Good times halt as the big tower chimes. Heads hang low as people start to go, Trailing memoirs of happiness in their tow.

Tempest boldly plods over to Zariah, laps her cheek in greeting, and stands nobly at her guard. Kalypso, with her face flaming brightly, walks briskly up to the front of the room. "Oh my! Tempest! I turn my head for one minute and he wanders. Umm... you have a little something on your cheek let me help you with that. “ Fumbling through her bag she finds a cotton kerchief and wipes the streaks of drool from Zariah's face. She glares at the towering steed as she stuffs the kerchief back in her bag. Tempest nudges Zariah with his soft black muzzle, nearly knocking her chair over, and casually strolls out of the room. “Gosh, I’m so embarrassed! Truly I’m sorry about this. Tempest is kind of like an oversized, stubborn watch dog that has no boundaries. He really took a liking to you. Oh! I haven’t introduced myself! I'm Kalypso, and Tempest already introduced himself.“ She smiles sheepishly at Zariah and suddenly realizes that a whole room of people are watching. “Alright, well....I have to go...ummm find Tempest....I'm sure these wonderfully gracious people have something to say to such an established member as yourself. “ She hugs Zariah and whispers a quick apology in her ear before skittering out the door.

Quite morbid. My heart took a dive bomb at the end. I enjoyed it.

Author's note: This is just a short dalliance of mine. It's not meant to be a great work, I just thought it was kind of cute. It's okay if you think it's corny, I kind of think so too! I just thought someone might enjoy something light. An exotic enchantress glides weightless over a mead of mayflowers. As she's gallivanting she notices a young gent spying her solitary dance. As she draws near to inquire about his nosey tendencies she notices he has something cupped between his hands. “If you're not too absorbed in your ostensible observations, I’d like to know what you hold?” “It is a bee milady. “ “Surely you must be crack-brained to capture an insect that stings? “ “A sting is but a small price to pay for what I gain. “ “And what is it you think you're gaining sir? “ “A vision... that will lovingly haunt my eyes until death. A gift... so gratifying the mere thought of its existence is excuse enough to pursue it solely. Simply, a second glance is the sweetest nectar tasted in an otherwise drab world. “ “What does the bee have to do with this revelation of yours? “ “I'm surprised you of all people should ask that milady. “ “Why should my questions surprise you my roguish riddle-master? You talk in tangles! Please put forth your point! “ “Of course milady...Beauty is in the eyes of the bee-holder.

*smiles warmly as she passes* Good luck to you.

What a wonderful poem! I love old-age romantacism.

My living choice would have to be Steven Hawking. Spending time with family and friends I can make a reality with a little effort. My dead choice would either be King Menes or Galileo Galilei. I would choose King Menes simply because he was the first king of the 1st Egyptian Dynasty. Imagine how different things much have been back then! Galileo would have to be my second choice if I had one. First of all I would like to be the one to tell him his heliocentric theory was right, and talking to him would be absolutely amazing!

- Tempest rears high up into the air, exhaling orange streams of illumination upon descending, scorching the once glossy floor of the recruiter’s hall. He backs up to the farthest wall and scans the room for a possible ambush. “Oh my! He didn’t really mean that, he just doesn’t like the sight….umm the word s-a-d-d-l-e, “spells Kalypso, as her mind scrambles for a solution. She glances back at the stallion, and he immediately finds solace in her tranquil eyes and solemnly hangs his head. She notices the charred spot marring the floor and nonchalantly takes a few steps back towards it and starts rubbing at it with the toe of her shoe. “Look! It’s not so bad, it’s coming right up. A little lye and water it’ll be good as new. I’m really sorry about this. Oh I brought you these to thank you! I would have brought more but that little dwarf hustled me in here, never knew they could move so fast with such stubs….I mean stunted legs. I’ll just place them right here." She glides over to the desk, her own black footprints tracking her. She places several multicolored wild flowers upon the only vacant spot on the desk. She casually curls into a low curtsy, and notices a greenish hued flying aberration distressed over a loose Pegasus. The creature’s ears are a flurry of motion, which baffles Kalypso. “’Earspeak?’ I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Kalypso flexes the muscles on the side of her head, causing her pale pointed ears to move slightly. “I’m not even sure how you do that. I’d be willing to learn, if it’s at all possible. Oh, by the way, I’m Kalypso, and the big guy over there is Tempest…umm the horse, not the lizard, although you probably already know that. The Wyvern there just accepted me as a member.” She grins sheepishly at Wyvern as she looks around at the soot-smudged floor. Her eyes hold both apology and thanks. “Thank you again for accepting me sir. By any chance do you have a mop?”

*timidly peaks her head in the room* Adorable little story, and so easy to read. Kalypso

*Nods her head in greeting* You're brave for sharing something so revealing. I just hope it's one of those fleeting feelings in life. Defeat is such a tragic finale. Nice poem, I enjoyed it. Kalypso

Forebodingly she eyes the stone staircase leading to the entrance of the recruiter’s office. “It’s too shut in! They’ll think I’m mad! Or am I already mad for pursuing such a conquest? The walls…they leave no where to flee, we’ll be pent up like market day chickens. You don’t want to be trapped do you? You remember what it was like don’t you? Remember the solitude, the iron-ore walls that repeatedly taunted you with your own pleas. Your own footfalls being a sole companion, the only other sound was the drip, drip, drip; from an unknown source. Eventually the sweet sanctity of sanity starts to slip away. You wake up one day and view your former self as a lost ancient relic, and surrender to the depravities of circumstance; a circumstance influenced by others. We are the fortunate ones. Why am I doing this again? Oh yeah… loneliness. Not wanting to die only being known as compost for tree saplings. My words, my experiences, and my life would just cease if I did nothing. Who am I kidding; it was you who talked me into this! Let’s get out of here before someone sees us.” Tempest wags his head side to side and with a smoky snort slowly starts ascending the steps. “Wait! Wait! What do you think you’re doing! Let me down, I’m not going in there! That whole ‘Carpe diem’ thing yesterday was senseless swill!” The girl’s chest tightens and her stomach is seized by a whirlwind, she contemplates jumping off, but knows he’ll only scoop her back up and continue up the stairs. She cranes her head back to look over her shoulder and gazes longingly at the jagged outline of her woodland home peaking over the hillside. She faces forward, grips Tempest’s mane so tight her knuckles pale, and focuses on her current exploit. Tempest reaches the last step and uses his muzzle to push down the door handle, with a little nudge the large white barricade swings open silently, Tempest canters in. The echoes of clip-clop, clip-clop bouncing off the marble floor announce their entrance. A large wooden desk, with two neat stacks of papers partly occupying its surface, sits parallel to the doorway. A petite older woman sits behind the orderly desk looking over a white parchment; she glances up from her reading and looks a tad annoyed. She observes an unusual large stallion with fur comparable to the darkest black velour, with ominous eyes of swirling molten lava eddying into two circular abysses. The creature’s rump is dappled with multicolored oak and maple leaves that continue on up its back to a girl who’s rigidly sitting astride the beast. The reds, oranges, yellows and greens are woven throughout the girl’s hair with what appears to be thin vines, creating an elaborate headdress that makes her waist-length, redwood colored hair look like an autumn festival. A greenish hue paints the girls high cheekbones and small strait nose. The pale peaks of her pointed ears contrasting with the earthy fall colors threaded throughout her locks. Her anxiety-filled amber eyes darting wildly around the room, the girl looks trapped. The stallion dipped its head to the floor so that his nose was almost touching the cool shiny surface, and stretched his legs out as far as he could in front of him, creating a slope. The girl, taken by surprise, slid down rump first sending foliage cascading in her wake. Sitting awkwardly on the floor in front of the desk the girl, with surprising grace, rises to her feet. She fumbles with a burgundy pouch that’s cinched around her small waist and pulls forth a wadded up piece of paper. “Umm…ex…excuse me, I have sorta an application I guess. It’s right here.” With trembling hands she holds up the ball of paper, it slips from her grasp and rolls under the receptionist’s desk. The girl dives to the floor to retrieve it, and bumps the crown of her head upon emerging from the desk. She puts the wad on the top of the desk and watches as the receptionist eyes it distastefully. “I’m sorry about that, let me fix it. Got a little wet earlier, and well something got a hold of it, and then umm, well never mind.” The girl works out the maze of folds and places it on the desk, patting and smoothing the wrinkled paper with her palm, trying to make it look more presentable. The receptionist with her face flushed, abruptly puts her hand over the girls hand, grabs it, and removes it from the desk. She then takes the paper and places it on top of one of the piles on her desk. “That will be all Miss. Your application will be reviewed.” Relief washed over the girls face, bringing back her normal rose brushed cheeks. “Thank you, I appreciate it. I’ll be outside somewhere.” says the girls’ fading voice as she scuttles out the door with the stallion in tow. Out of curiosity the receptionist picks up the tattered application and reads: Taming of a Tempest By Kalypso Brewing deep in the pits of Satan’s glory lie’s an untamed gale. Its beauty mars the natural demonic décor of its dwelling. I look straight into the eye of the storm and feel its ail. Its turbulent force misunderstood by many, a plea for freedom begs its bellowing. Tis the spirit of the tamer that drives one to save a suffering beast. The tempest rears its deadly head, The fatal flames will ensure its lair’s fed, Tis in my blood to stand my tread, As I grow weaker I fill with dread, In a few moments, I’ll surely be dead. Before my last legs have been reached, I look into the eyes of the beautiful beast, Tranquility and peace is all that is seen, And I know I am safe for now I am its queen.