Sweetcherrie

And this one was worth a 'bump', I still like it

*frowns* Not sure how to read this...but I do see a couple of lines that could each become great poems... Oh, and I liked the 3rd one *giggle*

Congratulations to Azuran, NightFae and Evangeline Oh, and thanks to Ozymandias for a great post to announce these promotions

reverie: I would like to remind you that not all of us are equally strong in commenting on the techniques of poetry. This is something that might demotivate people to even comment on poetry any longer, because they might feel that they are not strong enough to say something, so they say nothing. May cows change to fish if I'm wrong, but isn't feedback from all levels appreciated? And shouldn't we also accept the feedback from someon who simply says 'I liked it' thankfully? Simply because this person took the time to read and respond.... I don't always know which words to use to describe a poem, and I certainly have no idea about all the technical aspects of a poem, but I still hope this doesn't mean I'm no longer allowed to post feedback.... To Mira: There is little I can add to what others have said, but I hope that even a simple 'thank you for posting and trusting us enough to let us read your work' is received well.

I absolutely love this poem. The words tumble down and pulled me down through the stanzas, leading me and guiding me. I can read many things in it, and it really gives me that itchy feeling inside of wanting to read it again and again. Sorry I'm not more cohesive. I found it hard to give any feedback, but didn't want to leave this one without saying something. Thank you immensly for posting this, I really enjoy reading it, even though I can't seem to express my feelings about it too clearly

Beginnings and endings lie in front of me, like ten little balls of wool. Frumbled together. As if a little kitten played with my red line. Unwinding my life, mixing up the threads with other colours. From where it has once begun until where it will all, End. New line: Just a bit

I really like this one. It gives me the shivers as it forces me to stand still with the thought that nothing is forever. Nothing will stay the way it is right now, and this can sometimes make me sad. At the same time, each step forward is a good one, since it means you live in the now. Tomorrow will never exist, and yesterday is dead already, so best live with the now since it's the only time we have. Though....wouldn't it be nice if we could capture certain moments in a jar, and relive them when needed?

Congrats Patrick

That morning, before the contest started... This was definitely the most boring morning little Sweet had had since she had come to the Keep. Already she had knocked on Appy’s blankey, but her friend was probably out to play somewhere else, and all the other places the little girl had looked the doors had stayed closed. Her magic pens lay scattered on the floor around her, and she sat on her half-finished drawing of Moose; she couldn’t get the nose right anyway. With a bored gaze she stared through the room, and suddenly she heard a soft voice singing. The words were unclear, but it was very clear that whoever it was had great joy in singing, but sucked at it. Curious now, and because she had nothing better to do any way, Sweet got up and followed her ears to the singing voice. As she glanced around the corner into the Conservatory she saw an unfamiliar kid dusting off the chairs and tables in the room. Her first instinct was to bounce over, and introduce herself, but a little voice in her head said to wait and see first. As the kid turned around Sweet could see that it wasn’t a child at all. The person cleaning the Conservatory was a woman, a woman as tall as herself, but clearly a woman. Perky little breasts peeked in the girl’s top, and her whole figure was rounded at different places than Sweet’s. Little pointy ears stuck out from under the bonnet the elf was wearing over her brown golden hair, and as she rinsed her cloth she resumed singing. Cleaning is our pride and joy Dusting cloth our favorite toy We will not complain or grouse While we’re cleaning in your house Wipe all dirt off And you’ll see How we’ll come to clarity Sweet giggled at seeing someone so obviously enjoying themselves with cleaning, since this was unthinkable for the curly haired rascal. The elven lady put down her cleaning cloth, and walked over to the bin on the corner to take the full bag out. As she tied it together she continued singing. Cleaning is our pride and joy Rubbish bin our favorite toy We will not complain or grouse While we’re cleaning in your house The elf changed melody, picked up the full bin bag and her cleaning cloth with bucket, and walked with them towards the door, when she looked up. Spic and Span Spic and Span All belong to the big plan Of Spic and- The bucket almost slipped from the elf’s hands as she noticed Sweet, and froze on the spot with a shock. Her lower lip started quivering, and her voice sounded scared as she spoke to our little red bouncy ball. “You’re not going to tell, are you?” Sweet flashed one of her kindest grins at her, and for a very short moment she thought about not telling in change of a clean bedroom, but then she shook her head. “I won’t. But, who are you?” The elven lady put the bucket and bin bag down, and walked over to Sweet with an outstretched hand. “Shanai, household elf, nice to meet you.” Sweet shook the hand wildly, letting out her canned up energy, and bounced around the elf. “Why are you here?” Shanai looked slightly taken aback by the direct approach of the little girl, but recovered quickly, and smiled widely. “I’m here to clean, but it’s a long story, and I’ve got more cleaning to do.” She moved to pick up the bin bag and the bucket again, but was almost knocked out by the force of a Sweet huggling her. “I love stories!” The bouncy girl explained, “Tell me, tell me, tell me, please?” Shanai giggled. With her 177 elven years, she was barely a woman herself, and the giggling Sweet had gotten her giggling as well. “Alright then, but only if you help me clean after.” The smile on Sweet’s face disappeared and was first replaced by a big frown as she was thinking, and then by a grin as she decided that the cleaning work would be worth the story. “Alright then,” she said, and plopped down on the floor, ready to listen. Shanai neatly folded her green skirt under her, and sat down across from Sweet. With a soft voice she started her story. “And that is how I came here…” Shanai pulled a toenail clipper from her pocket and showed it to Sweet. “I’ve regretted it since, but here they hardly even notice I’m around to clean up the mess, and I do it with great joy. Especially the Conservatory gets nice and dirty at times, just last week we had a thing called Ugh Bah in here, and my oh my, it was such joy to clean up after him. He had left all these big slimey pats all over, and-“ She rambled on a bit, and together with Sweet she giggled about other cleaning stories. In the end Sweet even had fun cleaning up the bin bag, and as Shanai told more stories the little girl cleaned up her pens and neatly folded her half-finished drawing away. It seemed our rascal with golden curls had found a new friend. OOC: Thanks to Gwaihir and Mirrizin for randomly giving me a topic to write about, and for naming Shanai

Brings near what’s far From passed the stars But just to change our p.o.v. Why not try…a cup of tea? Topic: a cup of tea

*giggles* Been reading these from the start already, and wanted to thank you for posting them here. I really liked that last one, excellent example of how far you can take a misprint *grins* Thanks Yui

Shanai Elf, 4 feet tall, brown golden hair, and green eyes. Shanai is a household elf and will not be seen too often without a cloth in her hands, and most of the times she’s polishing something…or someone. She loves doing this, and although she’s fairly young (only like 117 years old) she will attempt to mother over everybody. She’s a very promising household elf, and will probably graduate as top of her class. Oh…she loves singing…unfortunately. Strength: Fair Dexterity: Fair Constitution: Good (1 point) Wisdom: Good (1 point) Intelligence: Fair Charisma: Good (1 point) Skills: - Cleaning – Superb (5 points) - Walking past a dirty spot without stopping (in case of emergency) – Mediocre (1 point) - Bouncing – Great (4 points) - Enchantment (Getting rid of door to door salesmen) – Good (3 points) - Enchantment (Making people clean their own things) – Fair (2 points) - Singing – Mediocre (1 point) - Sewing – Great (4 points) - General Cooking things from Scrap – Superb (5 points) - Kiss and make better (well a bit at least) – Superb (5 points) - Shoo birds away (or people) (especially handy in vegetable gardens) – Great (4 points) - Hunting dust bunnies (also works when hunting real bunnies at times) – Great (4 points) - Craft (egg warmers) – Great (4 points) Owns: A broom, a bucket filled with cleaning stuff (cloth, sponge, several sorts of scouring cream, window spray, etc), a flint stone to make fire for cooking anywhere and everywhere, a herbal pouch with a range of herbs, and a small med kit with plasters with funky pictures on them. Something like this? Edit: Changed according to Quincunx's post. (I can't count)

Sweet, the little girl would love to go on island discovery... She'll even pack an extra pair of red dungarees Are we simply supposed to post into your other thread? And btw, great to see you this active *hugs* does my Pen heart good

Board is being a pain lately and has been offline a couple of times in the past days. This looks like the server error I've been getting in my screen.

Somehow I get the feeling that this lost love is on her way back? I like this, though at some places it flows a bit like a twisty river...you don't see the bend coming, and the words flick your raft upside down. Pretty cool experience, but after the second time you're wet enough.... Still very much appreciated this, and there were a couple of lines that touched the heart, thanks

But is a little bit of positive hope not better than a negative certainty? This is the question I ask myself whenever I get into these moods, and while in the mood the answer is most always 'no'...though once I find myself back, and able to actually think straight, the answer is forever 'yes'.

*waves* Good to see you posting again, should do it more often Nice poem btw, can see how it would've won

Funny the first time, and second time I read it, it felt as if the person had died, and you were saying goodbye to this person. I like the err...not sure how to call it, but in rhyme? Oh well, I like how it rhymes within the sentence. Thank you for posting

*nods* it does have a certain rhytm. nice Oh, there's a double the, third stanza, first line...is that meant to be there?

Gryphon asked me to post this for him. The pen has been down for a while, and he really had to get some sleep, so he will post the lynching in the morning, his morning...should be in about....6 to 8 hours from know, I think

For an onlooker the office was probably the weirdest place they would ever see. Each side of the room was covered with bookshelves, but on the book shelves there were no books, nor were there any files. Instead each shelf had a little box on it, and each box had three drawers. Most of the drawers were labeled with weird sounding names. Names like yoddle, sag, booger, and groin, but some of the things, like cake or intake forms, actually made sense. The walls were so full that one could actually feel the bookshelves crowding in on him, as if they were leaning over, threatening to get you when you would turn your back on them. In one of the corners a bald penguin was nervously twitching his wings, eyes flashing from side to side. One could wonder what the animal was doing here, but as soon as the doorbell rang you would know. At the sound of the bell to penguin would start jumping in its corner, and it would then wobble over to the door. It would stick its beak through a small crack that also served as mailbox, start flapping with those same wings as if it was about to take off in flight, and then its beak would fall open and it would produce a ticket with a number for those waiting in line. Onghus had found him on one of his travels to the South Pole, and had taken a pity for the shivering animal. The poor thing had been standing separate from his group, an outcast for not having feathers. But no tickets were needed this late afternoon, today had brought a special case. This afternoon two special visitors were sitting in his office, and Onghus didn’t like what he was seeing through the crack in the window. He’d been looking for excuses not to go back inside yet, but finally he’d run out. After all, it had been his spell that had made the mess, so it would have to be him who would untangle it. This still didn’t mean he would have to like the situation, and upon his return from dis- and re-emboweling a greedy frog, (re-emboweling after he had emptied the intestines from the various objects the frog had swallowed, why did a frog want to swallow Lego heads anyway?) he had decided to observe the situation beforehand while standing outside, looking in through the crack in his window. Melba had been huffing smoke for an hour already, and each time she hiccoughed, dog hairs circled up into the air to land into her lap. Onghus was pretty sure what happened there, but Frktl looked more like an empty shell. The dragon, or well the body of the dragon, had been staring straight ahead for almost half an hour now and never even blinked. There was no trace of the witnesses yet, but in his years as magistrate he had learned that witnesses usually took their time. Of course in his years as magistrate he had never had a spell that back-fired this badly. Sure, when he had been a younger wizard he had made some small mistakes. Like the one time he had accidentally changed a flower fairy into a grounded fairy by changing its wings into gold. He still told himself that he was not to blame; the fairy had wanted to be rich, and beautiful, and had asked for golden wings. Of course the moment Onghus had happily changed its wings into solid gold the fairy had fallen like a rock to the earth, and the wings had broken off. But, and this he was certain off, it had been the fairy’s fault for not properly defining his request. This though, this was an entirely different case. He had been at the house of mother goose when it had happened, and had just been working to get some tar off a swan that had been stupid enough to walk through the wrong gate, when the spell he had been using back-fired. He had felt it back-fire as well, it was like a little electric shock. The swan had been white again, but somehow Onghus knew that something had gone terribly wrong. The moment his secretary had pinged him on his palmtop, Onghus his uncomfortable feelings had been confirmed. In her email she had described shortly what had happened, and that the witnesses would be coming to his office that afternoon. She had also added that she would take the rest of the day off, as a pre-caution. The wizard hadn’t like that part one bit, but could understand that she didn’t want to be around when Melba arrived. She had been in one of Melba’s classes, and hadn’t been the best of students. Onghus watched the dragon and the teacher more closely, and was heavily trying to convince himself to go in, when someone tapped on his shoulder. Onghus turned around, and stared at a piece of rough, dark green fabric. Slowly, he directed his gaze up, and up, and up, and up…and looked into the face of Moonga. The half-giant looked down at him with a wide grin. “’Ello meester majisterrrr.” Moonga had once been in France, and had loved the accent. Ever since the half-giant had started dressing better, smelling less, and he rolled his r’s. “I ham yourrrr weetness meester majisterrrr.” “Oh my dear lordie lord,” flashed through Onghus’ head, “This nitwit is supposed to tell me what happened?” But to Moonga his words were calm and weighed out, after all he was not the young wizard anymore, he was the magistrate, and had years of experience backing him up. “I see, Moonga. Well, shall we go inside then?” The half-giant nodded, almost wiping a tree out as he moved his arms along with the nod. As they walked towards the entrance together they formed a pretty duo. Moonga with his twelve feet, his dark green trousers, and pink blouse looked humongous next to Onghus. The wizard was what you would call, small, but only to be polite. In fact, he was tiny. He’d always had his robes tailor-made, and they were always bright azure with black stars. He found that as the magistrate you had to look presentable, and this was also the reason that he wore his long white beard braided, and even kept it in a beard warmer during the night to not get the hair all tangled up. Moonga apparently couldn’t resist, and he pressed the doorbell while Onghus opened the door, slamming it into the face of the bald penguin that had just been wobbling over to spit out a number. With a soft wooshing sound the penguin flew backwards and hit one of the bookshelves, taking a whole lot of little drawers with him in his fall. Onghus clasped his hand tighter around the doorknob, and shushed Moonga, who’s expression had started to go from surprise to sad, to almost crying, before he would have the half-giant sobbing on his knees how sorry he was. “Don’t worry Moonga, it’s ok,” Onghus said softly as he picked up the penguin, but thought instead, “Half-giants are such wusses.” Moonga nodded and turned around. Frktl and Melba were still sitting at their respective places, and the half-giant oogled brightly at the dragon and the school teacher. “Mizzz Melba gone.” He exclaimed with a big grin on his face, “Frktl zid ‘poof’ and Mizz Melba gone.” Onghus looked from Moonga to the fuming Melba, and then to the dazed Dragon. “And where exactly did Frktl ‘poof’ off to?” The half-giant started clapping in his hands, almost causing more bookshelves to tumble down. The bald penguin fainted, and the empty dragon shell fell over. With two enormous hands he picked up Melba, and held her up in front of Onghus, almost pressing the old lady’s body in his face. “Frktl inszzide errr.” Onghus cringed as Frktl’s eyes inside Melba’s body spat fire at him, and a string of smoke came puffing from her left nostril. “And where is Melba?” With a swing Moonga put Frktl in Melba back down, and waved his hands around his head. The lamp that hung from the ceiling flew through the window and the bald penguin, who was just starting to come by, fainted again. “Melba gone evrrrreeeewherre.” Moonga’s hands were now swinging as wide as he could get them, and Onghus prayed he would at least keep the roof intact. He got a weird feeling inside his stomach, and didn’t want to but had to ask. “What do you mean everywhere?” The look of pride disappeared from the half-giant’s face, and was replaced by a frown. He brought a finger; about the size of Onghus’s his lower-arm, to his lips and seemed to think. Onghus almost started applauding, feeling strangely honoured to be present at the rare occasion to see a half-giant think, but held his breath for fear of disturbing Moonga in his thought process. Then a grin appeared on Moonga’s face, and he grabbed the bald penguin from the floor. “Zisss Melba, desk Melba, butterfly…Melba, you zeee?” “Oh dear lordie lord! This is worse than I thought at first.” Onghus sank down in his chair as he desperately tried to oversee the consequences of what Moonga just told him. Fixing Frktl back into his own body would be easy, but Melba…everywhere, oh my dear lordie lord. “Onghoos not appy?” Onghus shook himself mentally, and looked at Moonga. He shook his head sadly, “Onghus not very appy, no.” He got up slowly, and with a wave of his hand the dragon was back in his own body. Frktl opened his mouth to breathe fire, but Onghus held up a commanding hand. “Later, now I will have to find a way to solve the other part of this problem.” He turned his back to Frktl and Moonga, and it was clear that the magistrate wanted them to leave. The dragon looked at the half-giant with contempt and breathes in Onghus neck, “This is not the last you hear about this,” before taking off in flight through the window. Moonga only pulled up his shoulders in a shrug, and pressed his overly large body out through the front door. When they had both left, Onghus turned around. Absent-mindedly he surveyed the utter mess in his office, and picked up the bald penguin. Dusting the poor animal, he muttered in despair, “Melba everywhere…oh lordie lord.” Edit: Edited the verb tenses since I was obviously drunk or something when I wrote this first, and though the little penguin is very bold, he was mainly meant to be bald.

I like it The wording is nice, and it clearly tells you're fed up with it. I can only hope that you and this person will manage to clear things up together. Thanks for posting

Sensual and tender, I like indeed the simple wording, but still saying so much, and showing so much within those simple words. I think the line runs better now as well Thank you for sharing

Through the air a strike of gold can be seen? Is it a plane? Is it Superman? No, it's wonder Troy! With his wings folded in the phoenix dives down and lands next to Gyrfalcon, With his beak he nudges the ranger, and drops a small package at his feet. A note is attached to the front, and with elegant letters Gwaihir's name is written on it. The bird coos softly, and trusts the ranger to deliver the package correctly, and takes off again. (OOC: Happy Birthday Gwai, I might just tell you at a later time what's in the package )

Just a little something that happened in IRC....(edited out some things that had nothing to do with it ) Sooooo.....I did *grins* As for the block...keep writing is my advice. I find that on and off you have periods in which things come out entirely not the way you meant them, but if you keep at it...and simply shrug at the parts you like less, it will feel better again after a while. Wyvern is right though, writing should be fun, and you should really only write if you're enjoying it But know at least that we enjoy reading it, and having you around here....no matter what you write *hugs* thanks for the poem.