Hearthstone Manor - Writing.Com

To the Princess Bound (Kindle)
A gentle healer chained to a terrified princess by cruel decree. Bestselling P/N Romance

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[Introduction]

Welcome to Hearthstone Manor!

Please come in and take a seat. Get cozy by our fireplace, take a peek into our massive library, or simply relax in our elegant solarium.

Hearthstone Manor Residents:
Kitty Can Write

Beka - scrambling to catch up

Carol St. Ann

Liam

SixGun

Dave

Sum1

Vale-moms surgery recovery

Members of Hearthstone Manor are here for one reason: We are a group of individuals who love to write, read, and express ourselves through poetry. Submissions to our campfire creative should follow these basic rules:

1. Please keep poetry to E through 13+.

2. When your turn arrives in this campfire, please take no longer than one week to submit your poem. If you take longer than one week, the moderator reserves the right to skip your turn to keep the campfire moving. If at anytime you feel that you would no longer like to participate at Hearthstone Manor, simple contact Kitty Can Write

.

3. There is one major standing rule here at Hearthstone Manor. When you submit your poem, it must include at least one line that inspires you from the poem prior to your entry. For example, if you write

Line A
Line B
Line C

and I am particularly inspired or moved by line C, I would write my entry with my own poem, but include line C somewhere in my entry.

We are drawing inspiration and creativity from one another!

4. All forms of poetry are welcomed! Don't be shy about trying out a new form, writing in a familiar one, or submitting something free verse. Write what you feel.

5. Most of all, have fun! Read each others work. You are encouraged to save your entries in your port as well as post them here, though this is certainly not required! I just like this idea, because then the rest of WdC gets to see the brilliance you create as attributed to your port!

I would love to find ways to reward great poetry and consistent submissions. I will be looking for ways to do so, and will let the group know, should I figure something out

Please settle in and get ready for your turn around the hearth. I look forward to your poetry!

This Campfire is dedicated to Lawrence

, aka kansaspoet. Larry was an inspiration to me, a friend, and a mentor. Upon my return to WdC after two years away, I heard the news of his passing. Larry was an incredible man. He had the kindness of ten men and the patience of a saint. Larry would always stop to help the fledgling poet along with a new style or with a few words of positive criticism to help encourage and inspire others. He will be truly, truly missed. To read more about Larry and his amazing life, you can find his obituary, here: http://www2.ljworld.com/obits/2009/nov/25/larry-powers/ or visit his port. Some of his amazing writing is still there, though he had just returned to WdC after his own time away due to health issues. He was in the process of rebuilding his portfolio when he passed.

Rest in Peace, Larry. You are in our thoughts, always.

Flakes falling faster
As air turns colder
Waves of white winter
Cover the ground
Green fields become bare
Frost fills the still air
Fresh frozen ice glares
Silent, no sound.

Cherry Delight

Waves of white winter asunder my heart.
I cherish the tease of dawn's toffee-light.
Touch is a siren, she's eager to start;
To feed the hunger that knowledge will fight.

Lost lips of spite call me. Cherry delight.
Taste the rich nectar that sullies each day.
Do I dare kiss you, dare end my sweet plight?
Then deadly addiction, dark-love, you stay.

One smile I cling to, a beacon at night.
Two hands as soft as a pure babe at rest.
Star-jaded eyes know that candy is sight ...
Almost, I breathe in your sugar-clad chest.

Apricot light, will you thaw winter's bite?
Cage careless hunger, before she takes flight.

Liam

The Smile That I Hold

One smile I cling to, a beacon at night,
Utopian dreams in the eyes of a child.
Nourishing hope on its easterly flight
Embracing reunions of spirits more mild
The flourishing fruit of a garden restyled.
Exempt from despair and forever consoled
I sleep in the arms of the smile that I hold.

Carol St. Ann

Love's Touch

Yes, I sleep in the arms of the smile that I hold
Awake in the morn, feeling bright-eyed and bold
Enter the kitchen where reality so cold
Reminds me you're gone now, and my young heart feels old.

When the night's been serene, filled with mem'ries of love
I cherish your visit from a realm far above,
A walk in the morn, donning your coat and your glove
With my bare hand, stroke gently the wings of the dove.

Dark spirits still struggle for placement and power,
Love, you're a beacon shining down from a tower.
Deep breath. You're here. The fearsome demons must cower.
Together we'll walk 'long Heaven's shore this hour.

Castle in the Clouds

I sleep in the arms of the smile I hold,
My dreams are filled with my future foretold,
An elf prince will come and take me away,
Midsummer’s eve will be my wedding day.
The air will be filled with butterfly’s wings,
Petals of blossoms and bells’ tinkling rings.
I wave my hand to the loud cheering crowds
As I go to his castle in the clouds

We take the way through the garden of dawn.
Bright bead strings of dew do our robes adorn.
Gold sunlight sparkles our great diamond gems
And flowers spring from our soft velvet hems.
My elf prince, so noble, so fair and fine
So handsome, so wealthy and is all mine
I wave my hand to the loud cheering crowds
As I go to his castle in the clouds

We pass by the white tower in the lake,
Therein dwelt the lady he did forsake.
She was the dark dream weaver of the night.
I am the bride of the elf prince of light.
Upon our white steeds our crowned heads held high
We ride the silver path into the sky
I wave my hand to the loud cheering crowds
As I go to his castle in the clouds

Motif Psychedelia#1

The air will be filled with butterfly’s wings
As Mick poses sex and Paul cutely sings
Eric strums blues on his colorful strings
Psychedelia froths with Floydian things

Movement starts first at the shoe's helpless sole
A vibrant head-bob does the beat extoll
Pink around the ear, Cream fills up the hole,
Beatles squirm deep, and the Stones have a roll

Take the drug or not, but absorb the tune
For it will leave you for good all too soon
Ask John why life must be shot at the moon
He'll say we have but a short while to croon

SixGun

A ragtime refrain of a jug band clanged,
While fireflies danced and an old toad sang.
Where X marked the spot Rob dropped to his knees.
And with bile in his throat he begged Beelzebub "please."
Then out of a shadow and with the scent of decay,
Old Scratch emerged to steal Rob's soul away.
"You gave me your soul so I'll give you the blues.
"Just hand me your guitar and you'll get your muse."
Rob did just so and the devil took it in hand,
Then played the blues with a demonic band.
Now that was way back in '32 when Rob got his way.
That gave rise to many a star that shines even today.
Zeppelin and Stones and Dylan and Miller just to name a few.
When you enjoy their rockin' sounds, just give the devil his due.
Eric strums blues on his colorful strings,
But it's Rob's fateful deal that gave him those things.

I remember our lips, the first time they met
I could not have known how soon I'd regret
The piece of my heart given away on a breeze
Beneath a blanket of moonlight on that warm summer's eve
We lingered in love in that late summer night
Our bodies did meld 'neath the starts crystal light
Nervous touches, hot breath, love's seedlings sprang
While fireflies danced and an old toad sang
A piece of me knew you would soon break my heart
But the moment, so pure, felt a work of art
With a painter's brush poised, creating our lust
I gave everything to you on the wings of a dove
When the night was through, we parted our ways
And you promised to meet me in the coming days
But the magic had vanished with the shadow of night
I knew in that moment that try as I might
I was not yours to hold, you were not mine to keep
So 'neath that blanket of moonlight, I will let our love sleep

Green Levitation!

Beneath a blanket of moonlight on that warm summer's eve,
There came a dark notion that gripped Aggie's mind,
For lust was a tiger that gave no reprieve,
And passion dictated she covet her find.

A man with the makings bestowed by the Gods,
Though clearly affection was far from returned,
Rejection to Aggie was sharp, razored rods,
But did this witch anger when cravings were spurned!

So on to the brew; the cauldron of clan,
Her time-laden hips decided the spice,
While eye of the newt brought flavour of man,
The cupboard was sparse, and so she used rice.

Bubble and boil, the broth be beguiled,
One blasted concoction spat like a monsoon,
Through green levitation; elixir gone wild!
And Aggie just stirred with her rat-basted spoon.

Like any storm sated, the calm veils the scare,
And one crackled doorbell chattered on cue,
She opened the vault and found standing there,
A hot, dripping man-form of chocolate fondue.

Liam

Achilles

A man with the makings bestowed by the Gods,
Vitruvian scale cast in steel,
Commanding with fury his Myrmidon squads.
Immortal save only his heel.

Beset to deploy opposition to Troy
And savor its notable nectar.
Revenge for the boy, Patroclus was his joy,
Now he sought the destruction of Hector.

So thrice at the wall he did bellow his call,
'Twas heard round the whole Trojan city.
All day was their brawl until Hector did fall.
He slew him with no thought of pity.

Both feet he entwined to drag him behind
A chariot drawn by two fillies.
His corpse he maligned until all Trojans whined
The day they laid eyes on Achilles.

Carol St. Ann

Itty, Bitty, & Amos
or Death of a Spider...

There once was a spider named Itty
Who scared Mr. A. Bastor's Bitty.
Though it's cousin was famous,
This didn't phase Amos.
He slew him with no thought of pity!

Now, Bitt was the Mayor of Pretty.
She gathered her voting committee,
Who then argued and bickered,
From the dawn 'til stars flickered
And emerged from the room looking gritty.

Though it wasn't a biting arachnid,
It surely appeared to be wicked.
They designed a persuasion
To thwart future invasion
By It's brothers and sisters and web-kids!

"You're our hero!" cried Amos's Bitty,
"You've saved beautiful, spider-free Pretty.
With gratitude to you,
For courageousness true."
She gave Amos the Key to the City.

It Surely Appeared to be Wicked

It surely appeared to be wicked,
Surely, if I see it right, can it be?
Appeared to me and nothing to cling to!
To emerge some EVIL FACE, when it appeared
Be calm my heart, for its voice speaks surely:
"Wicked be to appeared surely it!"

The words create a perimeter of terror around the evil face,
And I am helpless -- (naked, sweating) -- helpless to rescind my fright!
I know the rigid cliffs of insanity is a place you dare not pace
Fall and be pummeled by waves of madness that exist to douse the light!

A word-train 'round the edge, a locomotive with a head full of steam!
Like in Times Square, the words parade -- up, down, left, and right.
Who's to say that to wake and walk in the world is not the real dream?
The smokestack belches in agreement, a vapor not innocent in white.

Come to The Insane! Padded room-service with blood from the spigot!
"You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave," says the nightman bright
A fresh new mind, an echo-claim, fading: "That face! It surely seemed to be wicked!"
"Relax," said the nightman, "We are programmed to receive. No need to fight!"

My own voice appears to me now for the last time, resigned.
It says to be calm and accept and not confined by clearer sight.
My eyelids droop and I stare into the evil face that is tortured and lined.
It's mine own, sunken eyes sparked to life, wrapped in a square message wound tight.

There is a moment where all lines are crossed and what was once ceases to be,
Where a pure mind succumbs -- and becomes! -- a wicked ravenous wight.
In the shadows before dawn on that night the face came to me,
I became another and cast away "before" with all his morphing might.

SixGun

Reality's Dream

Who's to say that to wake and walk in the world is not the real dream?
We're continually knocked asunder before we can work up any steam.
A daily nightmare of responsibility and heartbreak, panic and pain.
Take me to that place where memories of the day begin to wane.

Where we are free of the burden of swapping more hours for less pay
Where victories overcome losses and work is replaced with play.
Why can't reality be a renascence of subconscious thought and light?
Swirls of color cascading into gallivanting glows of flickering delight.

In my reality you always loved me and you never decided to leave.
I never learned about true sorrow, I never learned how to grieve.
In my reality the sun is always shining and the birds always sing.
Caterpillars turn into butterflies, and you never gave back my ring.

I could choose to live a horrid existence, full of misery and strife,
And dream about you loving me as the pinnacle of a perfect life.
Or I can live in a universe of eternal bliss with you by my side.
Saving the nightmares for the night, but having you as my bride

Dave

At the Dairy Queen

Dairy Queen swirls of color cascade
into the flickering glow of afternoon delight,
gallivanting around the serving maid
with the innocence of a neophyte.

Through the flickering glow of afternoon delight,
I gaze into a rainbow of cherry red lips and blue sky eyes
with the innocence of a neophyte
and try to initiate romantic enterprise.

I gaze into a rainbow of cherry red lips and blue sky eyes,
while licking a bubblegum-flavored double scoop ice cream cone,
and try to initiate romantic enterprise
so I won’t have to face this world alone.

While licking a bubblegum-flavored double scoop ice cream cone,
I gather the last remnants of my nerve and ask her out,
so I won’t have to face this world alone.
We’ll be happy ever after, without a doubt!

I gather the last remnants of my nerve and ask her out,
gallivanting around the serving maid.
We’ll be happy ever after, without a doubt,
as Dairy Queen swirls of color cascade.

A Guru Reflects … On Pumpkin Pie

He sat atop the emerald knoll,
His digits gnarled and bent.
What vision of simplicity!
This guru would repent ...

For all the years he chose to shed,
The turban for the tie;
For times he left the salad greens,
and squandered pumpkin pie.

His prune-like lips a solemn line,
Beneath a shrewd, still gaze.
Random thoughts of legs and lips –
Pure folly! But a phase!

Weighted now with wisdom,
Like a fruitful tree of skill,
But trekking of the higher ground
Was sapping his good will.

Nature was a treat and all,
But grass-blades sure do itch,
And lack of basic toiletries
Were proving quite the hitch.

Rest upon your knowledge,
He whispered to the wind.
With innocence of a neophyte,
My old life I rescind!

Search the bounty that awaits,
He told the summer's sky.
He didn't see the ants on march,
But soon he questioned, why!

His pants were loosely-fashioned,
And the ants had one desire:
To find a nest both warm and dry;
Quite promptly, things grew dire.

The Guru dropped his garment,
And he pumped his pole-like calves,
His spindly limbs a wiry whirl,
No sportsmanship by halves.

This life is overated!
He squealed at the sting.
And while he shook and shimmied,
Tough lessons, ants did bring!

Luxuries aren't all that bad.
A sinful life might fly.
Clothing has its benefits,
And grown men can cry!

Now you’ve gone

What is there left for me here, now you’ve gone,
Lost beyond the horizon far from sight?
An aching emptiness so fills my heart
Which strengthens with the fading evening light.
And then when darkness falls upon the sea
And the stars light up the heavens black dome,
I see the moon’s pale pearl face cool and clear,
Then I make my way back to my lonely home.
I consider how long you’ve been away;
The passing months turn into passing years.
You won’t come back, I know this truly now,
And bitter drops of rain are still my tears.
Weighted now with wisdom, my heart aches on
What is there left for me here, now you’ve gone?

I'll Wait For You in the Blue Sky

With need of mercy's soothing balm I call,
And the brewing storm responds with wind ...
For a gentle hour of calm, 'tis all!
But the gale a-comin', no peace will send.
Algae on the surf spreads a greenish sprawl,
And gusts push waves with their willpower white.
Lightning ties clouds in bundles to haul
Toward a soul that dreads the onset of night.

Lost beyond the horizon far from sight,
You dance and play, in their laps do you fall.
When the captain turns mean with fisted might,
On bleeding knees to his pleasure you'll crawl.
Sudden thunder recoils the sky with spite,
And on the wind I can smell you defend
Against sliding tongues that slither in tight.
To accept your theft, I'll not pretend!

With my strength and gods, no hope do they lend!
In my sandy fist the blade casts back light
From a bolt that begs my life's blood to spend.
A swift cut through the neck makes all a'right …
Hide your heart from them of what you intend.
For you, my lover, give in to the fall!
I'll wait for you in the blue sky and mend.
Lull them, mind them, then leap from their wall ...

ABABACAC CACACBCB BCBCBABA

Sum1

A simple poem, abab rhyme scheme.

Lost in Love

Lost beyond the horizon far from sight,
Lonely and cold, I sail into the night.
Winds blow southerly, yet northerly I go
Back to my beginning, under the stars glow.

I leave behind family, friends, and you,
All good things come to an end, this must too.
We’ve had our time together, happy as could be,
I know that I loved you, and you loved me.

But fate intervened, you finally left,
Leaving me so alone, my soul bereft.
You didn’t leave willingly, you tried to stay,
But lost that battle, and left me that day.

I sail away, our love bearing me on
My goal is to meet you in the life beyond.
I’ll search for you mightily, I will not fail,
That’s not an option, you’re my holy grail.

Meet me my love, in life hereafter,
We’ll sit by the fire, our lives filled with laughter.
You are me, I am you; our love we’ll not sever,
I love you today, tomorrow, and forever.

Dave

Aphrodite’s Chorus

Beyond the horizon, we’ll go together,
exploring possibilities,
arm in arm, through all kinds of weather,
seizing opportunities.

You’ll accompany me, in harmony,
through the work, the grit and the grime.
Heart to heart, we’ll never part,
withstanding the tests of time.

While Cupid plays his lyre, we’ll sit by the fire
and share a life filled with laughter.
Aphrodite’s chorus will sing of the life before us--
me loving you forever after.

When this life is done and Gabriel comes to call,
we’ll waltz across heaven,
just like we did at the Christmas Ball
when we were seven.

The Gathering*

Honor and pride glow in all cat's eyes
Beyond the horizon, we’ll go together
Beneath Silverpelt on the full moon's rise
Enemy clans gather together as allies

From the proudest warriors to tiniest kits
Beyond the horizon, we’ll go together
Atop the Great Rock, our leaders sit
Together as one in the evening mist

Sharing tales of clan losses and victories
Beyond the horizon, we’ll go together
New apprentices wait, eyes filled with glee
To gather around the peaceful Fourtrees

The moon is high, the time has come
Beyond the horizon, we’ll go together
As our separate clans converge as one
Forest cats come calling, it has begun

____
*forgive me, I’ve been obsessed with the Warriors book by Erin Hunter lately

Symphonic Love
An Aubade

I meet you when the moon is high,
below a jewell-emblazoned sky.
I'm nurtured by your tender hands,
that heat me just like desert sands.

We make a bed of blossoms sweet –
Let's fling the sandals from our feet;
And nature's troupe will synchronise,
A ballad sung to sad goodbyes.

I nuzzle in your welcome arms,
And know the night with all his charms.
The way he woos the placid moon,
With laughing stars; they wink and croon.

Again, he loves the time we spend,
His cool breath says, their hearts will mend.
Like dew-clad grass, we're heaven-kissed,
And taste again our tortured tryst.

The moon is high, the time has come,
When morn' will kill the crickets hum.
The day begins with shards of light,
To dull our soul's symphonic night.

Liam

A Glimpse of Glory

In search of them who prophesy
of times and seasons drawing nigh,
I gaze on garish gods of yore.
Below a jewel-emblazoned sky,
eternity's profound decor.

They orchestrate our circumstance.
Performing their celestial dance,
to melodies of singing spheres
that mark the course of our advance
in journeys through the endless years.

What marvel at the ill-effect
of suffrage born to our neglect.
So - wherein lies the fault?
How wondrous are the Architect's
designs contained in heaven's vault.