Last Commented Fantasy/Science Fiction Poems (811)

Fields of green undulating
Ebbs and flow
Silence of the summers day
Heat rises

Warming the soul
With white flowing wings
Halo above
Long flowing robe
White to touch

Flowing blue sky
Field full
Games played
Bathing waters
Rest at play

The white gates bekon
but not today

I know him to be a child of shadow. His will parts the veil between the mortal world and that of misty dreams. His eyes seduce me to question everything I’ve ever learned. I speak to the trees and never pass herb or flower, without quizzing myself as to its name. Each stone I step upon has a history beneath it, and there it has lain in wait for countless moons, holding its secret. My willingness to ask in silent contemplation, brings answers to light and therefore truth. Or is it not but magic?

He speaks to me of beauty, bathing my mind in its perfection. He speaks and becomes a body of water that flows with and through me. He smiles until my face shimmers with rays of the golden sun. But for all this,
I see his skill with darkness and chaos. He could neither say he was man or immortal. Magic is like air to him and I beg for more of the wisdom he might impart.

He teaches me to feel time in its movement, the pulsing of stars, the peaceful lapping of waves against smooth sand shores of my own mind. He makes me question how well I know season, element, earth or my own heart. The affairs of man have long since faded in this place of fantasy and have no dominion. I drift, further and further into him. Every ounce of darkness must have equal measure of light.

Merlin, you say when I harness this understanding, I shall know balance in all things. I feel whole, quenched and serene in the arms of the moon and its song. But wait...the veil now seams itself together and the familiar sounds of the life I knew, returns. Not a dream, I reason. Not a dream! If so, then I have dreamed many lifetimes in a single night. But it was so...

I was dreaming late at night
When the shadows were leaving me behind
There was a white light, full of stars
Many angels were singing, they were kind

There was a cloudburst, flapping wings
And an old dog napping by a fire
I watched sailors, drunk on whiskey
And the smell of rubber, burning tire

I saw lonely hearts buried in the sand
And a happy fish jumping from the sea
And mermaids strumming guitars
And children swimming around a tree

In the moonlight, a maiden singing
And a tree full of hungry cats
Watching red foxes roasting chickens
And a man chasing after his hat

I saw rainbows chasing thunder
And a young boy panning for gold
And some rain drops making puddles
Dusty birds all waiting so bold

There was a horsefly playing fiddle
And a cow jumping into the sky
On a wood pile full of crickets
Was a little girl waving good bye

And a bus full of angry people
Telling me life is all a bunch of lies
Like a dead horse reeking badly
From a stomach full of swarming flies

I was dreaming, late one night
When the shadows were leaving me behind
There was a white light, full of stars
Many angels were singing, they were kind

I’m sitting by the lake shore, in the middle of the night.
Staring at the moon and the stars that shine so bright.
Seeing nothing but his face inside my mind’s eye.
Listening to my heart race, as I have to wonder why?
Is it him I really want, or essentially just the thought?
I do not know him for we have never actually talked.
He’s the lover from the books and the savior of my dreams.
The hero of the movies But why is it nothing is ever as it seems.
I know he’s real he’s been close enough to touch.
His dark hair and dark eyes sometimes seem too much.
But it’s my courage I am lacking, when it comes to approaching him
I don’t want to dive in the deep end I’m afraid I have forgotten how to swim.
So he’ll stay the distant, silent fantasy with in my mind’s eye.
Something pretty to look at and dream about as I stare into this night sky.

You know it is there but you just can’t see it
No matter how quick you turn, it is gone again
But if you just glance out of the corner of your eyes
You can just make it out, it is there

But no-one believes me; they think that I am mad
‘Crazy Lizzy’ is what they call me behind my back
They think I don’t know, but I can hear them
And see the circling finger at their temples

One day they too will see these creatures
One day they will break through the wall
The wall that separates their dimension from ours
That day they will see ‘Crazy Lizzy’ is not mad

Move, like cat hiding from light moving with shadows waiting to strike with mighty sword in hand and Percheron blade don't blink twice he will Avead black as night from east he slays the demeans held with in theses walls with one swift strike the dragon will fall wisdom of ages is the power he holds the secrets of the ninja cant be bought nor can be sold walking on water with nails beware spreading his magic and floating on air

It was a few days later that I heard a lot of raised voices. My home was surrounded by a mob of angry men shouting obscenities at me.

They called me an evil old witch. Claimed that I had tried to eat their children. Right there, in the middle of them, was Hansel and Gretel egging them on.

“She tried to cook us,” shouted Gretel, “the dirty old witch. She said we were going to be her dinner.”

“We would have been,” added Hansel, “if we hadn’t escaped.”

I did not know what to say, not that they would listen anyway. I feared for my life. I had shown only kindness to these children and this was the result.

“Burn her, burn her, burn the witch,” the chant went up.

Now I knew I was really in trouble. They tried to get into the cottage but I had built it too sturdy. They had gathered faggots which they set alight and threw at my home. It did not take long before my home was ablaze.

The only hope I had was to go down into the cellar. Luckily there was a vent where I could get fresh air whilst my home burned to the ground. I stayed there for hours hoping that they would not find me.

It must have been the next day when I dug my way out of the cellar. There was nothing left of my home, nothing left of my life. There was nothing even to salvage.

I packed what little food from the cellar was suitable for travelling. With heavy heart I set off to I knew not where. I could only go deeper into the forest and hope that they thought I was dead.

I know how the story has been told. Hansel and Gretel are made out to be the poor innocents when in reality they are evil children. It is no wonder their father had left them in the forest, hoping to be rid of them.

Just because of a medical condition that makes me look unpleasant I have been victimised all my life. I can only pray that this sets the record straight and exonerates me. Edwina Rose Callista Ashwood.

At the break of dawn I set off into the forest. In places it was almost impassable and I had to fight my way through the undergrowth. The trees were so tall that I could not see the sky. I had no idea how far in or how long I had travelled when I came to a small clearing. It was only then that I could see the sun was already low on the horizon.

It was there that I decided to make my home. There was enough room to build a cottage and the soil seemed suitable for planting a garden. Here I could be self sufficient, away from humanity and their cruel taunts.

The first year was very hard. I had only a small axe and the rest of the tools I had to make by hand so that I could build my cottage, but slowly it went up, log by log. Mud was a good insulator for the cracks in the walls and the roof. It was hard work but when it was finished I was proud of my accomplishment.

It might not have looked the prettiest, but it was warm and dry and a refuge from the elements. In my eyes it had a certain charm, it was home.

During this hard year I had subsisted by trapping rabbits and by picking varies roots and berries. The few seeds that I had brought I planted and could now enjoy.

Life here in the forest was good. Now I had ample food for my needs and had even dug a cellar to store my excess. Any extra meat I dried and stored, this way it would keep forever.

I lived this way for a number of years. Forgotten was the cruel way I was treated in the village, here I had found peace and contentment. I thought that nothing could interfere with my life anymore.

One night I was sitting quietly in front of my fire when I heard strange noises outside. I had learned to ignore the noises of the forest but this was different. Next came a banging on the door. I had to see what it was. When I opened the door there stood two little children, a boy and a girl. I expected them to run away screaming but they just stood there with tears streaming down their faces.

“Please,” said the boy, “I am Hansel and my sister Gretel and I are lost. My father took us into the forest and just left us here. Please help us.”

What was I to do? Naturally I invited them in. what a mistake. I gave them food and water and even offered them my bed to sleep in for the night. They were so tired and worn out that I let them stay for a week to regain their strength.

I told them that when they were strong enough I would help them find their way home. On the eight day when I arose I found them gone. I searched the surrounding area but found no trace of them.

I am so sick and tired as being portrayed as a bad person, as the villain. For years stories have been told about me, making me out to be ever so evil. They even try to convince people that I like to eat children. It is time that the truth was told, that my side of the story was heard.

Well, I suppose that my story starts as most stories do, a long, long time ago. My life was pretty much ordinary. I lived in a small village and as a child was quite happy. I played with the other children of the village and had quite a few friends.

That all changed when I became a teenager. I contracted some sort of rare disease that changed my skin. Almost overnight my skin turned into something that resembled scales. My friends deserted me and no longer wanted to come near me. How cruel people can be, they called me all sorts of names. When I walked around in the village the little children ran away in fright.

I was still the same person on the inside. I still had the same hopes and fears. Still had the same dreams although I could see they would never happen now. Why did they treat me like this? I don’t know why I was cursed like this, but cursed I was. My family tried to stand by me, but it cost them dearly.

My father was a shoemaker, the best shoemaker in the county, and day by day his business dropped off. They would rather go to the next village than to deal with him. They didn’t even bother to make excuses, they were quite open as for the reason.

My mother was the village midwife, she was the only midwife within four hours of travel, yet they would rather do without than to call her. They were in fear that she might curse their babies merely by her presence.

It was at this point, that for their sake, I had to leave the village. Maybe once I was gone they might treat my family more kindly. As for myself, I did not care, I had become immune to the behaviour of the villagers. I had passed the point of being able to be hurt anymore.

Bright and early in the morning I said my tearful farewell to my family. One last hug and I set off, never once looking over my shoulders. There was nothing there for me anymore. My parents, I would only cause them more grief by staying and all my friends I had lost a long time ago.

All my worldly belongings were in a rucksack slung over my shoulders, that and the clothes I wore. My destination was the forest that lay just a days walk away towards the east. I was hoping to find peace there, away from any fellow humans.

That evening I camped on the outskirts of the forest for I was not foolish enough to venture within in the darkness. In the morning I would be able to find may way around and somewhere within there I would make my new home.

I, Horatio Martin Stobbard, can no longer live with this secret. I must write this down and hopefully someone can use it. I work for a top secret organisation called F.A.R.T. We are an organisation that operates outside the government and the law. Most of the electronics we use have never been heard of.

We have some of the greatest brains working for us. Once they have been recruited by us they effectively disappear forever, they are never allowed to leave. The secrets that we have discovered are so incredible that they would rock the very foundation of human belief.

Contrary to what everyone is taught, the earth is not round, it is actually flat, or slightly convex to be precise. How is this possible you ask? Why has not anyone found out before? Surely it would have been discovered when planes fly around the world.

Not so. The earth is surrounded by a rather peculiar magnetic energy field that, unknowingly to the observer, keeps you away from the edge, giving the appearance that the world is round.

It was only when we accidentally invented a device, which we call a Spectralingulazor, that we were able to negate this magnetic energy field. To our surprise we travelled past the edge of the world and even underneath it. There is nothing there. No skies, no stars, nothing.

Not far beneath the earth we came to a complete stop. We had reached the end of the universe. It was like hitting a blank wall. There seemed to be something beyond this wall but we were unable to make any sense of it. Everything was too blurred.

The universe is not infinite. Once we had overcome the magnetic energy field the shocking truth hit us. In every direction we hit a wall. It was as if we were in a container, I can only liken it to a fish tank.

Up till now, we of F.A.R.T. are the only ones aware of the truth. This magnetic energy field disguises reality and gives the appearance that the earth is round and that the universe is infinite. It is not.

I leave this document in the hopes that someone will find it. I know that they are hunting me for they do not want the truth to be known. They believe that this knowledge will bring about the end of mankind.

I, on the other, hand hope that this will unite all to work together to seek the truth out there.

Horatio Martin Stobbard