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...

some time ago
there was a old man
his name was Santa Claus
and he and his wife
was so sweet and kind,
with a white head of hair
and a curly gray beard
he sat day after day
rocking in his chair,
just to pass the time away
Santa loved children
and Miss Claus too,
Santa sat the day away
thinking what could he do
for Christmas
for all the boys and girls,
Miss Santa said
get out that old sleigh
and on Dec. 25th that very special day
when Christ was born
gather up some gifts
and give them away,
Wow what a thought
Ill call it toys for tots,
so Santa gathered up a few rain- deer
to get ready to take off
and spread some holiday cheer,
It made him think of baby
Jesus born in a barn
and his mother Mary lay him in hay
the wise men bought him gifts
it made Santa smile,
as he took off
grinning all the while,
that how I heard Christmas began
Santa just doing what the wise men
would do
bring toy to children around the world
also to spread the word about Christ
he died for our sin
thank you for reading my made up story,
it was all written for the little children
and to tell them about God and his
Glory,

"Destination Unknown"
John Norrington joins his friends. As the storm is approaching
the Columbia they attempt once again to return to their own time
and home in England.The mist engulfs the ship and the wind
becomes gusty, Captain Owens and his crew are ready for any
immediate manuever they may have to handle to keep the ship
on course. The ship slows then stops, things seem to appear
normal, there is Dover Harbour. The ship now heads in to port,
John Norrington and Bill Jenkins disembark from the ship and
travel by stage coach to Norrington manor where they are
greeted by their servants and staff.Hours later Bill Jenkins
goes on duty at the hotel pub, only to notice his adversary
Jack Wild standing at the bar, Jenkins slips out the back
door for a moment to tell John Norrington about Wild's
presence, Norrington could not understand that Wild is still
free undaunted by Jenkins being present. Only one conclusion
can be made, is that time travelling had brought them back to
an earlier timeline. He also realises if this is the case his
wife may still be alive,so he mounts Warrior his horse and
rides out to visit her two miles away in their summer residence.
He dismounts then goes inside. He notices her in her armchair,
they hug each other. Norrington knows now that the stage
coach tragedy is just hours away and the location where it
is to take place. He tries to tell his wife not to travel
by coach tonight and to go in the morning instead, but
she does not want to do so because she would not have
much time with her mother on her birthday, as she is
travelling to Somerset the next day, and her ship was
leaving very early. Norrington knows now he has to try
to stop the coach from crashing over the cliff. The coach
is now ready along with it's cargo of gold, the dignitaries
are prepared to leave and Norrington also boards the coach,
being part of the original passengers. The coach then leaves
on time. As it approaches the fateful bend the Wild's outlaws
attack. The coach pulls up and Wild has his gunmen hold the
passengers at gunpoint. Norrington must act quickly, so he
leaps at Wild and knocks him from his horse to the ground.
Norrington pulls out his gun as the outlaws fire at him
gunning him down. He is lying motionless.......
Has Norrington been killed ?
Will the Black Dove save the coach from destruction ?
Don't miss the exciting final conclusion in
Part 12 ...."Terminal Paradox"
Posted the 1st January 2014

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

This is the place where all come
Here and now they gather
Everything must come to an end
Life force slowly trickles out
Others flow like a river

Some depart so very young
Then others so long to linger
Only the gods answers have
For them it’s just a game

There they sit and wagers make
Employing their godly wiles
Roll the dice, rack them up
Remain in charge for down below
Everyone is a looser

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.