Fantasy/Science Fiction Poems (811)

Time moved on and before you knew it one year had passed since that time down in the cellars. Of course the Queen had totally forgotten about the promise she had made. Her life for the last year consisted eating and sleeping. She had grown so big that there was no room in bed for the King so a second bed was placed near hers.

Many a wife thought that this was a great idea to get a troublesome husband out of their beds. Once out of the marital bed there was suddenly a lack of marital duties performed. This was a period of time the called the dark twin bed ages. Some husbands banded together and invented what they called the ‘King size bed’. This bed was much wider and many husbands reclaimed their marital rights. But this is another story altogether.

Right on time the wizened little man presented himself for his promised reward. All year long he had been waiting for this, to claim what was his due. It had taken weeks for his fingers to heal after that night. Even now there was some scarring still evident.

“I am here for my promised reward,” said the man. “You may present me to the guests as Rumpelstiltskin.” A smile lit up his wrinkled face at the thought of the festivities to come.

As mentioned earlier, she had completely forgotten about her promise. Now suddenly the thought terrified her. What if he was to let on to the King the truth about those nights. Surely the King would be so angry at being deceived that he would torture and kill her. Or even worse, deny her food until she faded away into nothingness.

As all these terrible thoughts ran rampant in her head, suddenly a plan was formulated. Not only was she fat, ugly and lazy but also without the slightest twinge of conscience, and as devious as a sewer rat.

“Please Sir Rumpelstiltskin can you take my baby out into the garden and let him enjoy the sunshine with you. While you are doing that I will arrange a grand reception befitting a fine man of your high station.” On and on dripped the words of honey until
Rumpelstiltskin had no choice but to agree.

Again, as the night before, the wizened little man arrived. He could not stand to see her so unhappy so out of the goodness of his heart he once again agreed to help her. All she had left was a ring on her little finger. This seemed to please him and she happily handed it over knowing that once again she had cheated death.

Same as the night before he sat himself down at the spinning wheel, muttered some sort of incantation to himself, cracked his knuckles and started spinning. In went the straw and out came the gold.

Far into the night he worked. Straw after straw he spun into gold whilst in the corner the miller’s daughter slumbered. So deep was her slumber that enormous sounding snores escaped the room and roamed the castle. It was whispered amongst the servants that surely a dragon must reside down near the dungeons.

Finally after many gruelling hours of work he finished. He looked totally exhausted and slowly raised himself from the stool. A quick look around to make sure he had not missed any and he was gone.

When the King entered the room there was no hiding the greed that shone forth from his eyes when he saw all the gold. Surely he must be the richest man in the entire world. When he looked at the miller’s daughter she looked almost ravishing to him.

It was at this point that he decided that he would give her one more room, nay, he would give her the entire cellars to fill with gold. Should she succeed he would make her his Queen. If she failed, then alas, she would die.

The day was spent in feasting, much like the day before. Today though the miller’s daughter was outfitted with the finest of clothes. Clothes fit for a Queen. The Ladies of the court tried not to show their disgust as the King fawned over her. Every time the King kissed her it was all they could do just to keep their food down. However the King was totally oblivious to all this. To him, through his gold affected eyes she was beautiful and desirable.

All day long while the feasting was going on the servants were busy filling the cellars. Room after room was filled with straw, from floor to the ceiling leaving barely enough room to walk in.

That night she was shown the cellars. Fifteen huge rooms in all, and the prize if she succeeded was to become Queen. Should she fail, the death she was promised was more horrific than she could ever imagine. As the King and his guards retreated she fell to the floor. This time her wails were so loud that surely every castle ghost was awoken.

She was so relieved that she curled up and slept for the rest of the night, knowing that she was safe. The little man had saved her. In the morning when the King arrived he was astonished. There was gold from floor to ceiling and in the middle of it all slept the Miller’s daughter. Where once there was straw now there was gold. Shiny, yellow gold.

Now, she was still as ugly as she had been the night before, but somehow, all this gold seemed to make her less, shall we say unappealing, to the King’s eyes. Greed for gold seems to have that power. In his mind he was calculating how much richer he had become overnight. His calculations placed it in the region of 150 Duros ( equivalent to approximately 75 billion dollars of our present day money.)

This amount of wealth staggered him. Only the Kings with the largest of kingdoms might come close to this, and lets face it, this kingdom was rather small and had been extremely poor. His mind went into overdrive digesting everything that had happened.

All day the Miller’s daughter was wined and dined and kept in absolute luxury. She only needed to hint at something and it was instantly brought to her. One of the greatest delicacies that could be had was Mountain oysters (sheep balls) and due to their rarity reserved mainly for the King and sometimes his favourites. These she consumed by the dozens. There were bowls of Durian fruit and mangosteen, aronia berries and camu camu berries. In fact she was denied nothing and given everything her heart desired.

Never before had she lived like this. Strange and exotic foods that tempted and pleased her palate. Wines of the finest kinds from all over the known world. By the end of the day for the first time in her life she was almost full.

That night the King took her to a room that was twice the size of the one from the night before. Like before the room was filled with straw. Every nook and cranny had straw in it , there was barely room for the spinning wheel.

Once again she was ordered to turn the straw into gold, or she would die a most horrible death. A death so horrible that she would not be able to imagine it. As like the night before, when the door clanked shut, she collapsed.

Again tears flowed from her eyes as sob after sob shook her body. On and on she cried as before, praying, pleading, and once again she swore that she would change if only someone would help her.

As night started to fall she became more desperate. It was rumoured that wild animals roamed the night. These animals were so fierce that they could devour a fully grown human with one gulp. She did not want to verify the truth of the rumour. Now there was only one place left for her to go. She would have to walk to the castle and throw herself on the mercy of the King. That she would walk that distance showed how desperate she really was.

By the last light of the day she hurried to the castle. She only just arrived in time, had it been a few minutes later the drawbridge would have been raised. The heavy gates creaked open as she was given entry. For once luck was with her as the King would see only one more supplicant and she was the one. She was shown into the Great Hall of Justice. There the King sat on his throne looking ever so regal.

Immediately she fell to her knees with her head on the ground and started wailing. Tears were streaming down her face making a puddle on the floor. The sobs became louder and louder, echoing throughout the hall.

The King sat there astonished. He was totally flummoxed. Who in the name of all the Gods was this ugly creature. Never in his life had he seen anything like this. Admittedly, he had led a sheltered life, never venturing past the castle walls, but this thing, it was the height of ugliness. Even his pigs seemed pretty in comparison.

“Please your Great and Noble King, our Lord and Master, The most Supreme Ruler, please help me. I have no home and I am starving.” By this time her hunger pangs were most excruciating. She had gone for four hours without food. “I will do anything that you might require. Please give me food, I will do anything.”

The King was getting more and more disgusted with this creature. He was ready to have her thrown over the castle walls. He did not even want her in his dungeons.

“Bah! Unless you can turn straw into gold you are no use to me.” This statement he thought was rather funny. He let out a small laugh. The Ladies of the court laughed. The nobles of the court laughed, the knights laughed and the Jester laughed and capered about.

By now she was so desperate for food that she was willing to say and promise anything. “Your Royal Highness, I can spin you the finest gold out of straw. Anything at all for you my Lord. I will spin any amount you want but I am too weak. If only you give me food your Graciousness I will do it for you.”

“Did you say that you can spin me gold out of straw?’

Suddenly there was instant silence in the Great Hall. The Miller’s daughter was too concerned to notice what was happening, to realise what deadly ground she was treading on.

This story, as all these type of stories begin, happened once upon a time, in a land far, far away. It is almost lost in the mists of time. There lived a Miller and, as far as Millers went, he was not a bad fellow. His only vice, if you could call it that, was that he was rather fond of a drink and at every opportunity he enjoyed one, or more.

He did not own his own mill but leased it from the King. Not that this stopped him from being jolly. He was rather round and laughed most of the time. He was jollier still when he was imbibing.

The only bane in his life was his daughter. She was fat and to be truthful rather ugly. Now you might say that saying this is not nice, well, if she stood next to a donkey’s behind the only way you could tell them apart was that the donkey has a tail. Her chin had multiple chins and her face was covered with pustules and her upper lip had the makings of a great moustache.

I should also mention that she was lazy. Lazy is actually an understatement. She was loathe to leave her bed, except when it came to eating. Were it not for the fact that food was not brought to her bed I believe she would have stayed in there. Grunting and groaning she would drag herself out of bed and make her way to the kitchen. Once she had eaten she would make her way back to bed, to rest after her exertions.

The Miller was at his wits end. What to do? How to get rid of her? She was eating him out of house and home, there was barely food left for him. When it came to eating her laziness disappeared. Bowl after bowl of food vanished, straight down her gullet. The situation was getting so bad that he was even running out of money for drinking. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

It was her habit that when she finished eating she would go outside for nature’s call. When she went outside to use the outhouse he locked the doors and barred the windows. To her surprise she could not get back in. No amount of begging and pleading or crying moved the Miller to open the door.

Repeatedly she walked round and round the house looking for entrance but it was securely locked and shuttered. She tried approaching the neighbours but they knew her habits only too well. They quickly locked their doors also and barred their windows. Nobody wanted her in their house.

In places the ceilings were sagging giving the appearance that they were ready to fall any time. There was still furniture, although it was covered in mildew, rubble and dust.

The stairs creaked ominously as I slowly ascended. Although the stairs appeared to be quite solid I still took extreme care. It would not do to break my leg in here as it would be a long time, if ever, before help would arrive.

The last set of stairs leading to the attic were a bit rickety, but I managed to get up there. At the top of the stairs was a corridor leading to the back of the house. I was not interested in that, only the door facing me which was to the room I had seen from outside.

I had to really exert myself before the door gave way and opened. What had I expected? Not what greeted me. It was just a plain room with a double bed and a rather large wingback chair. This floor of the house had fared better as there was less rubble however dust was still piled everywhere. I settled down to await darkness.

As the sun settled and the house cooled there were creaks and groans throughout the house. I knew it was only the house expanding and contracting, all very natural. What was not natural was the light coming from the corner.

Slowly the light solidified and I could make out that it was a woman. A spectacularly beautiful woman, albeit a ghost, nonetheless a stunning woman. Ever so slowly she moved over to the window and stared out. As she moved away from the window she wiped her hand across her eyes, as if wiping away a tear.

I had never seen anything like this before and I was rooted to the spot. As if becoming aware of me she turned towards me. Her piercing blue eyes stared into mine, stared as if looking deep down into my soul.

Her face broke into a smile, more than just a smile, it was an expression of utter joy. She put her arms out as if to embrace me and as she did she slowly faded away.

I know it sounds improbable, even impossible, but in those few seconds I had fallen deeply in love. How can you fall in love with a ghost? I don’t know and even now I still ask myself that question, but somehow I felt as if I knew her and had known her for a lifetime.

I came back night after night but never saw her again. I felt I had lost a part of myself, an important part. For nearly a year I returned every night, until the demolished the house. Time had moved on and so I had to also. Some things have to be relegated to memory.

Slowly I became aware of my surroundings again. Nothing had changed while I was musing over my memories. Old Mrs Beaumont still sat exactly in the same position as before even though the best part of two hours had passed. She had probably wet herself by now, as is her wont.

Still too early to go out for a walk, to escape, so to speak. No good rushing this, they will only catch you and then give you sedatives to “calm” you. Another memory might kill some more time.

My eyes wander around the room, it’s a pleasant room as far as rooms go, but it’s a room in a retirement home. Light flowery curtains and matching flowery lounges and chairs. I’ve never been a lover of flowery furniture, it reminds me of old people.

The old people, well they are sitting here staring off into space. Waiting. Waiting for what? The next meal, or the next visit from their families, the visit that never comes. Or possibly just waiting for death to tap them on their shoulder and beckon them to follow.

I didn’t want to be here, did not belong here. Yes, I probably was just as old as some and older than others but this is not where I should be. My home burned down while I was shopping, came home to smouldering ruins, everything I owned was gone. I had nowhere to go so they shoved me in here. Bloody governments, always take the easy way out.

Here they don’t even let you go out for a walk in case you get lost or you get hurt. You are like a prisoner in maximum security. The doors all use a code to open, not that anyone ever tries to leave, they just sit there like zombies, but just in case someone does. Little do they know that I already know the code. When I am ready I will go for a stroll.

In the meantime I cast my mind back over my life. So many memories, good, bad and indifferent. It gives me pleasure to pull one out, dust it off and examine it from all angles.

I remember an old house, not sure if it was built out of stone or brick, but I do remember that it was rendered with grey cement render. It was three stories high and derelict, situated on an acre of overgrown grounds. No-one ever went near it for strange things were said to happen there.

I have always been drawn to the unusual, the not so normal. For days on end I would find myself near the house, looking through the overgrowth trying to glimpse the house. I fought my way through the garden to get closer to the house. The house just sat there like a huge brooding animal staring at me with sightless windows. I saw nothing there to cause me alarm.

Finally I decided to go there at night. As I approached the house I could feel the hairs on my nape rise. Something was different. Suddenly I saw it, a face at the attic window. I could not make out whether it was male or female, just a pale face, almost white.

My heart was beating so fast I thought it would escape my chest. I almost passed out before I realised that I was holding my breath. Slowly the face turned away from the window and was gone, not to return that night.

The next day I decided that I had to return to the house and enter it. I would go in while there was still daylight and await darkness up in that attic room.

It was easy to enter the house as a rear door had been left ajar. The reputation of the house assured that no-one would approach let alone enter it.

Inside the house was in a sad state of disrepair. Plaster had come away from the walls and lay scattered on the floor.

"The Masked Avenger"

Lamont and his men seemed badly outnumbered as the soldiers

burst through the barricades, shooting and killing indiscriminately.

Norrington realising the situation is desperate and decides to leave

the battle zone so he could once again become the Black Dove.

By now Garcia's men had captured the remaining survivors and

marshal them to a temporary enclosure until they can arrange

to move them back to Mexico for trial. In the dead of night the

Black Dove attempts to rescue the men from the enclosure. There

are three guards present making it impossible for the Dove to

rescue them, so the Dove sneaks past the guards and into Garcia's

tent. Sword in hand, He now forces Garcia to sign a declaration of a

new bill to be passed by the Mexican government, stating that

Monterey is to be withdrawn from Mexico now under the control

of the North America government, meaning the Mexicans have no

rights to the farmers' and landowners' wealth. The Dove now has

this declaration stipulating the Mexicans are now on foreign soil

and will be imprisoned if they do not leave. Garcia and the

Black Dove step out of the tent to give the order for his men to

free the prisoners and remove themselves from their lands.

Lamont and the prisoners cheer as the Black Dove finally has the

whip hand over the Mexicans. Lamont asks the Dove to reveal his

identity, who responds by saying he stands for justice and his identity

must remain a secret, and rides off into the distance. Making a Circle

and riding back he becomes John Norrington again and rejoins Bill Jenkins

on the journey back home. Boarding a coach they travel to Monterey

harbour, where they board the ship 'Columbia' making it's maiden

voyage, it's destination being England. The ship leaves the pier and is

finally at sea. The weather is cold and the sea is calm as the 'Columbia'

goes out to sea. Norrington and Jenkins fall asleep in their cabin at last

after there exhausting ordeal. Up on the deck the captain senses something

is wrong with the ship. As the weather picks up to a squall the ship gains

amazing speed and then a strange mist engulfs her. By this time the

ship is travelling at an amazing speed of 2000 knots, and then she slows

down to almost dead stop. Once again they are in a harbour, but where are

they? It is daylight again, it only having been night just for an hour before they left.

Where are they now ?

What alien force controlled the ship?

Make the discovery in Part 9...."Voyage To Where"

The music fills the air soft and slow,
she feels the soft silk of her skirt caress her thighs as she moves, her feet arched in the high heels makes her legs look pretty, her soft curls fall around her shoulders swaying as she moves.
The muscles of his shoulders under her hands ripple as he moves with her, his hands secure on her hip as he swings her slightly his arms cradle her, she feel like liquid flowing with him as they dance.

Lost in his arms, flowing where he leads, she feels the music become a part of them and her body moves where he and the music want it to move.

I had a dream... At first no color no sound...
But graying mist all around,
Stone that was cool to the touch
Making me feel that the sun had just gone down,
I wandered around the still now darkened garden
My instinct telling me that a treasure was soon to be found
And there... pressed against the stone I found the bell
And on it I laid a finger.
As I prayed for an answer
Soon silently the portal opened
I stepped in side a dimly lit chamber
But you were not to be seen.
With a dainty step I moved ahead
Sure I would have no regret..
Strains of music playing hauntingly
But as yet not a single being.
Drawn yet not pulled, called yet no one spoke a word
I walked on
Till steps descended
and there before me, you were
Seated on what appeared your throne
At once I knew, I had found you...
My Master, My Lord...
My Love forever true.