The Writer

A Poem by Allie

He was writing the next bestseller he claimed, One with a thousand plot twists and turns, One with seventy two different characters, And glittering ice that burns.'

He was writing the next bestseller he claimed,
One with a thousand plot twists and turns,
One with seventy two different characters
And glittering ice that burns.

He said girls became the aggressive ones,
He said the boys all had long hair.
He told of pirates meeting elves and thieves
And a tortoise who lived up eighty four stairs.

He mentioned seamstresses that lied through the night
And prisoners who sold the day,
He said trees held hands holding clouds aloft
And people shapeshifted as if made of clay.

He said birds always flew backwards
And the stars shone red and green,
He said spiders and snakes were mans best friend
And the world's in the palm of the Fairy Queen.

He told me fairy tails didn't exist
Everything you thought a lie was true,
He said sometimes gravity switched off altogether
And the one person that can control it all is you.

He told me that flamingos live forever
And dinosaurs stand four foot high,
He said I'd better believe it's all true
He said see it in your minds eye.

So I watched and I waited
For the moment to arrive,
For the epiphany to dance at me,
For the worlds to collide,
But the sky remained blue
And the stars shone pearly white
The trees didn't have hands to hold
And I couldn't quite
Understand.

I couldn't connect the dots
The gaps remained like chasms
They gaped and I could not
Fathom what was going on here.

Because he hadn't written at all.
The pages were empty parchment
Like a sky bleached at dawn
Waiting for the colours to wander and arch.

But he spun the tails as he aged
His stories persisted unfolding.
The fey carried him away one day
Into a place where he'll never grow older.

He told of the talking toadstools
He laughed during his sleep,
His eyes were alive and unnerving
And he stopped recognising me.

But the trees held him softly
Murmuring stories into his ears
Speaking of a land far away from here
A land where the sky had cleared.
That day he smiled his last forever,
The day that life removed his fears
Was the day they finally took him
The writer at the end of his years.

© 2017 Allie

Author's Note

This is a collection of a whole lot of thoughts that sort of don't fit together, but I suppose that's sort of the point

My Review

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Featured Review

Shy Joe

Well, you have quite the imagination. The second stanza was my favorite. You rhymed well. Not only that, you told an entertaining story along with it. I am glad you sent a friend request my way.

"And a tortoise who lived up eighty four stairs." That still slays me. Thanks for sharing.