Squashed Sonnet

Gourds

Freckle Goblin wriggles under gourds,
tired by a night’s divine carousing.
Freckle dreams of youthful fun in fjords.
After chasing ghosts, he can’t help drowsing.
Boom! He wakes to sulfur scents and peril.
Freckle peeks. He spots fair Glisten Rue.
“Enemy!” he hisses, turning feral.
“Flee, you witch!” he snarls. She pouts: “Listen, you
ruined parties, chased a lovely spirit.
This will be your Halloween goodnight!”
“No, my lady,” Freckle shouts, “I fear it
will be you destroyed!” He swings his right.
Acorn squash, gourds and pumpkins tumble.
Mashed and bashed, she flees. Trip and stumble!
Goblins rule on Halloween night —
even scary witches flee with fright.

Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham

Pumpkins

Notes:

Happy Halloween!

The first 14 lines of this is a sonnet, rhyming ABABCDCDEFEFGG. It didn’t feel quite finished to me, so I threw in a bonus couplet for those trick-or-treaters reading to the end. For the meter nerds in the crowd, it’s written in trochaic pentameter. In plain English, each line has ten syllables, alternately stressed and unstressed, with maybe a few variations. It took DAYS to write!! Now that’s frightening!

This is linked to the Third Annual Spooky Writing Challenge at the Writing Works in Progress Blog. Also, this is my entry for Poetry Friday (if a bit late in the day), hosted this week by Check it Out. Yeah for poetry! Thanks to all the great poetry writers and fans in Poetry Friday’s crowd!

Poetry Friday Badge

The Lost Magical Power

PurpleMeadow

Jason had a secret, and he did not tell anyone. He knew how to keep a secret. He knew if he walked behind the bush in his backyard, he would be on his secret road. Every time he walked on this road, it took him to a new place.

One very windy day, he took a step on his secret road while his father was talking to the neighbor. The road carried him through hills, down valleys and over stone bridges. He followed it until he heard singing.

“I’m a sprite day and night, my feet are light, and my eyes are bright. The sky is blue, the wind smells new, but I don’t know who could be so true,” a pretty voice sang high and sweet. Jason saw the sprite, slender as a willow branch and dressed in all the colors of the valley. She had a red dress like one hundred roses, blue tights like river water, and green bracelets like rings of grass. She was dancing and twirling in a green meadow surrounded by purple flowers and Queen Anne’s Lace. She stopped singing and dancing when she noticed Jason, standing on the secret road. “Hello. Are you true?” The sprite asked Jason.

“I don’t know what you mean,” answered Jason, feeling a bit confused.

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