Young Writers Society

14.
in our undercover garden
we hold clandestine meetings
between the daisies and daffodils.

there’s something about this
that no one knows,
just the group of us
lying in the flowers.

we talk about blossoming and
petals and the nectar of life,
the thorns in our side and the
way we root ourselves in the ground.

15.
Born of river and spirit of the trees,
heart of lead runs the other way--
close her eyes and turn her head,
disappear into the forest and
escape to her roots.

16.
I am your mirror:
your laughs make me giggle behind
a hand;
you look at me close up—“is this what
I look like?”
I am fleeting, unreal, but in your pieces of glass,
in the crystal clear,
by the bank of the river where the
water meets the shore.

17. racing marbles
when we were young,
and the muses watched us with
subtle smirks on their faces,
we raced marbles
(mine: purple,
yours: blue)
between the cracks
in the cobblestone.

we stumbled after them,
palms and knees pressed
against the ground
chanting for our crystal balls
to reach the end of the path first,
where the stone turns to grass.

after that, my marble sat
on a carved wooden shelf,
besides books on old literature
and ancient architecture,
catching my eye whenever
I reached for one to study—
and for a while, the chants
and heart-thumping excitement
of my marble crashing
into the grass first
flew back to me.

these days, my purple marble
lives in the back pocket
of my pants,
a small force of a reminder

18. forever
sitting on a swing with no
dreams between, both eighteen.
will this moment last forever
or will it fall short whenever?

ring me on the phone when we’re
both at home, nervous unknown.
will this moment last forever
or will it fall short whenever?

burning in the sun, rocks skip
one by one, cotton candy spun.
will this moment last forever
or will it fall short whenever?

19.
breathless, senseless,
where from the clouds cry
starless sky, no compass.

20.
quiet yourself in your secret fairytale.
this celestia starts with once upon a time,
shining stars, twinkle stars,
prince and damsel in distress.
the stars map the lines of
your poem: happily ever after
supernova

21.
the ballroom spotlight shines down on
a single dancer, amidst gloved hands
clasping gloved hands.
in the background, a harp plays a
solitary tune, and while the dancer waits
to be struck by an arrow,
the figure sways back and forth
to the laurel-lonely melody.

Really enjoying these soft fairytale-like descriptions and scenes Eternal! Poem 15 is one of my favorites, you pack a lot into short quick lines, and you had great usage of sound devices in poem 18, especially:

burning in the sun, rocks skip
one by one, cotton candy spun.

AH! delightful!

You're right on track to getting to 30! You've got this!

@alliyah ah thank you so much!

22. Melpomene
everyone in the room recounts
their memories in the gardens,
or drinking wine and dipping bread in
oil with Melpomene;
they cry and nod in mutual understanding.
I want to share I, too, am friends
(or enemies) with Melpomene,
but I am unsure, and besides,
now they’re talking about
their next visit to Apollo’s temple.

23.
Deer in the forest,
Unassuming, quiet;
talks with the chipmunks and
sparrows in the deep of the wood.
Nothing to fear and nowhere to go

24.
The hills roll into tomorrow,
the ones we pass are
days that have gone by.
Rolling green and golden gleam

25.
a candle flame,
a burning, beautiful reminder
of the years to come and the
years left written in journals
blow out the candles--happy
birthday

26. Erato
shot right in the chest with a
red-feathered arrow;
wander around with rose
petal footprints (they grow
under lots of sunshine and
good spirits),
hide and seek in the ruins
of a temple of Venus,
where admiration and beauty
are embraced like a hug.
it is here at the ruins where
their love is ruined;
a splinter, a fracture in the
arrow in the chest in the ribcage
in the heart.