#5 The Princess

| November 5, 2011 | 0 Comments

She doesn’t say much as she moves through her day.

She doesn’t sleep, she’s a princess they say.

Others say goddess in hushed, hurried whispers.

Still she moves on through the town, never lingers.

Sometimes she stops in a deep contemplation.

She stares into space for enigmatic revelations.

Her fingers ascend and they light on her pendant,

She smiles, or frowns, even laughs for a moment.

She always appears at the sun’s first small light

A quiet transformation from her role in the night.

For when twilight enters and evening bells sing,

as soon as sun’s gone she turns back to a ring.




Category: 2011, Fantasy

About the Author ()

Just a young whippersnapper who's interested in writing. >..<" I do a bit of poetry, and sometimes I write short stories when I have time.

Leave a Reply