Wednesday, March 21, 2012

World Poetry Day

Today is. And I haven't written a poem in too long. This, I suppose?

Once upon a Time

I love the old stories
When I was young, glories
Beautiful little things of light.

I'm older, know older ends
The wolf at the door doesn't always die
It's not always alright.

(I knew dragons, but not in my tales
(Didn't know how to speak without veils.)

Red died, sometimes.
Before then, she was clever.
(The trick with the rope around the tree.)

Rapunzel's witch was strong
She wandered with twins
(Her he saved, then him she.)

Beauty wasn't always smart
But she was always a hero
(Sacrifice, endurance to earn her glee.)

The old stories are always important, I think.
The dark can win--yet we try, still.
And, important to me, if a subtler hill:
Stories of women's strength are older than a blink.

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