Dashing Leaves' Poetry of the Forest

[Dashing Leaves]

I'm going to be using this to put all my poetry, whenever it comes out... If that's okay.

My first poem is called "Yea".

Yea, so the blood of my fathers is now cold as ice,
still the gold that my mother put into my soul is still warm as the stars in heaven above.
And though I wonder this realm alone,
I wonder to myself – this could be heaven, this could be Hell.

Yea, so I walk through the hills of the dead,
and with my heart low, drag them along in the fiery breath of Hell.
I know this to be the will of all those before, and after,
I think to myself – this could be life, this could be death.

And this is one of a series of poems that aren't related, but follow a theme: "The Sidewinder Dreams of Other Worlds".

Yellow and blues.
Greens and reds.
All different hues,
of the Sidewinder's moods!

The Sidewinder slithers,
the Sidewinders dreams,
the Sidewinder hisses!
The Sidewinder winds through dreams.

And the Sidewinder chuckled,
deep in it's slumber.
As the Blue Boy Through walked with the moon!
"Hee hee," the Sidwinder chuckled, "Hee hee, you boy here are dumber!"
And of course as we all know, the Sidewinder is the best of all insults.

"Ho ho, a challenge of wits you say!" the Blue Boy Through said,
and the moon chortled in joy as it watched from above,
the Sidewinder opened it's one eye, as Sidewinders do.
"Oh yes, a challenge of wits I do say!" he declared,
and the Blue Boy Through grinned for his wits were challenged by no one.

So the two sat in front of the Grand Elm Tree, and pondered and pondered,
until finally the Sidewinder grinned.
"Here is one, Blue Boy Through,
that'll leave you stumped till the day is through!"
and as he spoke the Blue Boy Through leaned in closer.

"What is it that,
more often than not,
dreams of other worlds
while winding through dreams,
and yet always awake
and always asleep?" he asked, and Blue Boy Through stood in his thoughts.

"Dreams of other worlds,
while winding through dreams?" asked Blue Boy Through, and the Sidewinder nodded,
his long slender body moving in form with his head.
The Blue Boy Through looked up at the moon,
at night's noon,
and thought and thought and then some more did he think.
And what do you think, it is that he thought?
Well, of course, the answer to the Sidewinder's riddle!

"The Sidewinder itself of course," Blue Boy Through answered triumphantly,
and the Sidewinder's face dropped. "How did you know?" asked he.
"The Sidewinder dreams of a better life, but yet winds through dreams. And while asleep he has but one eye closed – because he is only ever part awake," answered Blue Boy Through.

And the Sidewinder nodded, knowing his due.
"Well I too,
have got one for you!" sad Blue Boy Through.
And the Sidewinder listened.
"What more often than not,
In fact all the time,
that always seems to be
just out of time?" he asked, and the Sidewinder thought.
But Blue Boy Through's riddle was not done!
"And also, it's hands,
which know the time always,
are never there in time for tea?"

The Sidewinder thought it was nonsense,
he couldn't figure it out.
He thought and he thought,
he bit his lip,
his body moved in and out of shape as he hissed and sputtered.
"Can I have three guesses?" asked he, and Blue Boy Through nodded.
For that was how the game was done.

"Is it the moon?" he asked,
as Blue Boy Through often thought of the moon.
"No," he answered,
so the Sidewinder thought some more.
"Is it the rabbit?" he asked,
and Blue Boy Through shook his head.
There was one guess left,
leaving the Sidewinder worried.

How could such a silly nonsense,
he thought,
cause all of me to lose sense?
And then he hissed, he knew the answer!
His face grinned. "Is it the clock?" he asked, and Blue Boy Through nodded.
"It is," he answered, and the Sidewinder hissed in delight.

The questions continued,
again and again,
before Blue Boy Through asked one,
that was really just a show stopper.

"What goes to bed in the morning,
wakes in the evening,
and is awake at noon,
while asleep at midnight?" he asked.

The Sidewinder thought and thought,
after his first two guesses were wrong.
Not a baby, he realized was sense,
and not a butterfly moth was as well.
He gave up, and Blue Boy Through grinned.

"The Sidewinder of course!" said he, triumphant.
The Sidewinder sighed,
and admitted defeat.
For even he, the Sidewinder,
admits he is beat.
Because he knew that he was.

[GalliumGrant]

I absolutely LOVE your first poem.

Now, for the second one, I was too lazy to read. :3

Nice job!

[Dashing Leaves]

I wanna make the second into a children's book someday.

Some more:

Nightswimmer
The Nightswimmer slowly swims,
through and in between the dreams of the serene.
The Nightswimmer slowly strokes, at its whims,
through the souls of those at peace.

The Nightswimmer paddles,
through the stars above.
The Nightswimmer slowly smiles,
for it knows that it is loved.

Even though nobody knows it's there,
it knows it is love by all.
Because the Nightswimmer loves,
most of all,
a quiet night.

2078
The world turned slowly, as it always would,
as night fell on the eastern American coast.
To the west, people still out and about as they could,
unaware of what was about to bring upon them the most,
the most harmful thing to ever befall any one man.

The bombs hit, and in a flash, of pain and terror,
night turned to day, day to night,
nightmares became flesh, as if looking in a mirror,
Starting in the east, headed towards the west,
a nuclear nightmare, a nuclear sunset.

But retaliation came quick,
and in a flash of fiery violence,
the Americans did a mimic,
and on the world fell a deathly silence.
The horsemen galloped as destruction rained down…

For War…
War never changes.
But Humanity does, with the passing of ages.
And this is just a turning stone,
As is all horror.