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Julie Grenness Jan 2016
Fractured Fairytales, Part Two,
A sordid little tale for you.......
Stranger Danger!
Stranger Danger!
Lil' Red Riding Hood,
Alone in the woods,
Stranger Danger!
Stranger Danger!
Who is this stranger?
It's the Park Ranger!
Is he up to no good?
Prowling around in the woods?
Stranger Danger!
Stranger Danger!
Lil' Red Riding Hood,
Alone in the woods,
He's thrown away her phone,
Now Lil' Hood is not alone,
Now he's up to good,
Bad news for Lil' Red  Riding Hood,
Stranger Danger!
Stranger Danger!
Bad Park Ranger!
Stranger Danger!
He's turned her into a ****,
Now he's got her up the duff,
Stranger Danger!
Bad Park Ranger!
Now she's a single mother,
Should have had a better mother,
Letting her walk alone in the woods,
Bad handsome Park Ranger,
Stranger Danger!
Stranger Danger!
A sordid little verse for you,
That was Fractured Fairytales, Part Two.
Feedback welcome, Fractured Fairytales Part One, was the tale of Cinderella and her handsome fella!
Vanessa Marie Jan 2016
Oh
How the satin essence of glowing white
blankets the chilling night
with such warmth
and such love
does the wood feel
as animals lay tonight
in a deep and peaceful slumber
caressing the deep wood
in effortless affection
THE HEARTACHE OF TIME

I CAME TO A POINT IN THE WOODS OF MY MIND
AS ABOVE SO BELOW IN THE HEARTACHE OF TIME
AND I WISHED FOR A STOP TO THE MADNESS OF MEN
AND I WISHED FOR A STOP IN THE ACQUISITION OF SIN
ALONE DID I JOURNEY ONWARD FOR DAYS
LOST IN THE SILENCE THE WOODS AND THE HAZE
ALL MANNER OF CREATURE I SAW AS I WENT
REBUKED BY THE LORD AND ****** TO REPENT
ALL MANNER OF WOMEN THAT MOANED LIKE THE BEAST
REBUKED BY THE LORD AND OFFERED AS FEAST
AND I CRIED FOR ALL CREATURES LOST TO THE NIGHT
WHO KEPT ON SURVIVING BY VANQUISHING LIGHT
AND IT IS I TO THEM THAT OWE ALL MY THANKS
FOR MAKING ME SEPARATE OUTSIDE OF THEIR RANKS
I KEPT FAST TO MY CROSS AS I EMPTIED THE WOODS
FOR BEHIND AND A-FRONT CREPT MANY WITH HOODS
DEAD AND YET WALKING AND HATING ALL LIGHT
DEAD AND YET WALKING ARE THE CREATURES OF NIGHT
I CAME TO A POINT IN THE WOODS OF MY MIND
AS ABOVE SO BELOW IN THE HEARTACHE OF TIME
Nicola Lou Jan 2016
Lead us down to the woods where we
will absorb into the wild
nettle stings and muddied things
we'll find a cave where we'll retire.

Lead us down to the woods where we
can escape the monotony
immortal beings and furry things
we'll forget who we used to be.
Sienna Luna Dec 2015
Chipper as a wood chopper
doused with kerosene lamp oil
at the start of the chilly winter
all bundled up in a fantasy getaway
deep in the wooded forrest lies my pride all cozy-like.
PS Nov 2015
I am indeed over you.
I know you've been over me for quite some time.
Now I have someone new.
And it's better we're not together, alright?

I know that yesterday I went to your past life.
And I know I wished I'd see the ghost of you there.
Your name, your photo, the thoughts of the night.
I had to stop myself from wandering in the woods, Bear.

I don't think anyone will ever know.
How much of my me you take up.
Without you I wouldn't be able to throw
It all away in the name of love.

But now I am without you.
Now I'm the one whose moved on.
I am so close to getting a new thing to do.
And I can't tell you because you're gone.
I don't even know what this is...........
Seán Mac Falls Nov 2015
( Sonnet )*

Deep in the chalk of gloaming flame,
The tawn and pale, of moan and loon,
Where under leaves of forest shades,
The crescent rails of the riding moon,
Here is when the quick blood running
Drains with shear seepings and looks,
With eyes agape, small game stunned
Over pines and green hemlock wood,
The ferryman wings and clawing tears,
Whose silent strike and low red raking
Blasts unto an indifferent lane of peers,
This is the house of apparition's name,
A mages fugue, muffled muses reprise;
The **** song which creeps as sun dies.
Stanley Wilkin Nov 2015
I grieve for you in the cold quiet of winter
My absent child, my long lost son
Warming my hands over dying flames, frost covered smouldering clinker,
By the wood where icy streams run
Through the shrunken sedge, and barren fields
Stretching for miles, empty of meaning.
The landscape like a worn photograph yields
Your tremulous smile, then nothing.

Here, you ran with startled steps
Through the yielding sheaves, yelling with surprise,
Chasing indifferent spiders, and discomfited birds
With hatred in their pebble pool-dark eyes.
Querying awkwardly spoken words, small
Tenacious fingers that caress and clutch
Every passing object, loudly chuckling, wisely playing me for a fool
A silly father who loved too much.

On the anniversary of your leaving I required solitude
Partnered only by memory
Away from familiar crowds, the booming, barking fusillade
Of the present day commonplace urban itinerary,
Where only the crackle of snow
And the fleeting trajectory of birds
Distracts my slow
Marshalling of comforting thoughts.

The cottage where we lived haunts the shallow glade,
A shrouded ghost swaddled by the half-light,
Positioned squarely like an old man, its cladding beginning to fade,
White branches like dead-fingers that gleam in the night.
In the closet are your dust-sprinkled toys, a yellow plastic duck,
A cheap skateboard, ancient video games,
A guitar you never learnt to pluck
A chess board on which you pulverised my endgames.

In the preserved furnishings of your bedroom
Your school work gathered into stacks
Barely visible in the gloom,
Our life together in disorganised packs
Denoting year and level
Development and academic achievement,
If any, (but I mustn’t once again cavil)
Indicating, even in your earliest years, a specific bent.

Standing on the mantelpiece, propped up against the wall,
Are brightly coloured, polished pictures
Of you. Plump, blonde, agreeably small
Dancing, standing, jumping, grinning, absurdly wistful mixtures.
A bitter echo resonating from the shadows
A cold thought darkening into memory
The spectre of your voice disappearing in the meadows
Having left all of us! Having left me!
Cori MacNaughton Oct 2015
Autumn arrives
leaves are changing
falling
carpeting the paths in the woods

The first freeze has been and gone
and now warm again
it rains
and rains
and rains some more

it will be days
before we see the stars again
as nature takes a breath
and so do I
beth fwoah dream Oct 2015
the trees settle their ghosts,
in the yellows of the sinking day
a strange wood
that waits for it to grow dark,
that sinks like a cloud
as falling leaves flood the sandy isles
with their sighs of fire,
as the trees ripple and flow
to a wind of immense breath,
rocking, floating down,
a sapphire ring left on a branch
by a girl who dreams of snow.
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