#writeaboutafriend
HP maidens, poetesses,
Scribes refined in frocks and dresses,
Silver words and golden tresses
Fall upon your page.
With your slender painted fingers,
Tell the tales your hearts would bring us,
Let the marching bands and singers
Take you to the stage.
Have no fear of failing,
With your words regaling,
All the seeds of mighty deeds
And heady heights you're scaling;
With your thirst for love and sharing,
Let your trumpet sound it's blaring,
Tell it bold and tell it daring,
You are all revered!
Jan 13, 2015
Jan 13, 2015 at 5:23 PM UTC
I don't know what you think of the word "wicked";
but where I come from it's a funny thing. It doesn't mean evil or sad.
We say "That's wicked cool." It's meaning rings the same as, "That's the ticket!"
Wicked means more; and more hope can't be all that bad.
I guess what I'm saying is, you're "Wicked" nice.
Despite your talent, your wall is full of other people's "Hope".
Vanity is certainly not your choicest vice.
Empathy, perhaps, would better fit the scope.
Your story's still being written down; I'm not sure where that path will stray.
I don't know if it will end in fire or ice- or if either would suffice-
but were Robert Frost here, (and from my home town) he'd say
"I've heard the name. That chick's wicked dope."
Thanks for being Wicked Cool, Wicked Hope
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC