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Elisabeth Barstowe

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Prancer

by Elisabeth Barstowe — Read all 441 poems by Elisabeth Barstowe

I made up some words for this as I'm sure you all will notice, but I had much fun writing it. Enjoy.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Prancer was a happy dancer
a carefree, reckless chancer.
He made ends meet
by way of the street.
He payed no respect to humanity,
Prancer thrived in insanity.

As cold hearted and fickle as fish
he served up a hard boiled dish.
Conscience held no weight
and this he did not care to debate.
He walked the streets in star lit way
in golden swagger and sway.

Caught his eye and heart one day
a beautiful maiden as prey.
Her soul shone bright as gold
a soul of steel that could not be sold.
Her tale has many times been told
by way of prose and songs of old.

Prancer the happy dancer, the thief and brute
lost his wicked ways and turned to ways of softer flute.
Heavy rumble he could tolerate no more,
to see precious maiden suffer made his heart sore.
He vowed to protect her forever more,
she in turn was comitted to make his soul soar.

So what say ye all
was it destiny that came to call
on Prancer that night?
Was it angels in flight
to stop him cold in his fright
to lead him towards the light?

Is this a beliavable tale so say?
Can the Prancers of the world change their way?
Can fickle fishs' broad minds narrow
when struck by Cupids arrow?
Or is this a work of fictional utopia
better set under outer wordly star lit canopy
or in the heavens above
where there is still belief in love?

 



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Reviewed by Regis Auffray
Reviewed on March 26, 2010
I think anything is possible when it comes to true love, Elisabeth. I enjoyed your poetic tale; particularly the ending. Love and best wishes to you,

Regis

Reviewed by Karen Palumbo
Reviewed on March 25, 2010
I say dream on because this captures the grit of everyday life, but love is very fickle and at that point anything is possible...

Be always safe,
Karen


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