NPWM Twenty-One: Snow White

She smelled of sweet grass and meadows,
Her words carried through the wind in countless bellows.
Her hair a crisp black,
Her skin a pale white.
She talks with me, and all other creatures,
She knows many people who act as her teachers.
Small little men like to sing their tunes,
But the hum turns somber on this afternoon.
A reflection is cast on our sleeping maiden,
She’s more pale now, maybe laid in heaven.
A warrior comes to wake her,
He hums no tune, but he brings with him warmth like that of fur.
He lay a fair kiss upon the fair maiden,
Who upon waking, had shimmering eyes of sunlight;
And all the colorful songs were brought back to life.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s