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Literature Text
Sonnet for Aveline
The weight of Wesley’s shield is more than steel;
It’s memories, and love, and grief, a vow
She could not keep, a wound that’s slow to heal
And rarely bleeds. She’s used to it. But now
A change has come; she listens for a voice
With nothing special, musical or dear
About it. Nothing yet. She knows the choice
Is hers, as are the memories, the fear
Of failure and of loss. She sits and holds
The shield. From outside Donnic’s laughter drifts.
She smiles and thinks of copper marigolds
All warm and burnished in the sun. She sifts
Her hopes and fears, and, ready to decide,
Her hands are sure. She lays the shield aside.
The weight of Wesley’s shield is more than steel;
It’s memories, and love, and grief, a vow
She could not keep, a wound that’s slow to heal
And rarely bleeds. She’s used to it. But now
A change has come; she listens for a voice
With nothing special, musical or dear
About it. Nothing yet. She knows the choice
Is hers, as are the memories, the fear
Of failure and of loss. She sits and holds
The shield. From outside Donnic’s laughter drifts.
She smiles and thinks of copper marigolds
All warm and burnished in the sun. She sifts
Her hopes and fears, and, ready to decide,
Her hands are sure. She lays the shield aside.
Literature
branches
weeping branches
trail in the wind
like languid fingers
Literature
Driftfoot
waking up at 3 past midnight
wiping dreams from my calm eyes
no starlight peering through the blinds
but still i find myself alive
my bones are up and want to jam
a barefoot run at 4am
the blue hood swirls about my head
and lifts my sweet heart back to bed
Literature
Cherished
She persuades him to lie down and be still for her
Naked in body only,
her eyes peer past the whole to the pieces.
She squeezes his breasts
Sweet, ripe little things
How they ache for her.
Curious hands become gentle fingers
Sliding up his throat
knuckles rasping against stubble
Skating across his forehead smoothing furrows.
Press gently on the delicate skin at the edges of his eyes
Follow down between the eyebrows
The straight line of his nose
Stroking soft lips that part in hungry expectancy.
She stretches his arms above his head, palms up.
Traces with spider legs down his shivering skin
Tickles the hair of his armpits
Nuzzling her
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She’s one tough girl to sonnetise; she demanded short, plain lines.
Anyway, four companions down, three to go. I suspect Fenris and Anders are going to be tough - not least because I’ve already written poetry for them.
© 2014 - 2024 Perahn
Comments2
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Perfect...and heart-warming on such a chilly winter's day. Aveline is my favourite character from DA2 and you've managed to portray both her vulnerability; her softness as well as her incredible strength of heart in a short space of time.
Excuse me while I go read this again
Excuse me while I go read this again