The Forests of Evenlear, Part One: Night Journey

Submitted by Mary on Fri, 06/10/2011 - 03:06

I was far too tired to stay awake, but the tipping and jolting of the carriage combined with my fear prevented me getting any sleep. So, as the brougham made its way through the darkness, I curled up against the bulky pack of my belongings and closed my eyes, pretending to rest.

I tried to think about Havenwing. It was safe there. There I would be beyond the reach of the wild country and the creatures that inhabited it.

Sea eyes, Chapter One, by Xotirra

Submitted by Bridget on Sat, 05/09/2009 - 04:10
I never really trusted anybody. It was too hard to believe that they wouldn’t hurt you, too painful when they did. The healer at home, an old, wizened woman with no name to speak of, was my only friend. When I was young, she had read my eyes, and told me that they were meant to trust. Green with sea blue sparkles in them. But I still didn’t trust. I didn’t know how, and more importantly, I didn’t want to. Only the healer was worth it.

Story Land

Submitted by Johanna on Mon, 02/02/2009 - 01:22

To read a book is travel swift
For though you sit, as in a trance,
The mind can journey far away
To Russia, England, Spain, and France.
The villains rush to make you pay
While you refuse to shift your stance.
Or you, yourself are in the fray,
Endeav'ring to halt the foe's advance.

Ballad of the Traveling Man

Submitted by Ezra on Sun, 04/13/2008 - 19:10

In the small dark village of Yakathaim
Near the edge of blackness vale
I spied a bronzen man who came
O’re the rocky mountain trail

His boots were cov’ed in gritty dust
His hands were worn and rough
His sword was red with years of rust
And His voice was thick and gruff

“Ho, thou long worn traveling-man,”
I hailed him on the road,
“Come hence, I’ll give thee a hand,
And rest awhile thy load.”

The People of Yemen

Submitted by Kyleigh on Fri, 09/28/2007 - 19:26

This was written after our trip to Yemen this summer... not very good, but I liked the way it turned out.

Scattered qaat leaves beneath my foot,
Veiled women dressed in black.
People jabbering in Arabic around me.
Welcome to Yemen.

Open-doored Dibabs driving by,
Little boys kicking a ball in the street.
Stray cats sitting under the chicken coop.
Welcome to Yemen.