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The KnightA brawny man, hidden by armor, with a great steed by his side. A man with a bronze shield, and scratched equipment, and a razor-sharp broadsword in hand. A man who had been grazed by swords, and stabbed by daggers, and bashed with clubs, and struck by arrows, and burnt with steel, and looted by thieves; who feared nothing, stood strong, and had a courageous spark in his eye; and whose spirit remained powerful as he rode into battle.
WealthYou're born naked, you die naked,
that is my motto.
So why does it matter if you win the lotto?
Money is an object that can't bring you joy,
if anything, it plays with your mind like a toy.
Don't go through life saving every single penny,
those tiny cents have already corrupted many.
I'd assume you're probably asking yourself,
"Why live a poor lifestyle when I can have wealth"?
The answer to that is it can ruin your life.
Once filled with happiness, and now full of strife.
You say you'll do one thing but you do the other,
not even spending a cent on your dying mother.
Friends will be asking for even one dime,
and you'll say no, get one on your own time.
Your life gets lonely and filled with dread,
you'd probably think that you're better off dead.
Money, it seemed, should always bring cheer,
but it's the complete opposite, causing you to live in fear.
There are plenty of consequences that wealth can bring,
such as being in your life, and ruining everything.
BoredomI quietly sat there,
thinking as the rain was pouring.
I became aware,
that for me, life had never been so boring.
I pondered and wondered of what I could do,
there were so many activities, yet also so few.
I tried to read one of those amateur books,
alas, there was no sign of an interesting hook.
I switched on my TV, looking to play a game,
but the sum of them were bland, all and the same.
Then there was writing, a fun thing that I've done,
yet bad luck for me, my ideas were none.
Since there were no other things I could think of possibly trying,
my imagination rose and I thought I was flying.
That didn't last long, though, as the planes shot me down,
so I got back up, and took another look around.
I observed everything that I could possibly use,
then I soon realized, I could use these as my muse.
I placed down a paper and just started writing,
I thought, "Dang, where was all this fun hiding?".
I wrote and wrote then my boredom came to an end.
I'm so glad there's writing, it is such a
Dat PoemHello, I am a poem, how are you today?
You can't think of me? Well, I should get out of your way.
You have trouble finding me, and I wonder why
But maybe I'm here, you're just telling yourself a lie.
And since you're having difficulties, should I lend you a hand?
Wait, never mind, I'll trap your thoughts in quick sand.
It's painfully obvious that you're very confused,
Maybe you're writing this to get purely amused.
Who knows? Because I don't.
You're trying to write me, and to that I say you won't.
DovahkiinIn the prophecies tells of dragonborn,
the hero learning the language of shouts.
Destroying the dragons enflamed with scorn,
Says he will drive all of the evil out.
The savior of continent Tamriel,
He slays the world-eater called Alduin.
Fort is in danger, they're ringing the bell,
like Charlie Sheen, dragonborn always wins.
Commits many crimes and is forgiven,
assassinations to countless mortals.
Evil and heroic acts are driven,
heads to godly dimensions through portals.
The legendary hero Dovahkiin,
throughout history his acts will be seen.
*Furious Nature*Furious nature vents spite
Storm, gale, hurricane’s might
Tornado rips across land
Swollen river, nature's hand.
Volcanic action instills fright
Earthquake tremor day or night
Drought stalks land far away
Unkind nature has her way.
The Forest LifeThe reflection of the sun, accompanied by scatters of wispy clouds, hid in the glimmering sea.
The sea breeze sways the cerulean lilacs, the lavender orchids, and the flaming tulips.
The cluster of flowers waved at the monarchs frolicking among the branches of the oak trees.
The lush oak leaves sheltered a barn owl feasting it's eyes on a hare with a coat of cinnamon.
The serene hare nibbled on the verdant grassland, along with the insects that dwelled within.
The insects crawled in and out of the soil, hauling food dropped from the birds above.
The blue jays chirped and tweeted as they fluttered in the sun.
The reflection of the sun, accompanied by scatters of wispy clouds, hid in the glimmering sea.
Even Nature AgesEven Nature Ages
My eyes see both far and near
Like an eagle's eyes
But sometimes they see unclear
And blue when I cry
So I fly up to my eagles nest
To rest my head and reduce some stress
My mind knows ways common minds ignore
It is an old fox at best
But it must resign to its hole
To take some needed rest
My mind has innate wisdom too
Like the old owl
But I can only speak at night
And by day I simply scowl
Moonlit WillowWillows dancing
under ghostly moonlight,
buried deeply within roots,
beneath swaying limbs,
veiled behind green leaves,
leaves green behind veiled
limbs swaying beneath
roots within deeply buried
moonlight ghostly under
SprummerWe were together in Spring
but I know that I fell
I'd give you Autumn me
Girl, I don't even want Summer
but you colder than Winter
what you eat?
My heart with a side of living
A Love Like LeavesSubtle, ethereal you reached for my waiting
open hand-as wide as a maple leaf
dried by the rumors of frosted grief
lending green to yellow lost in translating
the passion behind the world's new fragile creating
that will be pressed behind a plastic sheath,
taken with the quick skills of a thief
accustomed to trifles that are breath taking.
But my love, your breath only catches
in the empty expanse you left behind
as it echoes through my hollow mind
seeming to make the sorrowful matches
burn awake with the light of fire
catching the dried leaves in a thick plume of desire.
Seasons turn colder,older with time
Winter fires smolder, molder flames climb.
SquirrelsAs they scuttle and scamper and scurry
Wee critters speed off in a hurry
Delighted, no doubt
To be lively while still soft and furry
Though small, they can climb with great speed
Four little paws are all they need
They fly through the trees
Like they’re on a trapeze
As their agile endeavors succeed
The Leaves Swayed, the Leaves FellThe leaves swayed, the leaves fell.
The sun rose up into the home it dwells.
The farmer stood in the empty field,
as the wounds of winter had been healed.
He took a deep breath and gazed in the sky,
a marvelous sight to see the sparrows fly.
The leaves swayed, the leaves fell.
The echoing is heard of the church's bell.
The wind drove blades of grass in the air,
and nature went on without a care.
The seeds of life are gliding through the sky,
and deep in the soil is where they'll lie.
The leaves swayed, the leaves fell.
Darkness falls on this day that was swell.
The moonlight gleams throughout the plain.
It soon lights up the entire domain.
It's time for nature to now get some rest,
so it can make tomorrow extremely blessed.
The leaves swayed, the leaves fell.
MercyOh sweet God how the grassland
ignites in moonlight tonight
I must thank you for creating
her tangled fingers' slow pace
through the handsome rain Her
trochaic kinesthesia to rhythms
in Stravinsky's The Rite of
Spring Is this how you meant
for us to love you Yahweh
Tumbling clumsily down hills
of sheets into perpetually
immutable silence I could love
you like that I think I've been
practicing on this Savanna
for days and months Lost in
her crystal canvas Rolling crests
and troughs And when she touches
me Oh fair Lord I'm dragged into
your city past Gethsemane's
pulsing green and gold
Please hold us together
under this luminous stretch
Oh Father We are live
unclothed Our reflections awash
with the skin of your sun
Blood BrothersBrookie always holds my hand when we cross the street. She's never given a reason for it, she just does it. It's become this unspoken rule with us that whenever we cross the street together, she slips her hand in mine and I lace my fingers through hers and we walk hand-in-hand until we reach the other side and she drops her hand and we both wipe our palms on our jeans. Brookie's a little scared of crossing the street. Her poppa died in a car crash when we were six. He was a pedestrian. She's never gotten over it.
Brookie is my best friend going on sixteen years now, which is pretty impressive considering we're both sixteen. We don't have some cute little story about how we were born in the same hospital on the same day or about how our mothers were best friends long before they were pregnant with us and somehow passed on that bond while we were still in utero. No, Brookie and I met the same way ever
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More