Okay, here goes.

Writing

My hand moves across the page

Quickly scribbling down the words

Can't ever seem to

Go fast enough

To get my thoughts on the page

Before they disappear- lost forever

My mind is swirling, churning out word after word

Swirling, churning, thinking, learning 

I sigh, set down the pen and push the pages away

I feel tired, so tired

Tired, yet- happy, in a way

As if I couldn't go one step further, then dropped 

Onto the ground to find that I had finished, just by an inch

Or two

Completed the race

Against time

~~

When I write poetry, I tend to get off subject a lot. Ah, well. 

Unicorns, Egnimas, Witches

Hipogriffs, dragons, ghosts

Oh, all the things of what I love most

MAGIC!!:) 

Unicorns, Egnimas, Witches

Hipogriffs, dragons, ghosts

Oh, all the things of what I love most

MAGIC!!:) 

I actually wrote this a couple of years ago, but it seems to go well with the theme.

Noticing the Little Things

Resting on the highest needle

at the top of a pine tree, there is

a drop of water, left there by another 

day’s moisture. Underneath glistening 

leaves; stretching limbs of new foliage, 

dewy pine straw and the tiniest shoots

of life, crawling among deteriorating 

undergrowth, is a black beetle, tiny

arms moving immaculately in time 

with the start and finish of cricket 

songs. Time’s languorous attitude

rests, draped across a splintered 

branch, staring at clouds and imagining

freedom from silver and black watches and 

stately grey clocks residing under a

load of more work to do. I look at the 

picture framed by my window pane 

thoughtfully, and I imagine what it 

would be like if everyone stopped for a 

second, and looked around, under, 

above across, and observed all

the details usually missed. 

Like a bird, soaring in the sky,

They're white, they're big, they're big, white birds.

Soon, I'll be up there, with them, flying high.

The big bird I'm in will rise and join it's herd.

I'm waiting for it to rise up,

To shoot into the blue and greet the sun.

To be able to look down, the clouds cream in the grand teacup.

I'll be taking off, littering the ground with my fallen burdens.

There's a roar, as the big white bird is running,

Faster than a car, so we may rise up like a feather...

The ground's dropping down, the view is stunning,

But most important, the sky and I are coming together. 

Now the ground below is just patches of green and blue, 

And soon it'll be gone, covered by the cotton candy clouds.

And I know that the old shapeshifter's tales are true...

Because I've transformed into a bird, too happy to sing aloud. 

~~~

Okay, I wasn't that happy the first time I was on a plane, but it was really fun!  

Ashlee! Lovely poem! 

I'm excited!!

In 3rd place we have... Poetic Panda! Your poem is great. The lines are perfectly divided as to not obstruct the flow of the plot, and gosh, the idea is so cute. <3

I am proud to award 2nd place to... Sterling Eclipse! The rhyming is jaunty and clever, not to mention those hauntingly pretty last for lines. Congratulations! *shakes hand profusely*

And in first place.

(Drumroll please.)

(DRUMROLL HARDER!)

That's very good, thank you... It's Rose bud! I love the format, the line breaks give it a magical, slightly disconnected feel. You're such a talented writer. I hope to buy a book of your poetry some day. "Times langorous latitude rests, draped across a splintered branch" is my favorite part. Remember, you get to choose the next topic (and you don't get to enter since you're judging).

Honorable mentions: Leafpool and Clouded Leopard