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Forever Flower"Oh Joseph, it's beautiful!"
The young woman's gaze shifted from her outstretched left hand to the man standing behind her, her expression rapturous. His beaming smile matched her own as he replied, "I'm glad you like it. The jewelers had very specific instructions as to its design."
Their eyes met.
"Nothing but the best for my flower. But," he continued, his smile narrowing to an amused smirk, "You still haven't answered my question. Will you?"
She rolled her eyes- an unfortunate habit, perhaps, he reflected, but just one more thing that endeared her to him. Grace wasn't perfect, like the Gibson-Girl-esque women his mother'd tried to foist off on him, and for that she was the most wonderful woman in the world.
Turning away, she tucked back a loose strand of brown hair and examined her nails as though thoroughly bored. Finally, she spoke.
"If you haven't figured that out by now, then you must be the densest man in Marshall Falls." A pause, then, "Of course I'll marry you, my love."
SarahcideYou're killing the dreamer
Living the dream
Scouring out each trace of romance
Hey, wanna dance?
"Guilty as charged, Yer Majesty."
You heard the verdict, dear,
Oh, so doubtful.
Methinks the lady doth protest too much,
And now I know it's true.
No one knew that the King of the Goblins didn't have a lock on magic.
But everyone knew that he had one on being a jackass.
All the gentry
Playing goblins, whispering behind their masks
See that she can't turn away even when he hurts her.
Silly little girl.
Glutton for punishment.
God only knows why she loves him,
And God's not telling.
(cruelly, beautifully, sharp-toothed),
You waltz off with your new partner.
Leaving the young girl to your pretty words.
Oops, not even that-
They're too taxing.
Too hard to keep pretending?
Then why don't you stop, goblin ruler?
Leave her in your past.
Kill her slowly, painfully
Cruelly, beautifully, grinning your shar
One From OneI have a little secret
That I carry deep inside.
It's such a tiny secret
That within me chose to hide.
A living, breathing secret
Fighting tooth and nail to thrive.
My ugly little secret
That is eating me alive.
Not even Mommy knows it
When she tucks me into bed.
And reads to me a story
And kisses my forehead.
She says to me, "Oh, sweetie,
I'm so sorry you're alone."
But I have my little secret
Like a belly full of stone.
Daddy's clueless also
To my secret deep and small.
In fact, he barely ever
Takes notice of me at all!
He said he wants a little boy;
He said they'll try once more.
But he didn't see my secret
Standing with me by the door.
I have a little secret
That I carry deep inside.
It's an itty bitty secret
That within me likes to hide.
But sometimes I can see it
And we laugh and sing and play.
I hope my little secret
Will be alive someday.
RainShe is standing in the rain again.
I am standing in the rain again.
It's a surefire way to catch cold, everyone tells me. The best way to catch my death of pneumonia or croup or something; nobody can ever give me a straight answer as to the cause of my impending doom. But I know it will involve a high fever, and that's why I smile.
I know why she smiles, standing there in with her thin, white camisole plastered to her chest, chestnut hair painted black by the deluge. A proper winter downpour, guaranteed to set one sneezing just by looking at it. Freezing, just a few degrees from being snow.
As her lips take on a bluish cast against the pallor of her skin, they turn upward; the colder and wetter she becomes, the wider she grins.
I must be careful how long I stay out here. Too long, and the resultant fever will fry my brain. Not long enough, and I only get an elevation which will clear up in a few hours. It's a fine art, making yourself sick, and I'm beginning to consider m
Narnia NightsThe air is crisp.
No breeze stirs the red-gold leaves,
Still clinging to the branches of the over-arching giants.
Some of their smaller brethren stand bare;
Dark silhouette etchings against the blue-grey sky.
Below, in the world of men,
The cul-de-sac looks almost deserted
Bathed in the same oldyear light;
The houses loom like ancient castles,
Silent, dark, mysterious,
But for solitary lights-
The golden pools of lampposts
Or the outpouring of radiance
From unshuttered windows, which speaks
Of the families within.
Families who've turned inward,
As one does at this season,
To create together winter's strange and wonderful dreams.
I pull the gold chain with its red teardrop on the end,
And the small window dominates again,
No longer made dim
By the lamp's stronger, closer light.
All the best tales grow in year's end;
All the strangest occurrences bind lives.
In this moment, I know why.
Gazing at the shadow trees,
Feeling safe and sheltered in their embrace.
Tonight, I can dream of what I
Christmas On The NautilusTwas the night before Christmas, and our dear lady's crew
Were asleep, but the poor League had nothing to do
They'd got Quartermaine back and he was alright
(But with stories to tell that could turn your hair white)
The world wasn't in peril, all was safe and at peace
But quite frankly 'twas boring, to those folk at least
In their separate quarters the oddballs all lay
Awaiting the dawn of a bright Christmas Day
When out on the roof there arose such a clatter
Allan sprang from his bed to see what was the matter
Away to the portal he flew like a flash
Fumbled, but finally opened the latch
The moon on the waves set the water aglow
And made an iceberg of the pale ship below
Suddenly there was the strange sound again!
The great hunter looked up as once more came the strain
Of wood against metal; then, before his eyes
Some dark shape lit onto the deck so nearby!
Then Quartermaine ran, for he'd seen such before
Clearly some wretch wanted to sneak onboard!
Through the corridors now, as f
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More