Faerie Fantasy Magazine

March-May05

I used to be a chicken. That all changed when that meddling girl decided I would make a great art project. She plucked out my feathers with a vengeance, tossing them aside without a second glance. She must think I am immune to pain. Yes, paper machete chickens (or ex-chickens, anyways) do feel some things. Bathing in a coat of green paint. Does this girl think she’s the next Van Gogh? Goodness forbid she think herself the next Picasso! I feel the lavish coat of green paint seep in and dry. Oh my, that’s cold. She’s dotting me with glue and attaching peacock feathers. I’ve always thought peacocks to be beautiful and now I am one. Beauty is inside and out. She sparkles glitter above my eyes then sits back to admire her hard work. The old adage proves true: “no pain, no gain.” But the beauty brings a smile to my lips, the moments of enduring pain, worth it all.

Your soul is tormented by misery
and Death calls you to dust.
Love is torn forever
and faith in God is lost.
An old friend is an enemy,
and crystals hold no peace.
You lie awake and tire your eyes;
Your mind is at its least.
You draw blood from your heart,
and hope that it will heal
All the hits that you have taken
and all the hurt that you feel.
But when you feel like crying mercy,
and when the path has gone astray,
I'll walk you back home tonight,
The long road away.

Her voice, a song, sweetly singing.
Her eyes, as big as marbles.
Her fur, so soft and shiny.
Oh! She’s so tiny!

The sky is so blue
The grass is so very green
Spring is beautiful.