Rosella-of-Daventry

I should be studying.

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Fisher by Rosella-of-Daventry, literature

the singer by Rosella-of-Daventry, literature

Literature

the singer

i was caught in your edge light. the smoke played with it, but never clouded your clarity. no stage, no soap box, but a pedestal. you came with stories to tell, but no one cared to listen. you kept singing, waiting for someone to notice how the sounds in your throat turned to birds-- birds that can't fly-- birds without feathers-- birds with no past-- birds with no present. you are an island, as they say. "makes no difference anyway." you just kept on singing.

Sacrificial Offering by Rosella-of-Daventry, literature

dust bunnies. by Rosella-of-Daventry, literature

my fair lady. by Rosella-of-Daventry, literature

Absence by Rosella-of-Daventry, literature

letter to a friend. by Rosella-of-Daventry, literature

Sahara. by Rosella-of-Daventry, literature

Literature

Sahara.

my veins are full of the dripping sands of time. my brain is the Sahara. waking camels on the brim of the sun didn't help me in my travels. their hooves were too cloven for grave-digging. they stumbled about aimlessly like my indecision until they fell asleep again, leaving me alone. the best desert dessert is milk and honey- sweet and cold, combatting the heat, but I can't pick the damned hairs out.

witches. by Rosella-of-Daventry, literature

Literature

witches.

we are witches we are all witches our bonfire's a mile high our broomsticks can make us fly pull our stockings up mid-thigh cackle at the passers-by we are witches we drink potions to ease the brain douse the pain in hot wolf's bane dream of all the men we've slain to keep us young and thin and vain we are witches we gather memories we tether just like sprigs of dried-out heather we mix them in a brew together and banish them back to the nether we are witches and when we've finished with the night our coven starts to feel all right we stagger home before first light forgetting all about our blight... we are witches

teddy bear tent. by Rosella-of-Daventry, literature

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Hercules by Rosella-of-Daventry, literature

Literature

Hercules

You grappled dragons and slayed gorgons; you drifted on seas of sirens to state your name. Dominions were built with the strength of mountains, but moss-covered limestone crumbled at your fingertips. Why is it you never expected more than muscles to grow weary? Fretting over fights; jetties at night full of skeletons piled high. Hush the crowd with one word, always unheard, they continue to love you. In your dreams, you wished for recompense. Their defense: you deserved none. Nightmares are now escapes from reality- a quiet confidentiality- not the other way around. So wear that badge of courage, badgered by the current of the overf