"Paper Things" - a poem

Before you ask, yes, I do have confidence issues xD

Paper Things

I have a little heart
Full of tiny paper things.
With their tiny paper bodies
And their tiny paper wings.

On their little sides I write them
My tiny little notes
My fantasies and dreamings,,
All my tiny little hopes.

I hold them close and tightly,
For I do not want to see
What the light of day would do to them
If I should set them free.

But I’m hoping for a moment,
Any place or time will do,
When I’ll face the daunting task
And share my dreams with you.

"Stolen by the Fae" - A Ballad

Yep, I'm back with a vengeance, tormenting you with yet more poetry! Mwua ha ha ha ha!
Anyway, I wrote this quite late last night while listening to Blackmore's Night ... perhaps you can see some inspiration in there. Hope you like!
(note: the tune is that of Blackmore's Night's song "Faerie Queen", so if rhythm doesn't fit it's because the vowels in a couple of the lines are extended, kay?)

T’was high upon the moorland,
Just before the close of day.
The shadows were a’dancing,
The sunlight gone away.
I rode upon my dapple mare,
My bow across my back.
My companions rode beside me
Along the narrow track.

The mists came down around us
And shrouded all in sight.
Leaving us forsaken to
The creatures of the night.
We wandered in the darkness
Called out for help and aid.
But out across the emptiness
Our cries, unanswered, fade.

But as it seemed that all was lost
A light sprang up ahead.
We three rejoiced and, in our hearts,
Bright hope replaced our dread.
We followed onward blindly
After our shining guide.
Through misty wood and forest land
As ravens wheeled and cried.

But we recoiled in disbelief
When our path was revealed.
We had been lead by faerie lights
And now our fate was sealed.
Our horses turned and bolted
Threw us unto the earth.
We were left, abandoned,
Upon the sidhe’s hearth.

The faerie king, upon his throne,
He looked at us with glee.
“What brings you to my lands tonight
Oh wand’ring trav’lers three?”
I could not speak, my mouth was dry,
My tongue a piece of lead.
My friends, they gaped and stared around
And not one word was said.

The faerie king, he laughed as if
Our minds had gone amiss.
We’d broke the land’s most sacred rule
And now our lives were his.
We begged him to have mercy,
Not to murder nor to maim.
T’was all a terrible mistake
And we were not to blame.

The sidhe stood around us,
Blades raised to strike us dead.
The king, he smiled and waved his hand,
We’d play a game instead.
The courtiers gathered all around
Their hungry eyes alight.
To see what entertainment was
Laid on for them tonight.

He gave to us a riddling song
To answer wrong or right.
Our rewards were our freedom
Or death upon the knife.
My heart grew bright with terror,
My thoughts a raging flood.
The fae leaned close and licked their lips
A’hung’ring for our blood.

“What breaks the hardest sword blades?
What beats the mountain down?
What tears apart the tapestry,
And rusts the golden crown?”
Thus was our challenge set to us,
A puzzle for our heads.
Until the sun arose at dawn
Our lives hung by a thread.

A terr’ble dark o’ercame my heart
I bit my nails and thumb.
I puzzled and I mused and yet
The answer would not come.
My friends were likewise dumb and deaf
No word would pass our lips.
We stood in silence till the sun
Broke through the night’s eclipse.

“Have you still no answer?”
The faerie did demand.
“Speak up and answer truly
And you will not be harmed.”
Desperation took its hold
Over my stricken friends.
They both cried out with such a voice
They were heard o’er hill and glen.

“Unfortun’tly, my troubled ones,
Your fear has made you fail.
You do not have the answer .”
We three turned deathly pale.
Our hearts were siezed in terror
Our struggles were in vain.
My cries for mercy went unheard as
My companions both were slain.

The faerie king then looked to me,
“You have not spoken still.
What is this curse that holds your tongue?
What does such fear instill?”
I shook my head in guilt and shame,
I stared down at my feet.
I closed my eyes, prepared myself
My certain doom to meet.

But the sidhe merely looked at me
A cold light in his eye.
He said to me “Don’t fear my friend,
Tis not your time to die.
Come hither, fearful one, and I’ll
Ignore your henious crime.
Come and join my merry band as we
Dance till the end of time.

To this day you’ll find me
Among the dancing fae.
We sing our songs by moonlight
And through the summer’s day.
Until the end of time I’ll live,
Ne’er age and know no pain.
But I will not lay eyes upon
The mortal world again.

My kinsmen are the calleach,
My home the hollow hill.
I serve my lord, the fairy king,
I live by his goodwill.
For that was what befell me,
Upon that fateful day.
I live on still, but I am gone,
A’stolen by the fae.

What Goes on in My Head to Produce Poems like This?

A slightly worrying poem I doodled in English, written to follow the pattern of "Time" by Allen Curnow. Gotta worry about my mental state eh? I couldn't quite think of an appropriate title, but I think it would probably be something like paranoia or guilt ... I dunno, see what you think!

I am the noises you hear in the night,

I am the shadows that swallow the light,
I am the plague, the sickness, the blight.

I am the monster under your bed,

I am the voices inside of your head,

I am the mem’ry of all that is dead.

I am the letter you’re too scared to send,

I am the grief your mind cannot mend,

I am the traitor you once thought a friend.

I am the doctors who check on your health,
I am the false friends after your wealth,

I am the knife, the assassin’s stealth.

I am the footsteps that follow you now,

I am the motive, the when and the how,

I am the cost of the king’s shining crown.

I am the screams and the grief-stricken shouts,
I am the fear that puts an army to rout,

I am the maze, one way in, no way out.

In shadowy corners, at the door, on the stair,
Wherever you look, I wait for you there.

Your constant companion, the very last one,
I know your secrets.
I know what you’ve done.

"Soldier" - a poem for Remembrance Day

Today is Remembrance Day. That will mean something different to all of you, I know. Having grown up in an army family, I've always been very aware of how wars and death affect people - and I know it may one day affect mine too. So here's a poem I wrote today for all the soldiers - not just those in the World Wars - but for all soldiers who've fought and died for their countries.

Soldier
I stood at your graveside,
So many years before.
And as I stood I wondered,
What were you fighting for?

A flag, a friend, a country?
Or a higher, heavn'ly call?
Or were you simply fighting
For no reason, weren't you all?

You were only seventeen,
Or so your gravestone read.
Your name was simple, like the cross,
Stark white above your head.

Did you have a lover,
Waiting for you back at home?
Or did you leave a brother
To face the war alone?

I'll never know your answer,
But, I promise, this November
I'll wear my poppy proudly,
To show you I remember.

Egads! Poetry!

Some little scribbly bits that's I've "doodled" over the past few days. They're not great, but for some reason I rather like them. Enjoy!

Paper Things

I have a little heart
Full of tiny paper things.
With their tiny paper bodies
And their tiny paper wings.

On their little sides I write them
My tiny little notes
My fantasies and dreamings
All my tiny little hopes.

I hold them close and tightly
For I do not want to see
What the light of day would do to them
If I should set them free.

But I’m hoping for a moment
Any place or time will do
When I’ll face the daunting task
And share my dreams with you.

Cadet

Scrawny legs and dirty knees
Itching like a dog with fleas.
Shirt’s too big and boots too small
Wondering why you’re here at all.
Shivering in the winter chill
Tired, been put through the mill.
Running, shooting, following orders
Pretending you’re over enemy borders.
Covered in mud and camoflage cream
Hoping this is all a dream.
Don’t like it now but someday soon
You’ll be the boss of this platoon!