The Gatekeeper’s Fate

The guardian of secrets,
A keeper of the key.
I itch with anticipation,
When the King asks for me.

I know all there is to know,
About the steel chains and lock.
The titanium gate.
I oversee around the clock.

I still hope that one day,
I will see what’s inside!
One night, I hear footsteps,
So I have to decide.

I will take this chance!
So I linger, with intent.
If they find a way in,
I’ll catch a glimpse or a scent.

I pretend to be asleep,
As they cut the chain,
I stand up in awe,
His efforts were in vain.

Beyond the gate was… Nothing.
This must be a ploy.
Not a speck of gold,
Was I assigned the decoy?

Upon confronting the King,
Who had no emotion,
He said I’d failed the test,
There’s no hope of promotion.

In response to Mindlovemisery’s Sunday Writing Prompt found here

NaPoWriMo Day 13

Non-Apology for Brother

To my dearest brother,
You seem to have misplaced your mate,
With your eyes glued to the screen,
He was free to take my bait.
Don’t worry, dear brother,
We don’t think it’s that bad.
I simply won’t apologise,
I’ll take good care of the lad,
Don’t blame me, dear brother,
He’s simply meant to be my mister.
Your friendship will defeat this.
Love from your naughty sister!

In response to the NaPoWriMo Non-Apology challenge found here

Rebellious Friends Forever

Remember the day we became friends?
If only a childhood never ends.
Our friendship ignited like sawdust to an ember,
In my club, you were the only member.
We hated ballet slippers and leotards,
So we would sneak away for a game of cards.
We would always hide in the shadows,
Avoiding the colour of a kitten’s nose.
Remember when we missed the school bus?
We hid behind the shelter, so it left without us.
Instead we disappeared to a distant bay,
And pranced around endless dunes all day.
You were always the apple of my eye,
I know who to call for an alibi.

Image credit: pixabay.com

In response to Paint Chip Poetry Prompt #23 found here

An Awkward Quadrille

We giggled in the courtyard,
Doing impressions of his coy advances.
The way he bites his lip,
His clumsiness as he dances.
His eyelids raised, revealing nerves.
He spluttered: “A beautiful undress”.
Perhaps that is what he really meant,
A Freudian slip, no less.

Image credit: Pixabay.com

In response to dVerse’s quadrille challenge #105 found here

Ode to Parakeets

Oh, the beautiful parakeet,
With your soft, ruffled feathers,
In layers of sumptuous plumage.
You take flight with grace,
Landing like gymnasts.
You sing a tune, so gently,
As you admire your reflection,
After hours of preening.
Understandable conceit,
Oh, the beautiful parakeet.

Shared for Open Link Night #267 at dVerse found here

Wand’ring Eye Décima

You took a second glance. I could
Forgive you for a wand’ring eye.
As long as you do not deny,
And just assume I’ve understood,
Given a choice, I know you would
Allow that longing, leering stare
To ricochet back to me where
It will be reciprocated.
Besides, I’ve often debated
To gaze, myself. It’s only fair.

In response to Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 6 found here

A Clerihew For My Love

I wrote a Clerihew for my love.
For I’m convinced he fell from above.
He landed at my doorstep, on all fours.
I blushed and whispered: “call me yours”.

Distorted Dreams

One moment I was running, and then I took one look at your face and frowned. It was distorted. You were still beside me, your voice echoed in my ears, and I could still feel your soft skin, but it wasn’t your face. It wasn’t your body or your hair, or even your delicate eyes.

I am dreaming. I must be missing you.

I lean in closer, sensing every part of you, it seems so real. I believe that you’re there, you just look different. Then, I realise we are floating. Floating high above a place that doesn’t even exist. I am holding a cold glass of water. I feel the weight of it, and the drips of condensation on my fingertips. There’s no denying it’s existence.

I wake up, my hand clasped around air. For a second I’m convinced I’ve spilled the water until I feel reality.

I think back to us floating, and that unrecognisable face who represented you. It seems ridiculous now, but it still makes me pine for you and all day I feel a tingle. I wait for the night to come again, hoping for a continuation, but by then it has all faded away.