Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Write in the POETRY genre (05/17/07)
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TITLE: Sunset Sally | Previous Challenge Entry
By Birdie Courtright
05/18/07 -
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ADD TO MY FAVORITES
like fairies o’re the spires.
Raindrops kissed with gentle lips;
each droplet she admires.
Chill wind enfolds her tiny frame;
she pulls the blanket tighter.
Heavens waits with baited breath,
her cares are somehow lighter.
Father feeds her crusts and crumbs;
a feast of love complete.
With grateful hand she takes the bread
that others wouldn’t eat.
Girls walk by with frilly bows,
She lifts her cup to drink.
Her gown of white is not far off,
they can keep their pink.
The light of love beckons her,
she snuggles in for sleep;
in grander halls she’ll dance with Him.
Her heart begins to leap.
Heaven fills her every thought,
this concrete bed; His gift.
One day soon He’ll come for her;
these sorrows He will lift.
In tear soaked dreams she finds Him;
extends her weary hand.
“Just one more day, I promise…
You will possess my land.”
She takes His whisper into day,
at sunrise seeks His face.
‘Just one last day, I promise…’
Her heart is filled with grace.
She rises from the sidewalk
and smoothes her matted hair;
never does she contemplate
what is or is not fair.
The breakfast line is long today.
She waits on bleeding feet.
The cup of oatmeal warms her hands;
today her King she’ll meet!
‘Sunset Sally slipped away’…
the word passed though the alley.
“carried home by angels”
wept Sergeant John O’Malley
“Did you find her grandson?”
“Yes—he wouldn’t take her.
We told her only yesterday…
now she’s gone to meet her maker.”
Homeless souls slowly passed
the place where Sally slept,
Tossing kisses to the wind
for the promises He kept.
They knew their Sally wasn’t gone
from the twinkle in her eyes.
She’d shared her gift from Heaven;
no one ever really dies.
Sally’s bed was empty now.
Who would take her place?
A woman torn and tattered,
dressed in dingy lace.
“I am the daughter of a King,
would you like to know His name?”
She called to every passerby
and one by one they came.
The hopeless and the mournful
gathered round to hear
of places filled with laughter;
there no one sheds a tear.
They named her Princess Annie
for the stories that she told.
She settled into Sally’s bed
and dreamed of streets of Gold.
As morning sunlight kissed the dew,
Princess Annie filled with Grace,
walked toward the breakfast line
with love upon her face.
A woman dressed in glorious white
dances round the throne.
“Well done, my precious Sally,
you have made your way back home.”
“I have found another Princess
who will lay out in the cold.
Dance for her my precious one,
that she may be as bold.”
Sally twirled and spun and leapt
with joy before the King.
Princess Annie looking up
began to loudly sing
“Glory to the King on High,
I gladly live for you.
I give you everything I am;
you’ve made my heart brand new.”
Others in the breakfast line
began to sing along.
From the bed where Sally slept
was birthed a brand new song.
Hearts were turned toward the King
and tears began to flow.
From the breakfast line arose such praise
as it began to snow.
“I’ll keep them, Sally just for you
I’ll feed them from my hand.
This precious gift you’ve brought to me
brings joy through out the land.”
Sally knelt before the throne,
Princess Annie bowed as well.
Every heart received the King
as silent snowflakes fell.
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I would only encourage you to watch your rhymes; some of them sounded a bit forced to me.
Keep up the good work!