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Winter Themed Poetry

Hello friends, I recently hosted a poetry contest and am pleased to showcase the top two winners for their creative work. It is with their express permission that I am posting their stuff here on my blog. If you like what you read, you can hop on over to Mythic Scribes to check out more awesome poetry contests!

Our first place winner is T.J. Poldervaart, and here is his poem.

A Killer Rabbit Christmas

For the rabbit family freezing in snow
The hovel’s heat had a sinister glow
The dreary nights with human feasts
Were eerie fights for forest beasts

Christmas came with bloody hands
The Axeman haunted the rabbit lands
Each year he celebrated on his own
Devouring slaughtered rabbit in his home

His coming was a terror above all
Smart rabbits avoided his hovel
But every year one was too old
Too slow, too dumb or stupidly bold

Fizzy the rabbit wasn’t one of those
But the yearly killing made her morose
One year she decided this had to stop
No Axeman could use her forest as shop

“I’ve had enough!” cried Fizzy, nose twitching
“His murdering gives my paws an itching
I have a plan and for all I’ll make certain
The Axeman’s hunger will never hurt them!”

Her family begged her, “Please think clearly!
We’re used to someone dying yearly
You’re healthy and have a long life ahead
Live and let someone else die instead”

But Fizzy ignored their wistful voices
She dared to make the murderous choices
First she found the purple flower
A poisonous plant if dried to powder

All year long she learned the human tongue
Studying that terrible skill others found wrong
And just before the Axemen stepped out of bed
She squashed berries to make her mouth all red

Christmas came, the Axeman left his cabin
Fizzy craved for a chance to stab him
With a bag of powder and a belly of wrath
She stumbled upon the Axeman’s path

Roaring the Axeman cleaved the snow
But Fizzy escaped his deadly blow
Bravely she turned and refused to run free
Although she felt suddenly far less gutsy

“Why did you do that? I’m very busy
Just like you are,” thus spoke Fizzy.
“See, I’m a rabbit of a special kind
It’s eating my own sort I had in mind”

“My, my,” said the Axeman, quite surprised
“It is you I thought of baked and sliced
How delicious and special that will be
A cannibal rabbit that speaks to me”

Fizzy cried out as the Axeman grabbed her
“Woe me! Just when I went to wash drab fur
At least I’ll die with the memory of my meal
Fresh rabbit with spice is the tasty real deal”

“Spice?” asked the Axeman. “Sounds suspicious.”
“Not true,” said Fizzy. “It’s quite delicious.”
I’m honest, I swear! Here, try a little”
She knew she played him like a fiddle

The Axeman harshly pulled at the bag
Hurting the skin on Fizzy’s tiny neck.
“A rabbit talking about a tasty spice
Christmas brings me a nice surprise”

Fizzy sobbed. “Don’t use me as meal
Could you and I maybe make a deal?
If you like the spice, I could bring you more
We’ll eat rabbit together, all juicy and gore.”

The Axeman smacked his mouth in glee
Certainly tempted by this idea
Fizzy prodded him. “Try some now
I’ll bring more, is what I’ll vow”

The axeman snapped, “No need to tell me
This better be good, if you hope to be free”
Into his mouth he poured the poison
His face pulled, not keeping the noise in

“This is terrible! How are you this dumb?
Of this, I’ll never again want to try some
Too bad, little rabbit, this is your end
The oven is where your flesh will be sent”

The Axeman laughed and sneered and gloated
But soon he found his face all bloated
His mouth frothing, his breathing wheezy
“What’s happening, I’m feeling queasy”

His body crashed down on the ground
Fizzy jumped free and hopped around
“You said I was dumb, and you were smart
Look who now has no beating to his heart!”

She called out loud for a family celebration
The flesh would be for all the forest nation
The rabbit family was served by Fizzy the Bold
The meal was the best: revenge served cold

And thus started the yearly rabbit tradition:
Christmas as a human hunting competition
If you come upon their forest, shiver and be afraid
Your only hope is the holy hand grenade

Now we have PMMG for his two-part poem.

A Leaf in Winter

I

Alone to shiver on clawed branch high
One shell ‘neath glinting snow
To fall to earth where all leaves die
or cling as life does go

Wind blasts cold ‘gainst tenuous hold
a thousand times on longest night
and colors fade to brown from gold
As grasp gives way to flight

II

The wind blows wet beneath the trees
Hold fast and give no ground
A lone girl stands with sword unsheathed
A leaf in wintery gown

And stand we near in dreadful pause
as men-like-monsters leer
A final stand, a hopeless cause
a frightened hand to spear

A hero she, we’ve heard the tales
A sword that burns with light
and they know too, from blood-let trails
of warbands set to flight

The wind blows cold, but nothing breaks
Not man or calm or will
Save one last leaf of winter’s shakes
That drifts before the still

Thanks y’all for entering my little contest, and for sharing your work on WordPress!