Mid-Week Flash Challenge 37
Everyone likes a little flash fiction, right? 

Thanks to a prompt from Miranda Kate's 37th Mid-Week Flash challenge, you're going to get some! 

This is from Miranda's post: This week's photo prompt was taken by Kari Liimatainen, a photographer from Finland. She has some amazing seasonal photos. You should take a look at her gallery over on Deviant Art

I won't post the prompt image, but you can see it here

So, here is my entry for the Mid-Week Flash Challenge and my first Patreon post containing my writing! A poem this time as I play around with alliteration and rhymes. Since it's for a public writing challenge, it's accessible to everyone so other entrants can read the poem, too. The poem contains 294 words, not including the title. A PDF version is available for download (see bottom of page).

The Faerye's Death

Swirling, gurgling, slowly twirling 

'Round the rocks and stones and snow, 

Curling through the forest cold 

The crystal waters flow.  

Along the way, a tiny glade, 

Where whirls of frozen fog persist,

Glows with but a hint of gold 

From a wintry sunlit kiss.  

And there upon a moss-hued stump, 

Sadly sitting, head bent down, 

Waits a tiny white-robed soul, 

Eyes in tears, face afrown.  

Within this glade a darkness came 

Like clouds before a storm 

To form the spirit she must face— 

Foretold when she was born.  

"'tis time?" she asked the silent form; 

A single nod came as reply. 

"I had but hoped for one day more, 

Though knowing even faeryes die."  

The spectre held her in one hand 

Its bony fingers hard and gray. 

She gazed into its depthless shroud 

And dreamed of summer days.  

The spirit blew upon her face

A puff of frosty mist 

That froze the faerye hard as glass—  

Then it closed its fist.  

Where upon Death's withered palm 

A thousand icy diamonds lay,

It puffed again, a bitter blast,

And blew them all away.  

Lilting, lifting, gently drifting 

Over the rocks and stones and snow, 

Winding through the forest cold 

Where the crystal waters flow  

To come to rest upon the snow 

Or by the stream or in a glade

To nestle deep within the earth

Where the faerye's dust to rest is laid.  

Then just before the spring arrived 

To start the world anew, 

Where every bit of faerye fell 

A tiny snowdrop grew.


Within each bloom, atop each stalk 

A tiny pair of wings appeared, 

Glistening brightly, taking flight 

To live another year  

Hiding, gliding, sometimes sliding 

'Round the rocks and stones and snow, 

Dancing through the forest old 

Where the crystal waters flow.

                                                  —  K. R. Smith

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