I know what I want

But sometimes, I just can't put it on paper.  I've been working on the Guinevere poem for awhile now, but I just haven't been able to make it what I want it to be.  However, I like what I have enough that I'll post it here and take a break before having another crack at it.  Sometimes, you just need to let things go.

The other poem, Metamorphosis started with the last two lines and turned out rather different than I expected, but still good.  It started with an idea I had after reading The Little Prince for the 250 billionth time.  You see, I'd identified with so many of the characters on different readings.  Sometimes I was the pilot, sometimes I was the fox, sometimes I was the lamp lighter, sometimes I was even the prince.  But I was never the rose.  Seeing as my name is Rosanne, I've rarely felt particularly rose-like.  I liked briar rose, and rose red- both both had an idea of wildness and thorns to them.  I never really felt like a sweet or romantic type rose.  When my sister was talking about the kind of wedding she envisioned for me, she wanted dozens of roses and crystals and sparkles and faries... not really, but that was the vibe.  Me?  I always wanted orchids and bright colors and woodsy.  She wants the fairytale palace, I guess what I want is the enchanted forest.  I love my name, but someties I feel like the least rosey-rose of all time.  But about a week ago, I read the little prince again, and I was the rose.  I feel weirdly like I've entered a new era of life... but I doubt you'd get that from this poem ;)

Also, just so you know, I'm aware that I sometimes repeate phrases in poems.  But I only do that until I put a phrase I like in a poem I think is good enough.  The rest of the poems with that prase I probably have an issue with and won't really use for anything if I ever manage to publish (without Extensive re-tooling at any rate). 

Guinevere

At my feet you lay the blame
for the breaking of your dream
for your failing hero's hearts
and the loss of Camelot.

Nevermind the hurt, nevermind the pain
of a husband who never comes home
who loves his kingdom, loves his creed
more than the woman he promised to hold.

Foreget the friend who forgot his brother,
the knight who betrayed his king
Laud the skill and laud the honor
Of the man who gave dishonor to me.

Oh, if knights were true and kings were wise
they would tell you I'm not the sole reason
but they remain silent, I take the blame
for their faling heros' hearts
for the loss of Camelot.


Metamorphosis
I've been a tree
grasping the sky
I've been a cloud
swimming in lakes
I've been the wind,
the air in your lungs
I've been the earth
under your feet
I've been the masses
crowding the streets
I've been an island
lost in the foam
I've been the dreams
of the always asleep
I've been the wanderer
waiting on home
but this morning
I woke just a rose.