Imagination
The creaking cabinet calls my hand
It begs
It pleads
Ignites imagination
The horror grasps
The haunted grinds
Imprints upon susceptive minds.
With facade of mystery
How can I withstand
When the unidentified
Ignites imagination.
I have become inventor
Of eerie unknown
When candlelight extinguished
Those flames depart
To ignite imagination
To make my life a novel
For of horror’s pretense
My mind is occupied.
My rest deterred by fiction
I brought upon myself
That a washing bill from cabinet’s claws
Ignites imagination.
This is a poem I wrote, describing Catherine's vivid imagination as she found the cabinet in her bedroom at Northanger Abbey.
Skyeler
What an imagination, not only Catherine's but yours. Ha! Ha! love Gran
ReplyDeleteGreat job, Skye! *loves your poetry* :P
ReplyDeleteThis poem was in my head on Sunday :)
ReplyDeleteWow! This is beautiful. Just beautiful!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much everyone! I had so much fun writing it! (Not to mention the fact I was overjoyed when twenty minutes before everyone arrived I had this idea and wrote it in about fifteen minutes. I was, needless to say, NOT thrilled with my sort of a paragraph essay about Isabella. BORING. [sorry all you people who strangely love essays]) ;)
ReplyDelete