Archive for February, 2012

The Boy Who Lived Becomes Legend

Dear Readers:

I hope you all enjoyed my last post, in which I hopefully showed you how I implement emotion into my writing and try to make the reader feel what I feel, take them there with me, in fact. In keeping with this Harry Potter type theme, (I’m afraid insane fan girl doesn’t even BEGIN to describe my feeling towards J.K. Rowling’s epic masterpiece) today, I’m going to share with you my first attempt at an epic poem. I wanted to see if I could take seven books, accompanied by eight movies, and trasnform them into a poem that had just as much feeling, suspense, granduer and poetic grace as the series.

I hope you enjoy it, I’d like to think of it as my tribute to JK’ Rowling’s wondrous work, and as always I would very much like to hear your thoughts, opinions and criticisms.

Happy Reading, let your writer be your guide, and don’t be afraid to lose yourself, and indeed find yourselves in a story. Now, watch before your eyes as A Boy Who Lived becomes a Legend.

Ten years ago as we well know…. a boy became a wizard in The Socerer’s Stone.

A year older then, wand raised with no regrets, he boldly took on his darkest enemy in The Chamber of Secrets.

Daunting dementors, and taunting rivals, whirling at him in the third year at hand, he uncovered the past, and discovered a man, a Prisoner of Azkaban. To the Dursley’s he never did wish to go back, once met he his godfather, the noble Sirius Black.

Fighting dragons, rash wild branches, and mermaids in the toss and toil of black waves, not to mention a twisting tangle of a maze, was naught compared to what young Harry would face upon being stolen away to a forlorn dark grave. Losing dear friend, a most horrid sight to see, t’was the wrongful end of dear Mr. Diggory. So happened this ressurrestion of a dark enemy’s ire, how Harry did suffer at the whim of The Goblet of Fire.

Age fifteen, no longer a boy but a man, Harry is haunted by dreams from a most pale, deathly hand. Oppressed by authorative tyranny, such wretched pink villainy, He stood up against a sickly sweet horror, with an army of friends named for his hero Dumbledore. Loss struck him yet again, as noble Sirius Black met his untimely end. Shattered, and broken, he sought revenge, yet instead found a token that would pit him once more, against the monster of a man who murdrous murders adored. Neither can live, while the other survives, one must prevail, as the other dies, Harry Potter so painstakingly picked, to save the wizarding world in The Order of the Phoenix.

Dear chosen one, facing the trials and triumphs of love, wonders what awaits him as sixth year comes. An old school foe, fallen from his playful arrogant ways, treads ever more into darkness, with a poisonous plot at play. Eaters of death, mark the young aristocrat as their own, as an evil power ascends higher to the throne. A dark lord rises, a great wizard falls, a surprise assassin, a daunting call. Harry’s screams echo in that hallowed hall, lost so many loved, now the man who taught them all. The true pain of impending hardship hits, darkness decends at the doings of A Half Blood Prince.

Forced into hiding, the hero’s disguise cloaking his many friends, they do fly off to safe digs, yet is lost a funloving flighty fowl, his faithful owl, Hedwig. All that is familiar is lost, very lives could be the cost. A snapped wand, a frozen pond, same mind, different faces, unfamiliar lonely places. A row with a red-haired weasely, always moving, searching for soul pieces, no one said it would be easy. A child’s story could so cleverly hold a living mystery, a stone, a wand, a cloak owned by the Pevril Brothers Three. The search thickens, yet Harry’s heart quickens, as he is brought to a place he longed to avoid. The sprawling mansion owned by the family of Malfoy. Torture and tears, realized fears, threats and argument of a sacred sword, not to mention a death that left them sobbing, everyone forced to bid farewell to a helpful house elf named Dobby. Horcuxes hunted, an dangerous race run, who can predict what is to follow, death can be mastered only by he, who possesses the Deathly Hallows.

Deathly Hallows: The End is Near! Wizard & Muggle Alike Unite!


He’s Here To Pick Up The Pieces

Draco Lucius Malfoy

Even if that man is known to be a Slytherin...... and a villain?

Good afternoon, wonderful blog adventurers!

I thought I’d post soemthing that exemplifies a feeling of true, unbridled emotion, in my writing.

For me, this piece is incredibly personal, as it was written just after the man I loved, told me he loved someone else, and “just wanted to be friends.” In my opinion, it illuminates how fiction, in all its forms has always been a great comfort for me, and how the players of fantasy, such as yes, the dearly beloved, wildly misunderstood Draco Malfoy, can feel so incredibly real, appearing before my eyes as if comprised of verity, instead of verse. I hope you enjoy this piece, and I would love to hear your comments and questions.

Now, I’ll show you how “He’s Here To Pick Up The Pieces.”

He broke my heart. I watched him, this supposed to be shining knight, the prince I’d always dreamed of, pretend to cherish it as he took it in his hands. But once my heart was his, once this gleaming heart shaped orb was in his palm, he trifled with it. Recklessly. Up in the air it went, behind his back, back and forth, hand to hand as if it were nothing more than a toy. Then…. he tossed it up far too high, he was simply not quick enough, and with tear striken eyes, I watched the delicate glass of my heart, shatter into thousands of shards. He looked at me, right into my emerald eyes, and then swiftly walked away, as if none of it had ever happened. He left me there, and I fell to my knees. He left me too look upon the ruins of the love I so willingly gave him. He left me with nothing but brokeness, and haunting memories. Memories I once treasured, memories that dillusioned me into thinking he’d one day be mine. Weeping I reached for the broken pieces, their knife like edges leaving small crimson cuts upon my pale, shaking fingers. Dustyn Curtis Skylar had never loved me. I knew that now. It had taken a year and eight months, but now it was as plain as the bleeding cuts in my hands, and hurt even more so. I clutched the few pieces in my hands, feeling them bite into my skin. In anguish my fist tightened, and I cried out, tears pouring afresh. The pieces then fell, and clattered onto the floor. My eyes were veiled, like so many nights before, with the tears I shed for him. The tears he’d caused me. I did not even attempt to wipe them away….

It was then I felt the hand upon my back. Warm, soft, strong it didn’t startle me at all, but rather brought waves of comfort, as If I were kneeling beneath a warm waterfall. Softly the fingers stroked my back and I leaned against his tall legs, feeling strengthened. A renewing was beginning. He kneeled down taking my cut fingers in his, and brought me to my feet. Gently he walks around the shattered shards and turns to face me, a smirk playing upon his lips. I look up into his stunning sapphire eyes, glinting with tenderness and love, yet remaining ever sly. I look up at the one they called the villain, the one said to be hated above all others. The one they called Draco Malfoy. “W-Why are you here, Draco?” I ask the handsome, fair haired wizard, fighting through the tears. He grins, his eyes growing ever softer, ever more full of pure love. “I’m here….. to pick up the pieces,” he says proudly his voice gentle, soothing. He brandishes a fine wand, with an emerald green handle, and holds it up over the shimmering ruin that was once a heart. He flicks his wand, whispering the words, “Coeur Repairo.” I watch in awe as the shards rise from the marble floor and begin to glow. The shards then soar at eachother, attatching themselves together, very much like jagged puzzle pieces. My eyes widen as soon my heart hovers, flawless, sparkling, perfect, over the place where it had so haphazardly met it’s destruction, rising like a Phoenix. I cannot believe my eyes. A broken heart, beyond repair was now mended to perfection, made new against all odds. Grinning the wizard steps forth, in front of the glowing glass heart. Gingerly, with the utmost care, he cups it in his hands, a happy tear escaping now, as he holds it safely to his chest. He then walks towards me, an arm slipping around my waist, and holds out the heart to gaze upon once more.

“A treasure greater than I even deserve,” he says with a wink. “He stole it from you, this cherished jewel, then carelessly let it break, stupid, stupid boy.” I lay my head upon his shoulder. “It meant as much to him as dust in the wind, and I am the foolish one for giving it, letting him take it from me so willingly. Draco grinned and primly shook his white blonde head. “No, Love. He is the foolish one, the stupid one for letting such riches slip from his fingers. He collects these, as if it is a game, and I assure you, he has dropped many. I smile softly gazing into his eyes. “And you, Sir, have mended what I thought long lost. You have proved yourself more noble then he could ever hope to be.” Draco’s grin widened, another tear escaping his eyes. “That I have, Miss. You see, this was never meant to be in his clumsy, careless hands. This is far too precious to be his. This belongs, and has belonged, and forever will belong to one man. One man who loves a girl more than he ever knew or dreamed he could. The one man worthy enough, is the one who wonders how could he ever deserve such a jewel. I smile brightly, the tears just as forgotten as the painful memories of the past. “I believe I know this man. I believe he was the most wonderful, charming being who ever breathed, and I too dared to hope to gain his love. Draco turned his face, letting the tears fall freely. “Even…. Even if that man has been known to be a Slytherin and a villain?”

I smile and put my hand beneath his chin, raising it, so that his eyes met mine. “Tell me who is more the villain? The one who is labeled in all goodness, bathed in light, yet proves himself to trifle with love, leaving broken hearts and pain in the wake of his proud stride? Or the one downcasted for his family’s name, forced into the darkness of shadow, that hides the heart of a hero, and mends the unmendable, who treasures love above his own life? Tell me, My Malfoy, who is more the villain? Perhaps the one who has been so falsely labeled the hero…..” Draco turns to me, wiping the remaining tears from my glistening eyes, whilst fighting against his own. “I do know the man whom this heart has always belonged,” I say gently. He smiles softly and replies. “He shall only take it, if you give it to him. How badly he wishes to steal it, to never take his hands from it, but he will only take it if you will it. Gently he slips my unblemished heart back into my hands, and I grin brightly. “Draco Malfoy, I willingly give you my heart, my love, and ask that you be only mine for all enduring time. Smiling brilliantly now, his pale hands reach out for my heart, and I place it his palms. “Allyssa Jolene Summerhaze, I have, will, and shall always treasure this as the greatest gift ever given to me, and say that I have been only yours, just as you had been only mine, since the moment I saw you. I love you, girl.” Softly he brings my bloodied hands to his lips and the cuts disappear, my hands now as flawless as my heart. I now knew that my heart had always belonged to him, (Even before I had ever known him) that no one could ever steal it again, and that my one true love, this sly wizard of mine, would always be there, to pick up the pieces.

My heart isn't his to break anymore.... Delicate glass, mended, it belongs in the safe hands of he whose love never ended. ♥ ♥ ♥

Every Sky Is Our Own Kind Of Blue

I am a pirate, and I’m a princess. A daughter of another time. Back when ladies loved gentlemen, adventure was real again, and poems were made to rhyme.

I am Ally.

I am interesting.

No, I’m not bragging in the least, but I feel like the world would be astounded if they could play my thoughts aloud. The musings of a most imaginative miss. The ponders of a true pirate lass.

I am quite simply, an eighteenth century girl trapped in a modern world. My imagination is so incredibly vivid, I can summon images before me, as real and wonderful, as tangible as anything I see. I have a knack for blurring so beautifully, the fine lines of fiction and reality and escape into them as if they were moving paintings, portals from another world I could walk through. I see the magic and beauty in ordinary things. Characters cross my path and take me away with them. I find myself both writer and character, both creator and learner, in my life. In the story that’s happening all around me.

Enter in my world, wander the waves with me, take the helm, take the hand of the grinning pirate girl, her eyes the color of emeralds, and an adventure will await thee. Take my hand, turn the page, let your writer be your guide, no matter your age. Let me weave you tales of wonder, of adventure, betrayal, love cut asunder. Let us wander the waves, that take us places that amaze.

“Let us paint the pages of our fancy
Write the words that give us wings
Love the heroes from our fantasies
Let us live the way we dream.”
♥ ♥ ♥

I am Ally, pirate lass and painter of the page. I am your writer. Let me sail you away, from all the gloomy, all the grey, into a world of vibrant colors, let me lead the way………