My So-Called Shakespearean Life

A 100% absolutely true (what would give you cause to doubt me?) day in my life event as transcribed by the immortal bard (written in iambic pentameter, naturally). Enjoy.

As I Perambulate
Walking hath been my preferred mode of transit,
Six decades on, my primary exercise.
It offers me a brief respite permit
From my hermitic life, in city skies.
But daily walks on the same route I tread
Became a habit, stuck in pattern's hold.
Today, I challenged self, a new path led,
For I felt down, new scenery foretold.
As I roamed down an unknown avenue,
I spied a throng around a dying tree.
They danced and chanted, speech unknown, askew,
And my suspicion rose, but so did glee.
Before I knew, I moved in closer stance,
Eager to discover their purpose, trance.
A dancer, auburn hair and flowing dress,
Parted the crowd and approached with a smile.
"Join us in celebration, nothing less!"
She asked, and I felt my heart reconcile.
Though city-born, I said, "Sure, why not?"
Something in her demeanour, calm and fraught.
As soon as I joined, all went out of sight,
A blur engulfed, and I felt lifted, free.
When my eyes cleared, I found myself in fright,
Lost and alone in forest, what could be?
I knew not where to go or what to do,
Far from home, despair did strike anew.
Before I fell into complete panic,
A man with grey beard appeared from a tree.
"Merry meet, friend," he said, his eyes volcanic.
I wondered who he was, and what could be?
"Call me Wiz," he said, "guide you I shall."
"Who sent you, and why?" I asked, enthralled.
"That is for you to discover, my dear,
I'm here to guide you on your journey's path."
He started walking, choice was crystal clear,
To follow or to stay, face nature's wrath.
I followed him, through mountain, river, sky,
On the back of a dragon, crows did fly.
We stumbled upon a meadow of whispers,
Fairies danced around a tiny pond.
One landed on my shoulder, mind blisters,
And whispered something I could not respond.
"She said you've a kind heart and curious mind,"
Wiz smiled, reassuring and refined.
Through the day, we met creatures odd and rare,
A giant, a dancing tree, even aliens.
Tiring, but I had no thought to compare,
For it was an experience worth billions.
Back at the tree, the crowd welcomed me back,
And I knew, never to forget this track.
As I headed home, gratitude did swell,
For the strange and wondrous journey I'd been on.
Changed forever, I could no longer dwell,
For my heart and mind now shone like a dawn.
A day I'd always cherish, and I knew,
People I met made it a one-of-a-kind view.

All Her Yesterdays

The immortal bard once wrote that tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, creeps in this petty pace from day to day, to the last syllable of recorded time. And as it was true for we poor mundanes trapped within the confines of this all too real world, so too were the mythical, mystical inhabitants of the Fairytale Realm subjected to the ravages of time, albeit creeping at a pettier pace.

At two hundred and seven years of age, dementia had robbed the old woman of her name and memories but whenever she sat by the window of her woodland cottage, staring past seven small graves that had not been properly tended to in years, she sang a long forgotten song from when her hair was as black as ebony, lips as red as the rose, skin as white as snow and impossibly the birds in the air outside seemed to dance in time with her lovely, lonely melody.

Text and Audio ©2019 & 2021 Rhyan Scorpio-Rhys