Like any other changeling
She was waiting to transform
Waiting for her arms to curl into flaps
Waiting for another set of legs to emerge
...
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an excursion into a fantasy but snapping back to reality. nice imagery.
I see the spellbound of a true bard and his subtle craftsmanship.
A true magical spell of a poem. And we do have to be careful what we wish for, no matter our age. Excellently written too.
Life is indeed a mirror. What you want it reflected, it shows...what one had molded his life into, it relected. Nonetheless, wishing for something great is but normal, to achieve it or not is the prime question. If one will just sit and wait for the rain to pour, he will see the same image reflected on the mirror...however, if he went out to see how the pouring of rain does with her, he will for sure see a wet image of him in the mirror. To wrap it up...unless you act for a change in life, you still see the same thing in the mirror. This is an awesome write, I am touched.
George: This is really a fine poem. It is well-crafted and the ending is just right. Very well done, indeed. HDC
George...you surprise me. This is a well crafted poem. I love the end. I look forward to reading more of your poems. I surfed Malibu with a guy named George Murdock. Strange.
A fine expression of the desire for transformation, and the metamorphosis the desire itself may take. Very well, done.