The Love Letter - the Narrative Style
~Another Magical Fairyland Story - The Love Letter - Part 1~
(Short Story or Narrative poem)
It was very late in this winter afternoon
When I decided it was time for me
To do another very early spring cleaning
Even when we were here at Fairyland
Still in the midst of another brutal
But still very beautiful and cold winter day.
Winter here arrived kind of a little too late
If you need to know ( if you ask me)
But I just know that you won't ask me that but
Anyway going back to my story, I went up
To the stairs to my very old attic, which was
A little too dusty again not to my surprise or taste
Which made me cough a lot as I fought and struggled
My way kind of blindly to find the light switch to
Turn on the light. They were spiders webs it seemed
Everywhere and encountered and felt lots of them
Clinging to my face, hair and hands. I just felt like
Bolting out of the attic so fast, specially when I touched
many tiny spiders running and climbing all over my arms
and sweater. I love all creatures big or small everywhere
And of course here at Fairyland, but some of them
I am not particularly very fond of, and some of them are
Snakes, spiders and nasty, scary rats. Now talking about
Snakes, I was not to very happy at all when I turned on
The light and there was one of them crawling very close
To my feet, but thank goodness that it was just a Garden
Snake, but still I got very shaky and nervous after that
Incident. But I gathered all my wits( whatever I had left, lol)
And I just grabbed the poor thing and put her gently out thru
one of the windows of my attic. Some of my window glass panels
were either loose or broken I noticed now and were in need to
be fixed or replaced with new ones. I clearly saw now how the
Snake could have gotten so easily inside my attic.
Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2017
August.23.2017
“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.”
- Mark Twain-
~ Author's Notes:
To be continue very soon in " The Love Letter " Part 2.
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