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|A tribute to my favorite fairy tale, Beauty and the Beast, written under inspiration in fifteen minutes. It is rough, and it is raw, but I will never change a word.||
She looks at me, unsure, so afraid...Sometimes she is so fragile.
"I...I can not."
She can not trust me, she means...
I want so badly to reach out to him; his eyes are pleading.
Please. I can not bear his eyes, and so I look at his hands, offering.
Please. How can she understand the strength it takes, to speak this word?
Please. I lay down my pride for your sake...I confess that I need you.
Dark hands, cradling their frail gift, so carefully, away from the claws.
I close my eyes; the tears come quietly, gently.
She cries. I do not like for her to cry, precious rose.
She can not speak, her head bows.
Please. Please, my beloved, my rose, my Beauty.
How can I refuse him? How can I say to myself that I do not know him, when his heart is my own?
"It is yours."
Mine. I gave his my heart when I came to him, and now he merely returns it.
I love you.
She stretches out her hands...
...tenderly he reaches out...
...and lays the perfect rose in the cradle of her trembling fingers.
My heart. His. Ours.
We are one.
I love you.
The earth shakes, explodes with joy. Music fills the air, surrounds them with shimmering glowing light of sound and glory. The world rejoices with them.
I love you. I had no heart, and you gave me yours, so that my own could grow around it...
Lips; restored, touching in the light of rebirth.
We are one.
Beauty rests her head on the chest of her one, of her only, hearing the heart there beating tenderly in chorus with her own. His arms surround her, protecting, loving, always.
And they will live always and forever, happily...
Author's Note: You know how sometimes, a stray word, phrase, or image sticks in your mind, rebounding off of your skull repeatedly until it collides with another word, phrase, or image, and then morphs into something else? That's how this story/poem/image/tribute came into being. Inspired by a painting of two outstretched hands holding a rose, combined with the phrase 'Offering of your Kiss', which is actually the title of a poem I didn't read (I write a lot of stories this way, actually). I sat down and wrote this just now in a total of fifteen minutes, which is why it is so rough, but I doubt I will ever change it, though concepts from it will no doubt find their way into my other writings, now that they can spend their time bouncing around in my head. My tribute to my favorite fairy tale of all time, Beauty and the Beast. I realized, recently, that when I set out to turn Cinderella into a story I could like, I was trying to turn it into a Beauty and the Beast story. I came to another realization about my deep love for this fairy tale while I was working on one re-telling and coming up with ideas for another; it finds it's way into everything I do. The reason? It iss completely wrapped around my heart, and always will be. Always and Forever After.
|The Sleeping Beauty Stories||The Wild Rose - bk II|
|The Wild Rose - bk I||'On Writing'|
|The Hero - a poem|