"You've got a vampire on your neck, everybody knows what happens next." -KT Tunstall, Tiger Suit

The Magpie Jewler

There was a girl with dreams untold,

With heart of light, young and bold

Sing she would to the birds, and fly

With them through a lullaby.

Then one day as her song was sung,

Her song was heard and in turn undone.

Her joy and beauty had filled the sky

To be spied by a certain Magpie.

Now this Magpie was not as would seem,

Heart dark with greed for what he'd seen.

This girl to him, so delightful

Brighter, prettier than all sweet metal.

"Girl," he'd cry, "none else so sweet sings,

Live with me, sing for me and I'll give you rings,

Necklaces silver to gleam when you twirl,

Come with me and I'll give you diamonds and pearls."

So each time she sang the bird gave her a ring,

A necklace, a pearl, a beautiful thing
He loved her so and when he saw her
He called her, his sweet, his Magpie Jewler.

All was well, most fine with the Magpie

She could never starve and never die,

But as days wore to weeks and then into years

The girl found she missed the solidity of fears.

Wanting once more to share her song,

She decided to go back to where once she'd belonged.

But the Magpie's gifts now held her down,

She couldn't walk for her Jewler's crown.

Wishing to leave she begged him for goodbyes

But the Magpie, he turned and plucked out her eyes.

She sang of her sorrow and broken heart,

Slowly, carefuly, her spirit broke apart.

But inside her, all held on one hinge,

The desire, the call out for revenge.

So slowly the girl worked as she'd sing

For that loathsome bird that'd give her rings.

Though little was the Magpie to know,

That deep in that girl, a plan was to grow.

She worked away at her beautiful things,

The necklaces, bracelets, diamond filled rings.

She welded them to with her passionate heart

Full of anger and pain for that bird's part

In trapping her will and claiming her mind;

What she made was a cage of jewels combined.

She trapped him there within his cage

Of gifts he'd given her, they hadn't aged,

The metal strong and sweet - it held him fast

And the girl at last, frowned, then laughed.

"You know that I will not miss you

Though it seems what you called me once now is true."

She smiled and turned, that was last he saw her,

His sweet, his beautiful Magpie Jewler.

.oOo.

A story that I met in my head a long while ago now. It is the Magpie whose character is quite defined in my mind, the Magpie Jewler herself is rather an annomaly however. This started as a song, but the story outgrew it and now I am trying to tame it into some tangiable form. I wouldn't call it finished, I'd call it bottled and maturing.

The image used at the top is another of my own that I feel is a part of the fabrication of this tale - hence the inclusion. The paint is acrylic and there were many materials included in its making, (kitchen roll, book pages, snakeskin and grit to name a few). The canvas itself is 75cm x 1.5m roughly.

"The progress of knowledge and refinement has a tendency to circumscribe the limits of the imagination, and to clip the wings of poetry." -William Hazlitt, 1818

Even when all the components and time I could possibly require to complete a moderately simple task are provided;

focusing on said task can still prove to be an impossible challenge.

As a lazy idiot and insufferable delinquent I am typing away here when doing other things would be considered sensible. However, here I am and here's a song that I have been writing that's been specially adapted as a poem for this blog. Let me know what you think.

You tear all of your fantasies down;

As you burn your kingdom and hang your crown

Above the fire, on the mantelpiece

As you turn your back with chilling ease.

Seen stubbornly stalking from Memory Lane;

We all know that it will bring you pain,

But you're kept in the dark as we wave 'Goodbye'
You still don't bother to ask us 'Why?'

You'll spy the wolf waiting on your path,

You'll see he's hungry; patience will not last.

Turn back now, or walk on by,

Either way he'll cook you up a lie.

You venture on with nought but fear,
You shudder and jump at the dark and queer
Sides to your road that you dare not leave;
It takes courage to walk, but more to breathe.

If you lend others your hand, in turn they'll hear
All your woes and will nurse your fear.
They can help you too, so do not hide,
Don't call them beasts before you see them in light.

Learn that chance is not given, it is yours alone,
Allow yourself to be guided, don't rattle your bones
In asking for what you cannot yet have,
Give them time and in turn you'll be glad.

The wolf's eye still glitters out in the dark,
Knowing as ever you've passed off the mark,
Going on now holds your only known chance,
To blindly be led like a knight to his lance.

As you stumble on through your awakening dream,
You find that all is not as it would first seem,
Any warmth is now gone; the lights have been doused,
Look back in caution as you reach ol' Tollgate House.

Ushered up the stairs by those monsters-turned-friends,
You can't help but wonder if you'll see them again,
Alone and palely loitering on the landing you stare
Through the door, across the floorboard to the one by the chair.

The girl holds her chin high to the sky
As she tears down her fantasies, you're begging her why.
Your eyes open wide as she burns kingdoms down,
On the mantelpiece, you see, lies surrendered her crown.

She turns and she catches the look in your eye
As she stalks on out past, you demand to know why.
She is silent, certain, she turns from Memory Lane,
You know then that you won't see her again.

Your tale is full told; a cycle complete
You have yet to find out if you can live in peace.
Now building new kingdoms, forming new towns,
It will take you time though to don a new crown.

But in time you will and again you shall reign,
Older and wiser remembering your pain,
And time and again, the House, you'll remember,
The girl, her crown, the kingdoms, their embers.

And you'll pray for the others who'll question their time,
Try to beat their own fortune, write their own rhyme,
For you walked to the House from your Memory Lane
And you know it's a journey that can't be walked again.