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Short fables series: #2 Water women by Mariah Pompa

Take heed for it might be your only hope, watch the roads, be wary of the women you see, They are not all that they seem, They are every where, From any ocean, river, or stream, They are not quite sirens but some will surface dripping with gold, Beautiful and displaced in time, Missing girls and absent wives, The water calls to them, songs of comfort, joy, and pride, a life of leisure with the rolling of the tide, The city below the sea is generous as its people, all that they need is to feed , and everyone earns their keep, Keep a watch full eye, They will draw you in, just as she is now, Beautiful, tantalizing, oh look your one foot in the sea, A wide smile ,  trusting doe eyes, Your waist deep you should have heeded my warning, That enticing treasure you were so determined to keep, suddenly has the sharpest teeth....
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short fable series: Petereleon by Mariah Pompa

Oh little me I seem to have grown, Growling under tables, I am now throwing my self in to fables, Bleeding so many words instead of reading them, Chicken scratch has morphed into Times New Roman, Clean cut documents are beyond the graphite stained pages, My old self isn't quite so grown though, I still growl under my breath and my fingers are still dirty, Imagination still dominates my thoughts from 7:45 to 12:30, They're quicker, All consuming, leaving me frazzled, There's no hope to contain them I just gotta get them all out, I try different styles and rhymes but still find a simple kind are best, So yeah little me I've branched out quite a bit, No longer bound to just the tall grass I've suddenly  grown wings, Not a griffin or eagle I seem to have grown into something else in between, Something ferocious, curious, and playful, Maybe not a sphinx whispering riddles, Dark mane with tanned wings, A creature longing for some kind

Doors poem: A Readers thoughts By Mariah Pompa

A smattering of words is all it seems and its all consuming, Taking minutes of my day, hours really, and I don't even notice, I'm happy to lose time and travel to another universe if it means keeping up, These new people, these new places, I can't wait to see it all, This is my spyglass to view another writers world because that's what it is, A universe between two covers that I return to now and then, Some are so painfully predictable you                                                          have to                                                                   set it                                                                         down                                                                                because its lost its wonder ... Others, dear goddess, others are enough to make me hungry for more, More plot, more people, more worlds, More words, Let me at these creations of mass distraction and let them sweep me awa

Doors poems: Two eyes, Two Poems By Mariah Pompa

It varies in color but never in size, The world rearranges for it , But it  never changes for the world, Once its gone there's no getting it back, no matter the advancements, A world of darkness is all that we'd have without it, No worries though, Its not alone , This precious treasure comes as a pair , A matching set more valuable than jewels, Than endless gold, For what is the point of riches if you cannot watch them shine ?

Doors poem: A Thought on Dreams By Mariah Pompa

Close your eyes and kiss logic goodbye, You know how this works, Nonsense, unconscious thoughts, the whole SHEBANG! It changes almost every night, Sometimes it scares me right out of it, Cold sweat, racing heart, fighting back the tears, Other nights its blissful darkness, Ironic since I'm afraid of the dark, Yet there are times where it all seems great, pushing along the fun times, easy dreams, and story plots, Those are the best, Is what they are, Dams, My unconscious key to a place for only me, To face the fears or put them off for just a moment longer, They are mine, my place to hide, my kingdom, my place to see, my place when in sleep.

Door poems: Escape is through the eyes by Mariah Pompa

The side of the gym, Ancient yet the outside was brand new, Deceptive as always, As most schools do, My number always got a puddle when it rained, Uneven black top never paid for, But even the new white walls have cracks, Branching out along the surface making me want to trace it with my fingers, Part of me wants to follow it with a pen or a paint brush, Opening others  eyes to my mind, I saw the curve of the splintered cracks and though of an arch way, a door way to some other world, It was made of mahogany but was frozen, Forever open just a crack, Just enough to see the world beyond, But not be part of it, Daydreaming away until a whistle startles it, Ruining colors, Fantastic sights just beyond the door frame, I'm left standing there on an uneven number, The world goes dull and grey.

Door Poems: Getting there by Mariah Pompa

Just reach for it, You've worked for this, Dressed up for this, filled out enough damned paper work for this, The cool metal slips through your sweaty fingers, A quick swipe on your pant leg saves face, The handle clicks against the ring on your finger, You may have a heart attack before you know,  Your chest aches at that thought, Adjusting the knot in your tie, Lighten the load, Take the handle, its time to go.