My heart
beat faster one warm summer night,
When four
friends and I exchanged tales around a fire,
Connie
leaned forward in her chair,
“There are
fairies dancing there,
Around the
old oak tree,
A place
that’s magical for them and me,”
Her brown
smoldering eyes held me still,
I searched
their depths until I had my fill,
“Fairies
cast spells on strangers passing through,
Using their
magic to make dreams come true,”
Connie, her
raven black hair shining in the moonlight,
Said, “I’ll
tell you more, later in the night,”
Jim cleared
his throat, glanced at the others, then at me,
“I’ll tell
you a story about terror at sea,
Of pirates
who changed from their plundering ways,
Experienced
old salts brave and crusty as they be,
Who saved
their own lives by tossing treasures into the sea,”
He paused
for a moment to catch his breath,
“Then I’ll
close with a ship named ‘DEATH’,”
Rhonda stood
up and with a shy little grin,
“I want to tell you about heroic women and
their wild, wild men,
How they
conquered the West with love, tears, and sweat,
Overcame
their fears and stood up to threats,”
Bill
couldn’t resist telling about wars with blood and gore,
“Freedom is
always worth fighting for,”
He hesitated
as if he wanted his words to sink in,
“There’s a
change as boys become men,
Cannons boom
constantly and tanks shake their world around,
Every man
becomes braver as he crosses contested ground,”
I listened
and waited to share a truth that was stark,
I wanted to tell them about danger that lurked
in the dark,
My story had
been forgotten and I lost my chance to speak,
For growls
were getting closer and my stomach was getting weak,
I gasped and
stuttered but nothing they could understand,
They continued
with their stories as I wrung my hands,
Connie
looked at me apprehensively, as if I was mad,
“I see
you’re preparing your story, but your acting is bad,”
There were
murmurs of agreement as she continued her tale,
“The fairies
were delighted to find one day,
A knight
tired from his journey, under the oak he lay,
On his way
to the castle he had fallen asleep,
His mission
was to rescue a princess from the keep,
The fairies
laughed, they danced, they cast a spell,
They wanted
their magic to serve him well,
For he would
soon face the witch and the evil queen,
Brave
knights who’d gone before were never again seen,
The fairies
wove a multi-colored cloak from spider webs and dew,
If he wore
it at the castle it would hide him from view,
A second
spell they bestowed before he awoke,
The next two
he kissed would go up in smoke,”
Her story was
entertaining and the fire was going out,
But Jim
looked sullen and was beginning to pout,
“Go ahead,
Jim,” I said, “I’ll throw more wood on the fire,
Continue
your story about the treasures pirates aquire,”
Uneasily I studied
the woods for the terror it contained,
While my
friends shared the fire and with stories entertained,
“After a
brief skirmish with one of the king’s battleships,
The pirates
disappeared into the fog and gave them the slip,
They
plundered the coast, found treasures to steal,
Escaped
angry husbands, had rum and good meals,
The tars
watched a hundred sunsets as they traveled by boat,
Then the
pirates crossed the Atlantic to lands remote,
Found
Spanish ships loaded with gold from the new world received,
The pirates
fired their cannons and the gold relieved,
And off they
sailed thinking they were safe from harm,
But a
hurricane was brewing and no one sounded the alarm,”
While he
gathered his breath to go on with his tale,
Rhonda
couldn’t wait one minute longer,
“The men in
my story were strong, but the women were stronger,
From Boston
and New York the men went west,
Looking for
adventure, for gold, or land at its best,
Towns sprang
up overnight with guns making the law,
It was easy
to be dead or quick on the draw,
The last
place of civilization was named Kansas City,
Men
venturing west beyond that were given no pity,
Uncivilized,
untamed, life always in the rough,
If a woman
dared go west she had to be tough,
She plowed
by day, ran her household by candlelight,
Bore her
babies at home, and fought for her rights,
In the
fields or on the porch she carried a gun,
But in the
bedroom at night most battles were won,
Those feisty
women changed each odious law,
Against
those in petticoats stubborn men would withdraw,”
“A nice
history lesson, Rhonda,” Bill said, “Now it’s my turn,
There was a
young man who had much about war to learn,
Both sides
agreed about Christmas Day, so soldiers ceased fire,
No guns were
deadly as they crossed over barbed wire,
Troops
celebrated together but before the sun went down,
Soldiers
took their positions and prepared for another round,
Deadly
combat began early the next day,
Friends
became enemies, no mercy did they display,
This young
man, eighteen at most, charged a machine gun nest,
Dodged
bullets as he ran, but was more scared than the rest,
He was tired
of seeing his friends shot down,
So he dashed
across and conquered the ground,
He didn’t
want to be a hero but what else could he do,
The war was
not over and his job was not through,”
Stories of
fairies, heroic women, war and the sea,
Were all
suspended while my friends waited for me,
All the
people in these stories marched upon imagination’s stage,
Yet a few
feet away, more than enough to fill a page,
There was a
story ready to unfold,
About a
creature hungry and bold,
Perhaps I
was the only one who could see,
Those long
fangs and those eyes glaring at me,
I had
listened and waited and I wanted to share,
But I was
transfixed by that malevolent stare,
I wanted to
ask if this was but a dream,
Because if
it was real, I needed to scream,
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