New here; this is exactly my kind of place. I am fourteen years old, my name's Maggie (or Margaret if you prefer) and I love to write. It's my greatest passion ever. I also like drama, music of many sorts, philology, mythology, history, philosophy, anything written by Tolkien and other eclectic subjects. Interior Alaska is where I live, and no, I don't live in an igloo and there are no polar bears off of the artic ice over here. ;)
Mostly I write fantasy and poetry, usually nature-based poetry, with lots of imagery and description. :) I recently made a writing journal also, which is spunsilk.
Nice community here, I look forward to meeting other of like-minds here.
A glimmer in the mist,
A figure emerges,
Clothed in the pale fog of the morning,
Grey light whispers through the trees,
A swirl of aqua,
A shimmering of teal in the glen of oaks,
A glimpse to be seen by all that know how to look,
Though seldom does she show herself to aught.
Like ancient faerie bells dancing in the wind,
Echoing through the mazes of the forest,
Haunting eyes peer from the edge of a gully,
Moss and lichens have overtaken the tree
That seems to call silently a name;
“Elyè,” it whispers to the cold morning.
Primeval lady of the mists,
Fade to the human eye,
Glow to the eyes of the wood.
Sing with the harps of the sky,
Dance with the flutes of the earth,
Fill the land with an unknown joy that is come of itself,
And let none unworthy know of your rich delight.
Mourn yet for the death and pain of a world imperfect,
But despair not like those of weakened hearts,
For shadows have not yet o’erruled.