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Lucy goes for a picnic

Lucy decided
That she wanted to go for a picnic
She opens her picnic basket
And places
A Japanese ham sandwich
It is wrapped tightly
With some leftover
Cling warp
From yesterday’s
Freshly baked cookies
She likes the smells
Of her food
To intermingle
“I wonder how, cookies and ham would taste like?
I’m sure it would go very well with some wine”
She places a bottle
Of pot wine in
Her picnic basket
Along with two sets of
Plastic cups
She closes her picnic basket
And puts on her mulberry coat
She picks petit straw hat
That matches her coat
She made sure
Her gloves
Were snuggly on
Before stepping out
Of her honeydew colored home
Lucy did not know
Where to go
For her picnic
But she thought
She will let
The numbers decide today
She took out
Three dice
From her coat pocket
She kneel over
Her welcome mat
And rolled
The dice on it
The first die
Just rolled over
While the other two kept on spinning
And spinning
The first die
Landed on three
The other two
Began to wobble
The second die
Landed at four
The third die
Landed at four as well
Eleven in total
“A master number”
She said under her breathe
She picked up the dice
And placed them cozily
Back into her coat pocket
As she stood there wondering
What the numbers could mean
She could smell
Lavender in the wind
But there was no lavender
In the meadow
Lucy heads down
To the train station
The counter lady ask her
Where she would like to go
She thought to herself
That is one
Plus one
That gives you two
Two would be Arashi
It can only be one place
She looks at station clock
She would reach just in time
The numbers are never wrong
“A round ticket to Paper Town in Arashi province please”
She said without a smile
Her grandmother said
People with the prettiest smiles
Hide the deepest secrets
People always
Found her pretty
So she chooses not to smile
Lucy did not sleep
On the six-cabin train
She loved staring
Out the window
Watching the autumn countryside
Pass by
The speed of the train
Seemed to make
The mountain glow
From its orange leaves
The leaves
Reminded her
Of her grandmother
She used to help
Her grandmother
Rake fallen leaves
Of the town shrine
After the day was done
They sit and rest on
The steps of the shrine
Her grandmother
Would tell her stories
Of Spirits and Demons
Of Vampires and Werewolves
Of Dragons and Witches
Lucy reached Paper Town
As the sun began to set
Paper Town was one of
The riches in the region
Its mountain is filled with gold
The people of Paper Town were
Wealthy and powerful
But once a year
On the autumn equinox
Everyone touched by its wealth
Is compelled to return
The town will go into hiding
At Twilight
The curse of the town
Would begin
From its vast bamboo forest
A Harvest Dragon would make
Its way to Paper Town
The Harvest Dragon loves to feast on greedy souls
That is the price for all their gold
No matter how rich they maybe
When twilight comes to be
For day to mirror night
They could never leave this fright
Lucy heard the cries of
The Harvest Dragon coming from
The Bamboo forest
She heads towards
The edge of Paper Town
The Rustling of the forest
Grew louder
And louder
Suddenly the Harvest Dragon leap
From the Bamboo Forest
Into the sky
Bringing with it a gust
That could flipped cars over
Its wingspan was wider
Then six-cabin train
Its scales was just like the orange leaves
That made the mountain glow
The Harvest Dragon landed
On a marble mansion
Its chest began to resonate
The vibrations drawing out
The greedy souls from
The Marble Mansion
Lucy ran towards the Harvest Dragon
As close as she could
But as far as she should
She removed
Her snugged glove
She whispers a chant
A bolt of lightning zipped
From her tips of finger
To the face of the dragon
Only inches shy of its eye
The Harvest Dragon roared
And gave chase
Before she could have another shot
She knew that she is not strong
But she knows the numbers were never wrong
Blessed with the wind
Beneath her feet
She ran into the bamboo forest
Up the mountain
Away from Paper Town
Lucy only heard silence
In the Bamboo Forest
She thought
She was far enough
So she stopped to take
Her bearings but
That was a mistake
The Harvest Dragon
Was too stealth and too close
Her body is paralyzed
By the vibrations emitted
From the Harvest Dragon
It lands in front of her
All she could do is stare
Into its eyes
The eyes she missed blind
It wants her flesh and her soul
The Harvest Dragon lowers
Its resonating grip
And open its jaw wide
Its throat began to brew fire
Her body was still numb
But she still could feel
The cold wind blow
There was lavender in the wind
But there was no lavender in the forest
Lucy summon
All the courage
From all her past lifetimes
She reaches into her picnic basket
She grabs the plastic cups
She flings them
Into the Jaws
Of the Harvest Dragon
The plastic cups
Vaporized into fumes
The fumes
Choked the Harvest Dragon
Freeing her from
Its resonating grip
She fled
Following the trail
Of lavender in the wind
She stumbles upon a dilapidated shrine
There were lavender incense
Freshly burning from the shrine
She thought someone has been
Praying for her
Lucy walks into the shrine
The Shrine is decked
With Sangaku Tablets
Mathematical offerings
To the Gods
For bestowing Genius
The Circles, the Triangles
And the squares
They were centuries old
There were eleven Sangaku Tablets
Soon the tablets begin to melt
The Harvest Dragon was baking
Her from the outside
The gust of wind and fire
Pressing down on the shrine walls
Hidden behind the melting circles
Was a Katana
She grabs the Katana
And held it tightly to her chest
The blade was older
Then her bloodline
She chants a protection spell
And with the wind beneath her feet
She leap through the melting roof
High into the sky
Lucy could see
The moon casing its light
On every corner of the Region
Its laminating blanket
Seems to keep world in slumber
Unaware of the monster below
She falls back down
Landing gently on its head
She places the tip of the blade
On the scales that was just like
The orange leaves
That made the mountain glow
She began prayer that was just like
Those in her grandmother stories
Of Spirits and Demons
Of Vampires and Werewolves
Of Dragons and Witches
She thrust the blade that was
Older then her bloodline into
The head of the Harvest Dragon
And with that appeared
The Circle, the Triangle
And The Square
That were centuries old
Binding wings of the Harvest Dragon
That was longer than
A six-cabin train
The Harvest Dragon struggle
To break free
But the Shapes of Sangaku
Rolled it up into a ball of light
Both of them
Decent slowly to what is left
The depilated shrine
The ball of light
Transforms into an egg
A Harvest Dragon egg
Lucy opens her picnic basket
She takes out her Japanese Ham sandwich
She places the bottle of pot wine
Beside the sandwich
She takes the Harvest Dragon egg
And places it into her picnic basket
She sits on ground
She unwarps the cling wrap
From her Japanese Ham Sandwich
She takes a bite
The smell of cookies and ham
Began to intermingle inside her mouth
She pops open the pot wine
And takes a sip
The pot wine goes very well
With the sandwich that taste of
Cookies and ham
Lucy is happy
She feels like she is having
The perfect picnic party

9 Jan 14

Rated 7.5 (7.5) by 2 users.
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cling wrap not cling warp in line 9 dummy.
 — unknown

Way too much repetition for the form. It's pure prose stretched down the page.
 — jenn

Yikes!  The neverending poem!  This HAS its moments, but it goes on and on and pretty much keeps saying the same thing(s) over and over again.  If u cut out 1/2 of what's consistently repeated, you'd be amazed at how much better this piece would become.  As it is, it's not very digestible and for myself, tried my patience (and I have the patience of a saint) just getting all the way through it.  It's annoying, I think, but again, has its moments of merit, so don't take this too much to heart.  Maybe do some serious editing.  :-)
 — starr

Hi, I didn't mind it. It has a child like innocence that has some appeal. It's not really poetry though - prose disguised as poem by short lines. If you edit it you might want to start by making a decision as to past or present tense because you can't really have it both ways. - Scott.
 — scottnoidea

Too long, too mundane, too much detail, boring, not even a good ending.

Perhaps you should try children's books instead of poetry.  Or perhaps you had a little too much "pot" wine!
 — Isabelle5

Thx guys. For the comment. I will take it into consideration.
 — sahibtorun

the title of this reminds me of a Little Bear episode, which is nostalgic and heartwarming for me....


i didn't get further than line 67, it was just pissing around too much and couldn't bother waiting for the point.  sorry, no offense :)
 — jenakajoffer