Snow White and Rose Red

Wed, 08/30/2017 - 20:03 -- ehanson

It was quite late at night.

A fire lit up the house.

My sister, called Snow White,

Embroidered Mama’s blouse.

 

The stitches were of blooms:

Some white, the others red.

I sat, using the loom,

And wove the leaves instead.

 

Our Bear sat calm and still,

And often he spun tales

More fanciful than frill,

Of princesses and sails.

 

The stories struck our souls -

Could we do all those things?

Our Mama stoked the coals

And said to chase our dreams.

 

Us sisters, and our Bear,

Set off in search of gold.

We found the dragon’s lair,

And trekked to mountains cold.

 

We learned the ways of war

And swords and bows and staves.

We always wanted more,

But Bear stopped us one day.

 

And then, inside the hut,

A witch took out a knife.

Aghast, we thought the cut

Would end our dear Bear’s life.

 

Instead, a man emerged

From depths of bone and fur.

The witch had seen, and purged

The curse, a saboteur.

 

It shocked me to my core.

My Bear - a man? A prince?

I thought of times before,

And every instant since.

 

We’d laughed, we’d cried, we’d slept

With roses near our heads.

I just could not accept

The truth, woven in reds.

 

But Bear, despite his form,

Still had the same, deep soul

That weathered every storm,

And fought with every troll.

 

And as he talked to me,

I came to see that, yes,

This man, our Bear now free,

Had always been with us.

 

We had our own spun tales,

Like sugar on the sea.

We told of dragon’s scales,

The fairies’ little key.

 

‘Round fires we told of kings,

Of witches, dwarves and gold.

And, there, we showed the rings

To prove we had been bold.

 

Returning home, we found

Our stories had spread far.

With others they’d been wound,

To change the very stars.

 

So others heard the call:

They followed their own hearts.

Adventure had enthralled

These youths with its new starts.

 

And Bear stayed on his throne,

To share what he now knew.

But once the peace was sown,

He sought adventure, too.

 

So, once you’ve held a spear,

And every path you’ve tread,

Please think us pioneers:

Snow White and Rose Red!

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