Christina Rossetti’s Goblin Market
One of my all-time favorite poems, though I cannot recite it from memory yet; this deserves to be in inspiration corner because of the beautiful haunting sceneries Rossetti sets up for the reader.
Goblins tempting young maidens to buy their fruits, though maidens must never buy fruits from goblin men lest they desire a dismal end; very inspiring in an artistic way too, for me. The times I have read this poem and thought, I wish I could do better art, I would paint these fruits and the goblin men in the market; but I do not have the skills to do that as of yet, that will be attempted in the future though.
This is my favorite as it is a fantasy poem and I think this review deserves to be on a site such as this, fantasyfed, don’t you?
So near and yet still so far
I’ve a long way to get home
I cannot tell how far it is
So until then I’ll have to roam
I seek home here and I seek home there
Where there are better days
I need my reality to come to check
I feel like I’m in a craze
What am I and who will I be?
That’s the question now
Maybe I will find out some day
But until then I’ve much to plough
As I walk into the valley of the shadow of death
I fear no evil
For evil is me
And I am it
Though darkness surrounds my very soul
I fear not the legends of monsters old
For I am a monster
And I am old
And though I seem fragile, dainty and weary
I am but an illusion
I am your confusion
I am strong, I am fierce and I never tire
For blood is my desire
I am the whispers of Carpathian folk
The night mistress of blood
With her vampire kinsfolk
I am they
And they are me
And together we will for eternity, be
I am a mix, a cocktail of habits and idiosyncrasies
I am a person
I am my self
I control what I like and what I do
I do them for me and not for you
I am a rainbow of surprises
And what you’ll know of me is what I gift to you
You may not see the whole picture
To survive one person has many masks
Do not trust those with few
Nothing is completely black and white
Everything and everyone is an array of color
An enmeshment of flavors
We are our chefs of life
Go forth, be yourself, in delight
My mind is like a gallery, with pictures you can’t see
Oh how I wish you’ll see them, what sights there are in me
My memories of lavender fields and brightly colored stones
And kestrels up on the wing, over my head have flown
Delightful little butterflies who have landed on my hand
And baby swans upon the lake all over this pleasant land
I have seen such wonders, such a joy to see
Little rabbits playing, frolicking by trees
I have seen the otter holding its mother’s hand
I have seen a rainbow, arching over our land
The little things in life are sweet
I find nature a beautiful treat
I like writing very prosy descriptions from time to time and I was wondering if there was a market for prose fiction novels where there is a storyline but it’s mostly prose, such as;
The sand was warm to walk upon, like a heated blanket, she felt wrapped in a blanket of light. She looked into the blue skies of noon and smiled to herself, for her love was far away on the ocean pirating his life for her wealth, so she could maintain her velvety fashions.
Her red hair blew in front of her eyes, giving the world a rusty tinge, the ocean seemed like melted copper when it did that, and her thoughts drifted into memories of the last time she was with Timothy.
I like writing like this sometimes, but I sometimes worry that there’s no market for it and that publishers will simply ask me to not to describe things so much, when over description was my intention.
I like reading things like this but not all the time and I was wondering if there’s a market that’s not been touched yet and the reason behind it is because publishers and agents are becoming afraid of new forms of writing (in my opinion).
As a fantasy reader I prefer prose like fantasy books than those traditional types of books. Who agrees with me? Please comment…
A mix of colors in my jar makes it seem I’ve captured rainbows
My sugary treats tastes so great, I hope that you won’t suppose that I’d share these with you?
My little sweet drops of dew?
They’re mine, all mine!
I will not share
Do not ask for one
Don’t you dare!
They’re my tasty beans
They’re my favorite treat
Oh hang on there, isn’t he sweet?
He can have one, but you cannot
Here you are my little tot
I’d better hurry up and eat the lot