This little story was inspired by the short shown before the movie Cars by Pixar.
I started this little poem dealy not too long ago, but just go around to finish it. Give me input please. Tell me if you like it...or if you don't.
The smallest amount of kindness can be repaid in the most fabulous of ways.
Yet love can be destroyed, by evil's malevolent ways.
My explanation is portrayed through a romantic story
Of a singly lowly gypsy and a young maiden in all her glory.
There was once a handsome young gypsy who was mute and poor
But he could play the violin as well as an angel could soar.
The unfortunate soul met a rich young maiden who gave him a single piece of gold
And such a generous offer blossomed into romances untold.
So with our summary out of the way, we shall soon begin
To discover how that one kindness led to an unexpected end.
And so we meet our gypsy boy, who goes by the name of Thorn.
He sits and plays his violin until his fingers be torn.
He plays not just for money but out of the feelings from his heart,
From such joy so overwhelming or sorrow that tears one’s soul apart.
For young gypsy Thorn has nothing for himself to hold
Save his grandfather’s elegant fiddle with bow and strings of gold.
So he strikes up a tune as ladies swoon and children dance and sing
And makes passed grandfather proud while from heaven he’s listening.
Never does young gypsy cease and plays from dusk till dawn
And far into the indigo nights until a new day spawns
Now one day a maiden fair did so happen to pass,
As Thorn’s bow did glide as he sat upon the cracking, winter’s grass.
As she stopped to listen, pity filled her heart,
To see such a destitute soul create such a work of art.
And so she kissed a golden coin and laid it at his feet
Then lingered a moment more to tap her toe to the beat.
But as soon as she had come did she disappear
And Thorn did gaze after her taken by wonder and fear.
The starving dog raised his head and people silenced what they were saying
To turn and see why the sun was still up when the gypsy had stopped his playing.
The sun did fall and the moon did rise as Thorn gazed at the ground
Mesmerized by the fact that a simple woman had ceased his lovely sound.
He fingered her fine gold coin, which smelled of sweet perfume,
And then he wondered if he could find the balcony of her room
To play for her on his violin, to see her gentle smile
To be consumed in her flowery scent and please her all the while
So then Thorn did set off, on a meager quest
To find that beautiful maiden and play for her his best
It didn’t take him long, following heart and mind
Soon beneath the woman’s balcony himself did he find.
She wasn’t present at the time, yet he let that pass,
As he pulled out his bow and fiddle, laying the case upon the grass.
His bow slid across the string, a beautiful note to follow
One as deep as a thundering storm and the other as flighty as a sparrow
He played for a little while before his lady arrived
Her heart fluttered in excitement for she was quite surprised
The crickets and owls sang in song one or two more ballads
Before the maiden raised her hand to stop and asked, ‘ What is your name my handsome lad?
But Thorn merely stood with a longing expression wondering how to make her see
That a simple grunt was all he could give for he could not speak.
The morning came a solemn gray with the rising of the sun
And Thorn sat in the village square not knowing why he had run.
The girl had simply asked for his name, in which he could not give
And so he fled, delved in dread, and no longer wished to live.
He struck a gloomy song that made even the mockingbirds cry
Looming clouds blocked out the light and everyone wished to die.
How could he have been such an insolent boy, to think that he could love?
He a filthy, black-hearted raven and she a glorious dove.
The starving dog lifted his head to utter a mournful howl
Followed by the beckoning call of a morbid, banshee fowl
But hark; there came a shining light to turn the darkness to day
And Thorn looked up to see fair maiden lightly coming his way
But he couldn’t let her see him, so dirty, so filthy, so soiled
Not a man for such a lady, prim, proper and possibly spoiled.
Yet she had stopped him before he could flee, placing a hand upon his shoulder
Thorn shivered and turned to look wondering if the day had just gotten colder.
But at the sight of her azure eyes and glowing face set a blushing smile on the gypsy’s lips
And he couldn’t help but let his eyes stray for one moment from her hair and trail to her hips.
But his pleasures aside he met her eyes and asked with a questioning expression,
It looked to him as if she expected some sort of lengthy confession.
But not quite as he sat the night eating heartily at her table
Her father glowered, but mother grinned and let him consume as much as he was able
The maiden laughed as she sat and watched amazed by his appetite
But she didn’t understand his appreciation when usually for his meal he had to fight
All went well until the fateful moment when the father asked his name
He gazed long and hard and Thorn could only do the same
He swallowed hard as he would grunt and point and offer some sort of gesture
But impatient father growled with unanswered query and left his anger to fester.
Then Thorn saw an elegant rose and plucked it from its place
He pulled a needle from its stem and holding it about his face.
“ Thorn,” the dear maiden asked as she led him through the garden.
“ Is that you name,” she asked again and her appearance seemed to harden.
“ It’s a rather unfitting name, for you’re not sharp or harmful,
Your face is kind and your heart seems warm, but your eyes are awfully doleful.”
She led him to a crystal fountain where the clear waters trickled
And the moonlit ambiance of the moment made Thorn’s spine tingle.
He looked down into the maiden’s eyes, the instant brimming with bliss
And suddenly they found themselves in love’s first mystical kiss.
But less than smiles awaited them as they pulled away
And angry father stood before them, only the shock keeping him at bay.
Another dreary morning that day and to the gallows he marched
The crowd did cry for the poor boys soul until their tears were parched.
“ Such an innocent lad,” they cried. “ Who led an honest life,
Why must you repay his love with such cruelty and strife?
He only deserved a lover, a woman who was beautiful and kind,
And now you steal away young love and life, you must be out of your mind!”
A single motion, a clean chop and down the brave boy fell
And there he dangled dreadfully, just out of reach of hell.
And little did pitiless governor know or did he think to save
His lovely daughter from shedding her coursing blood across her lover’s grave
So our story ends my friends, perhaps not as happy as you would expect.
Perhaps such lesson can be learned that we don’t let malice, our hearts, infect
Be wary of where or in whom you find true love
Whether it be a binding prison or a fleeting dove
Under love a strong heart can be delicate, oh how it turns and bends
So be careful of those dear or nay, and thus I say, the end.
Yet love can be destroyed, by evil's malevolent ways.
My explanation is portrayed through a romantic story
Of a singly lowly gypsy and a young maiden in all her glory.
There was once a handsome young gypsy who was mute and poor
But he could play the violin as well as an angel could soar.
The unfortunate soul met a rich young maiden who gave him a single piece of gold
And such a generous offer blossomed into romances untold.
So with our summary out of the way, we shall soon begin
To discover how that one kindness led to an unexpected end.
And so we meet our gypsy boy, who goes by the name of Thorn.
He sits and plays his violin until his fingers be torn.
He plays not just for money but out of the feelings from his heart,
From such joy so overwhelming or sorrow that tears one’s soul apart.
For young gypsy Thorn has nothing for himself to hold
Save his grandfather’s elegant fiddle with bow and strings of gold.
So he strikes up a tune as ladies swoon and children dance and sing
And makes passed grandfather proud while from heaven he’s listening.
Never does young gypsy cease and plays from dusk till dawn
And far into the indigo nights until a new day spawns
Now one day a maiden fair did so happen to pass,
As Thorn’s bow did glide as he sat upon the cracking, winter’s grass.
As she stopped to listen, pity filled her heart,
To see such a destitute soul create such a work of art.
And so she kissed a golden coin and laid it at his feet
Then lingered a moment more to tap her toe to the beat.
But as soon as she had come did she disappear
And Thorn did gaze after her taken by wonder and fear.
The starving dog raised his head and people silenced what they were saying
To turn and see why the sun was still up when the gypsy had stopped his playing.
The sun did fall and the moon did rise as Thorn gazed at the ground
Mesmerized by the fact that a simple woman had ceased his lovely sound.
He fingered her fine gold coin, which smelled of sweet perfume,
And then he wondered if he could find the balcony of her room
To play for her on his violin, to see her gentle smile
To be consumed in her flowery scent and please her all the while
So then Thorn did set off, on a meager quest
To find that beautiful maiden and play for her his best
It didn’t take him long, following heart and mind
Soon beneath the woman’s balcony himself did he find.
She wasn’t present at the time, yet he let that pass,
As he pulled out his bow and fiddle, laying the case upon the grass.
His bow slid across the string, a beautiful note to follow
One as deep as a thundering storm and the other as flighty as a sparrow
He played for a little while before his lady arrived
Her heart fluttered in excitement for she was quite surprised
The crickets and owls sang in song one or two more ballads
Before the maiden raised her hand to stop and asked, ‘ What is your name my handsome lad?
But Thorn merely stood with a longing expression wondering how to make her see
That a simple grunt was all he could give for he could not speak.
The morning came a solemn gray with the rising of the sun
And Thorn sat in the village square not knowing why he had run.
The girl had simply asked for his name, in which he could not give
And so he fled, delved in dread, and no longer wished to live.
He struck a gloomy song that made even the mockingbirds cry
Looming clouds blocked out the light and everyone wished to die.
How could he have been such an insolent boy, to think that he could love?
He a filthy, black-hearted raven and she a glorious dove.
The starving dog lifted his head to utter a mournful howl
Followed by the beckoning call of a morbid, banshee fowl
But hark; there came a shining light to turn the darkness to day
And Thorn looked up to see fair maiden lightly coming his way
But he couldn’t let her see him, so dirty, so filthy, so soiled
Not a man for such a lady, prim, proper and possibly spoiled.
Yet she had stopped him before he could flee, placing a hand upon his shoulder
Thorn shivered and turned to look wondering if the day had just gotten colder.
But at the sight of her azure eyes and glowing face set a blushing smile on the gypsy’s lips
And he couldn’t help but let his eyes stray for one moment from her hair and trail to her hips.
But his pleasures aside he met her eyes and asked with a questioning expression,
It looked to him as if she expected some sort of lengthy confession.
But not quite as he sat the night eating heartily at her table
Her father glowered, but mother grinned and let him consume as much as he was able
The maiden laughed as she sat and watched amazed by his appetite
But she didn’t understand his appreciation when usually for his meal he had to fight
All went well until the fateful moment when the father asked his name
He gazed long and hard and Thorn could only do the same
He swallowed hard as he would grunt and point and offer some sort of gesture
But impatient father growled with unanswered query and left his anger to fester.
Then Thorn saw an elegant rose and plucked it from its place
He pulled a needle from its stem and holding it about his face.
“ Thorn,” the dear maiden asked as she led him through the garden.
“ Is that you name,” she asked again and her appearance seemed to harden.
“ It’s a rather unfitting name, for you’re not sharp or harmful,
Your face is kind and your heart seems warm, but your eyes are awfully doleful.”
She led him to a crystal fountain where the clear waters trickled
And the moonlit ambiance of the moment made Thorn’s spine tingle.
He looked down into the maiden’s eyes, the instant brimming with bliss
And suddenly they found themselves in love’s first mystical kiss.
But less than smiles awaited them as they pulled away
And angry father stood before them, only the shock keeping him at bay.
Another dreary morning that day and to the gallows he marched
The crowd did cry for the poor boys soul until their tears were parched.
“ Such an innocent lad,” they cried. “ Who led an honest life,
Why must you repay his love with such cruelty and strife?
He only deserved a lover, a woman who was beautiful and kind,
And now you steal away young love and life, you must be out of your mind!”
A single motion, a clean chop and down the brave boy fell
And there he dangled dreadfully, just out of reach of hell.
And little did pitiless governor know or did he think to save
His lovely daughter from shedding her coursing blood across her lover’s grave
So our story ends my friends, perhaps not as happy as you would expect.
Perhaps such lesson can be learned that we don’t let malice, our hearts, infect
Be wary of where or in whom you find true love
Whether it be a binding prison or a fleeting dove
Under love a strong heart can be delicate, oh how it turns and bends
So be careful of those dear or nay, and thus I say, the end.
