Prompted Poems – Perfect World

A perfect dream? (Haiku)

In a perfect world
We’d ideally get along
Is it just a dream?

Misunderstood (Limerick)

Getting along would be good,
Loving each other we should.
But some people hate,
Forgetting would be great.
If only they weren’t misunderstood.

Ruined (Cinquain)

Our world
Is beautiful
Many vistas to see
But neglect can turn it to ash

Perfect World (Acrostic)

Perpetually spinning
Eternal in orbit
Radiance of Sun embraced
Flowing long rivers
Erupting volcanoes rage
Cold winter poles
Traversing mountains and forest

Will be ruined by arrogance
Oppressed by tyrants
Ruined by pollution
Littered by rubbish
Destroyed by ignorance

We’re not perfect! (Monotetra)

The whole wide world is beautiful.
It’s lush plants and trees are fruitful.
It’s growing life is mutable.
It’s provable, It’s provable

But our ignorance can infect.
Our arrogance promotes neglect.
We all should do more to respect.
We’re not perfect! We’re not perfect!


Laura Steel © 2014

The Wandering Poet (Part 2) – Respite in Khrysos

One night at the summit of Mon’Aurum was enough to the poet Gredoe. His extremities were numb and hurting and he was almost out of food. He was however happy that in those moments of bitter pain he had come up with at least a few poems he could be proud of. With the nearest place to even resemble civilization was Khrysos, he knew where his next journey would take inevitably him.

After half a days journey through the snow he had made it.

“Oh my, isn’t that glorious,” he said as his neck was straining, looking at the large gates of entry into the underground city.

“Good thing that I’m here. I think my toes have snapped off,” As he continued to talk to himself, walking through the gates.

He was rather surprised to see that the guards were letting outsiders in, despite the rumors that the Prince had absconded he place within the castle. There was of course no reason to keep people out when they were only there to keep one person in.

Still he proceeded through, as his hunger was now dictating his direction.

“I think I’ll have something to say about all this!” He noted continuing down the street towards the most visible inn.
“Oh my yes, this is a good place to be, at least for my poor toes.” He added, oblivious to the stares of some of the locals.

Entering the inn, he had made a direct move towards the fireplace and sat down. Not before remembering to take out his pen and parchment from his pack.

Continued: Poems of the Wandering Poet (Part 2)

Laura Steel © 2014

Poems of the Wandering Poet (Part 2)

City of Cold Gold (Limerick)

There is a City of Gold
It’s shiny, gleaming and bold.
It has a great look,
Hid away in it’s nook,
But I’m not a fan of the cold.

The Cruel King (Limerick)

Such a beautiful city
Built by those that I pity
But such is the cruel King
Who had them duly sing
“We wish it was more pretty!”

Frozen Toes (Epigram/Limerick)

I thought my toes were lost,
From the bitterness of the frost.
I sit by the fire, getting them dryer,
So hungry now it has become dire.

Whim (Echo Verse)

Where is the Prince?
A while now, he has left.
No on his own.
It appears so.
No above ground.
He has not been heard.
He said nothing.
He didn’t pack supplies.
No it’s all true
No I didn’t, but I suspect.
I will look for him.

Blinded Greed (Chaining Rhyme)

With in the cavernous hall,
Of brown rocks jagged edge.
A lone city stands tall,
As does much of the sedge.

Each dazzling polished face,
Has a reflective shine.
Too criminal to deface,
Something so utterly divine.

A pain to the people,
Constructing til death.
From ground to steeple,
Until their last breath.

A king of such greed,
Never satisfied at all.
Abuse of his power,
Will cause his long fall.

Previous: The Wandering Poet (part 2) – Respite in Khrusos

Laura Steel © 2014

The Wandering Poet (part 1) – Atop Mon’Aurum

Packed with supplies and tools, a rather exhausted poet Gredoe, from a small town in the eastern continent sits down to catch his breath. Among the clang of pots and tenting equipment is his pockets of pens and parchment. Collecting his second wind took longer as he wanted as he looked back onto the canopy of the of forest he had just walked through and the cliff he had to scale reach the mountain top of Mon’Aurum.

The cold was starting to nip through his thick clothes. The light was dimming and he knew he had to set up camp. But he knew he couldn’t.

“I should unpack…but I will just get this down…” Said Gredoe to himself.

Inspiration had struck and his instinct was to grab his writers tools, not the ones to survive.

“Now where was that pen?” He dumped down his back pack without a thought of care over it’s contents.

“Ahh here we go.” The pen held in his right hand had touched down on the parchment that was stored in a leather bound case which was caressed with his left.

“Oh my yes!” His ideas sparked the front of his mind like a crowd trying to fit through a narrow door.

“Brrrr, just wish it wasn’t so cold!” Mumbling to himself like the madman his home town proclaimed him to be.

Even at this altitude and temperate, it was too much for even the excitement to block. There was however a far pressing matter to attend too.

Continued: Poems of the Wandering Poet (part1)

Poems that were inspired as a continuation of this flash fiction.

Laura Steel © 2014


Poems of the Wandering Poet (Part 1)

Previous: The Wandering Poet (Part 1) – Atop Mon’Aurum
Flash fiction that was the bases of the following poems.

The pain of others (Chaining Rhyme)

I see what others do not,
a world of deepening pain.
It’s growth is never sought,
life is grown in strain.

Blocked healing by a clot,
greed and hate do sustain.
Love that friends forgot,
slay each other in vain.

Bodies start to rot,
of innocents of the slain.
Evil stands on those who fought,
expands it’s dreadful reign..

Writing while frozen (Chaining Rhyme)

A howling wind causes fright,
like breath from a drake.
A canvas of pure white,
easy under foot does it break.

Ink and lines blurred from sight,
as snow falls form of flake.
My hands can barely write,
on parchment of my own make.

Ones mind begins to fight,
the body tries to shake.
This cold is a dreaded blight,
as fingers start to ache.

The world from above (Double Tetractys)

Mountain clouds
See the forest
Below me I watch the whole world go by
It’s beauty is without question, I gaze.
Life living on
Were as I

Mountain Cold (Haiku)

The cold is biting
The white death is coming if
I let it claim me

Frozen Inspiration (Epigram)

This cold is beyond contemplation,
Had I known I would not have come.
But material for writing is temptation,
I just wish I wasn’t numb!

Woah! (Echo Verse)

Why am I up here?
No, material to write.
Up high on a hill.
Yes it’s very cold.
I know, it was daft.
I have written something.
No, their poems about snow.

Laura Steel © 2014

Oringal Prompt:

A Dolphin Pod Poem

From depths they jive
Under vast open
Every day they skive
The aqua in motion

From penetrating dive
They live unbroken
As one they thrive
Bonds form devotion

A pod forever
Surviving outspoken
On journeying endeavour
Subversive provoking

Conveying weather
Alive and woken
Uplifted by zephyr
A glancing token

When time is right
They’re joyful dances
Leap into flight
At moment glances

Sun strikes light
Into darken advances
Given no fright
They take their chances

A family of dolphin
Go on unbound
Living as kin
In liquid surround

To each they grin
A click of sound
Glistening skin
They’re beauty astound

Laura Steel © 2014

Prompt :

Inevitable Consequence

It’s normal to expect the best out of people but coercing it is a different matter. Either through a gentle means of encouragement or a somewhat backhanded form of manipulation.

Any aspect of life can be affected this way; social, economical, spiritual, etc. Even the mind and soul of a person can too, including the body through surgical or genetic alteration.

Always wanting the best in something can bring out the worst in people, specially the worst in those not content enough to accept flaws. Flaws in others or themselves, in anything they believe in or have any control over.

Some things are inevitable, they will happen with or without a helping hand. It’s called evolution. To actually force the issue is almost always at the detriment of the subject.

It can be instantly or as an unforeseen series of consequences lasting generations.

Almost always because the person(s) manipulated has found out about the transgression that has been thrust upon them with out their permission.

It’s one thing for them to offer a hand and hope it’s reached back. It’s another to and have them dragged along, kicking and screaming. More than anything you can expect either a cold calculated move or an over emotional response.

Retaliation in protest or retribution as violence.

Laura Steel © 2014

Prompt :

On the run

On the run

For one such renowned respect to be found with the blood of another Solarian on their blade could never be contemplated. But there was an unspoken love for those who dedicated their lives to protect those of others.

The Knight Raezial was in such a position but allowing the deaths of innocent people with out a fair trial could not be tolerated, even from a death sentence dictated by an Inquisitor towards a family, which was still within the confines of the law.

The law itself was considered to have been abused by many, examined often about it’s validity. It was, however, by many, considered as such from the peasants of the town of Forasurb, to even the scholars of Solaris; although the latter never spoke out about it in public.

The razored edge still dripping with the viscous bodily fluid of their superior put them in a very difficult position. She had broken the law, unquestionably and without remorse – but in many eyes justified. Knowing her fate was sealed, she had two choices: hand herself in – or run.

She knew it wouldn’t be ideal, starting a new life outside the region of the Order’s influence would be a welcome reprieve and would permit a career in helping those in need outside bureaucratic interference.

A much relished distraction for someone who had grown tired of the laws that seemed so unjust – to those it was designed to protect. She wouldn’t be the first to do so in the Orders existence. She made her choice with the cheered praise of the crowd, even when they knew that had lost another champion, just like Lord Ayron.

Laura Steel © 2014


The Vigilant Guard

Many of the guards stood watch over the palisade, scanning the horizon of ocean waves west from the town of Urbemare for pirate ships and beyond.

Bare iconography from one of the now forgotten cities that laid leagues under the reflective expanse, the armour would overtime turn black through reaction to the open air, constant cleaning was required as a formal discipline.

Staring out towards the sea, across what was once the ancient sunken continent of Mersusea, one of the oldest serving guards Jareth.

His heart was heavy with grief over the loss of his partner, still after many years. After hearing the news he wanted no one else in the village to suffer the same pain and heart ache, adorning the towns armour with pride.

Some part of him wished for his lover to return, unknowingly from what was to be at the time an ill fated fishing trip. At the time of his partner’s death, Jareth was likewise a fisher, held back due to illness. Something he regretted constantly.

Duly protecting all from harm, his vigilance would always be torn between protecting those under his care and hoping that one day he would be reunited with his love.

Laura Steel © 2014


The witch of Asperia forest

Witch Lake 2

Located in the inner most centre of the forest of Asperia lived a lone women who locally went by the only name Alacia. A rather young women who had been chosen by the Coven of Striga and trained in their ways, upon finding out her rather proficient aptitude in magika. Previously a peasant girl, she was saved from the monotony of her previous profession of weaving.

Much like her counterparts in other places in the world, who were studying exotic plants, fungi and rare animals, in the hopes of drawing from them their various Aspects – the elements of life. She would use her new knowledge of magika to study the wild life of the large open lake in the middle of Asperia. Focusing on the Ichthyology of the lake due to it’s unique properties.

It’s true depth was unknown and the acidic waters proved to be fatal to all but the life that had evolved within. It had been suggested that it had formed from a now inactive volcano, it’s caldera now the basin in which life thrived within the cloudy caustic liquid.

She would document her findings in tomes of various sizes depending on what she discovered, hoping one day to be recognised fully and admitted into the Coven for her commitment to furthering the knowledge of the world’s wonders and the Aspects.

Everyone’s assumptions on the origins of the lake’s strange properties however were gravely underestimated …

Laura Steel © 2014