literature

The Wishing Well

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Emily-Byrd's avatar
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Literature Text

You'd think I would have sense enough
Not to drop straight in.
You'd think I wouldn't lean so far
With me being so thin.
But lean I did and fall I must,
So on and on I fell
Right into the hollow darkness
Of the wishing well.

It seemed to last an age or two,
That second flashing by.
It did not feel quite real at all;
I didn't think to cry
So what do you think happened there
When I reached the end?
There was no water at the base
In which I could descend!

It looked like water, sure enough,
But none was there to find.
Just a filmy bubble-thing...
Like glass and skin combined.
I passed straight through and floated down
Into a little room,
So blue in hue and dimly lit!
I peered into the gloom.

A tiny cough came from a desk
Beneath an eerie lamp
There sat a man; I studied close.
He looked just like a tramp.
Patches checkered his old suit,
His wild white hair grew long.
He stared at me and slowly stood
To whisper, "What is wrong?"

"I'm not sure I'm awake or not,"
I faltered, stepping back.
"Oh, come now son," he crackled forth.
"You think I will attack?
I'm only the old Wishing Man.
What danger could I be?
Now take a breath and settle down.
What do you want from me?"

The Wishing Man. What did he mean?
He circled 'round his chair.
The Wishing Man. A flash of hope.
At last I was aware.
A wishing man. A wishing well.
It all fell into place.
He looked at me with ancient eyes,
A smile on his face.

"I wish…" I said. He nodded fast.
My heart was pounding now.
Could he really grant this hope?
I stammered, wondering how.
"You see, my father's gone to war,
...And if it's what you do…
Don't let him die… just bring him home,
Safe and sound and soon!"

The gentleman swayed thoughtfully
And calmly closed his eyes.
"Done," he said quite suddenly
To my great surprise.
A swell of wonder filled my heart,
A joy I can't describe
And all at once he room went black
I was in for one more ride.

I landed in the scuffed-up dirt
Right beside the well.
I stood up, stunned, bewildered,
As if waking from a spell.
I heard my mother call my name,
Her face with gladness shone.
"I just received a telegram!
Your father's coming home!"
For For :iconliteraturehideout: 's 5DaysOfNovemberChallenge. Day 5: FREEDOM! :D Here ye are. 
© 2014 - 2024 Emily-Byrd
Comments29
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Chezzy-Am's avatar
:star::star::star::star: Overall
:star::star::star::star::star: Vision
:star::star::star::star-half::star-empty: Originality
:star::star::star::star::star: Technique
:star::star::star::star::star-empty: Impact

I'll admit that the story in itself was a bit of an overused construction, because I've read stories about wishing wells. But with that said, I do admit that your story's approach, the use of the rhyme scheme, and the way you have constructed your poem in general, has definitely earned my attention. It was concrete, solidly based on a narration, had good character motivations, was written in a manner which kept my attention, and it was actually well thought out.

I especially liked the way you have used the punctuation and the formatting in this story, which work wonders and add to the appeal of this story. I especially liked how this work didn't waver in any forced direction and kept focused on its content.

With that said, I think that the element of the wishing man, which was kept minimalist, did manage to work okay with this work in general. At least for me it managed to deliver on its contents well, but if there was a little more added to the aspect of the wishing well and the wishing man, I feel it would have worked more to the benefit of the poem. That is my critical consideration of this poem. Apart from that though, I think that you've written a good work.

Well done <img src="e.deviantart.net/emoticons/t/t…" width="15" height="15" alt=":thumbsup:" data-embed-type="emoticon" data-embed-id="262" title="Thumbs Up"/>