Iron Poet, Round XIII.
Welcome to the latest round of Iron Poet, the game where you give me three words and I give you a poem. This is an adaptation of a standard writer's workshop activity, and I do not claim the original concept. I just claim to enjoy doing it
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And they say that you'll sing me a beautiful song,
Six measures, at least--if we both can be strong,
I will put on a red cloak, for you.
Come to me, Beast, running hard through the wood,
Down the long, winding path between wicked and good,
When sorrow has ceased, when we'll be understood,
I will put on a red hood, for you.
Come to me, Beast, for our story is old,
And the ways that they twist it are so often told,
For we'll be released if we just can be bold:
I will put on a red cloak, for you.
Come to me, Beast, leaving tracks in the snow,
Let the scarlet I wear tell you which way to go,
And I'll be your feast--you'll devour me slow.
I will put on a red hood for you.
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