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The Successors: A Simple Celebration
Between the incessant questions from palace officials about guest accommodations, the mobs of ponies flocking around her demanding that she sign this invitation or offer her approval for the color scheme of that banner, and the constant hubbub of busy chatter that filled every room in the palace to bursting, Princess Aurora was beginning to wish that her birthday didn’t have to happen every year; the headache was more than she could handle.
Oh, she could tell that Glass Eye sympathized with her plight – there was that tiny, sentimental glint in his one visible eye that usually meant he was about to put a hoof on her shoulder and offer her words of wisdom – but today, even her old advisor was caught up in the excitement.  His office was a buzzing beehive of bureaucracy as invitations, forms, and documents flew about the room in a telekinetic frenzy, while the unicorn himself stood behind his desk, quill in his magical grip, signing paper after paper that hovered b
:iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 4 3
As the Tree Falleth
Why, yes, Danielle, I take the greatest care
in grading your papers.  All us teachers do.
Sometimes we stand at the top of the stairs
with bulging stacks of essays in our arms,
then fling them down in a great flying heap
of flashing, flapping, fluttering white pages.
The ones that land the nearest to the top,
that fly on wings of skillful rhetoric,
that dance and leap on deft and dazzling metaphoric legs,
that jette and pirouette on nimble turns of phrase,
they’re obviously A-material. Meanwhile,
the poorly-written papers, weighted down
with jargon, run-ons, typos, comma splices,
lifeless, leaden prose that reads like legalese,
and clumsy shots at simile that crash like lead balloons,
well, these naturally land nearer to the bottom.
Trust me, Danielle, our method is infallible,
for “as the tree falleth, so shall it lie,”
and surely we can say the same for all
the tiresome words we print on dead trees.
:iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 1 0
Landscape Maintenance
I saw the men from the Pine Straw company
today, a half-dozen bearded jeans-clad laborers
scattering handfuls of coarse copper-colored
needles across patches of bare ground beneath boughs
of dark lovely live oak and long-armed poplar,
their faces smiling and sunny, the proud representatives
of that curious category of “landscape maintenance”
dedicated to doing Mother Nature’s makeup for her,
because apparently the pine trees in our neighborhood
didn’t do a good enough job of
maintaining the landscape.
And it made me wonder:
Maybe, if I get up early enough
one bright clear morning in April
and pull back the thick curtains and
peer out above the ragged green treetops,
I’ll see the men in gray jumpsuits
with hunched backs and bald spots, balancing buckets
atop giant stepladders, whistling birdsong
and diligently painting the sky blue.
:iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 0 0
A Headache
A ray of bold, gold overhead light
pierces my eye like an arrow and
plants its jagged dart in soft gray matter
that’s already red and tender.
I wince, and that’s when
the air-conditioning roars to life,
a manic commotion of muscle cars
that batters both my ears in booming
throbs that rock and rattle my eardrums.
Then, three knocks at my bedroom door
are stones that strike me square on the right
temple. “Leemmee alone,” calls out a voice
(it must be mine) to turn away
the uninvited guest, since now I know
I’ll have to drop out of the world for
two or three good hours, at least.
The light keeps burning, and I stumble
upwards out of the recliner, swimming
through a haze of blazing incandescent
yellow hellfire.
My eyes squeeze shut. A hand
(it must be mine) clamps itself over my face
to muffle the dull red daylight glow
that still seeps through the lowered lids.
Another hand, groping, finds the light switch.
A blissful sigh.
O sweet, blessed darkness,
how I wo
:iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 0 2
Cobalt Wordsmith by Portmeirion Cobalt Wordsmith :iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 0 3
The Successors: Chapter 18
The quiet in the Hall of Glass filled Aurora’s ears. It had been quiet for a long time now; the buzz of chatter that had filled the air had passed out the door, a little at a time, like air seeping out of a hot-air balloon.  Gone, now, were the nobles and aristocrats peering through monocles and offering their formal congratulations.  Gone were the press agents and photographers, pens and notepads hovering magically in the air in front of them, scribbling down notes while the cameras flashed.  Gone were the foreign dignitaries and ambassadors, wishing her well in accents so think that Aurora could do little but smile pleasantly and say, “Thank you, likewise.”  Now it was just Princess Aurora and the black-and-white marble tiles and the long red rug and the rainbow-colored moonlight that streamed in through the stained-glass windows – and, there, at the far end of the hall, the tall, gilded door behind which the Elements of Harmony rested and
:iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 5 2
The Successors: Chapter 17

Blue Moon shivered in fear.  Her hooves stood rooted to some invisible floor, and above her, beneath her, all around her, stretched an infinite, inky nighttime sky.  Everywhere she looked, she saw stars – huge radiant stars, faint distant stars, white stars, blue stars, tiny purple stars.   A thin, glowing mist filled the air around her, softly blurring her vision; if her sister was still close by, she couldn’t see her.  She wasn’t even sure whether she was dreaming – shouldn’t she be afraid now?  How was she breathing?  How did she get here?  Where was here, for that matter?
“H…hello?” she said nervously, and her voice echoed in the cavernous void.
She was not prepared for the response she got.
It was a Voice.  No, it was six Voices, speaking as one – or was it only one Voice, echoing six times in the void?  She couldn’t tell.  It was loud beyond description, loud e
:iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 4 5
The Successors: Chapter 16

It happened when Blue Moon and Summer Sun were in Canterlot, only a few months before their shared eighteenth birthday.
Their parents had been called to attend a cartographers’ conference, and had offered their daughters a chance to come along with them.  Both agreed enthusiastically.  Neither of the sisters had ever been to Canterlot before, but oh, they had heard about it.  Before the day was out, the two had used up an entire notepad scribbling out a list of the things they wanted to see on their trip.  Summer had the Canterlot Royal Gardens in mind, and Blue wanted to pay a visit to the Arcane University library, and they both hoped for a chance to tour the palace – and, perhaps, if they were lucky, to meet the princesses they both admired.
Blue was especially excited.  Princess Celestia had been her lifelong role model, her shining ideal, her hero, ever since that day when she had paid their family a visit when she and Summer were only fill
:iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 2 5
The Successors: Chapter 15

Quila Warwing’s earliest memory was of her mother, stretching her wing over her like a blanket while she slept to keep her out of the cold.  She remembered waking, looking up into her mother’s face, and seeing something in her eyes that made her feel safe, warm, loved.  She liked that feeling, and she found that she appreciated it more as she got older, and began to feel it less and less often.  But she always kept that memory with her: the soft, gentle smile on Frostbane’s lips, the half-open violet eyes looking down on her with motherly affection.  No matter how cold and distant Frostbane became in later years, whenever Quila thought of her mother, that was the face she always pictured.
She admired how strong her mother was.  When she was very small, Quila would watch her mother fly, and would try to mimic her strong wingbeats, and the way she could turn and dive and whirl with such speed and grace.  And when she was a little older,
:iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 2 6
The Successors: Chapter 14

Despite their divergent interests, Blue Moon and Summer Sun were alike in more ways than they were different.  They were instinctively compassionate, they laughed frequently, and they both loved stories.  Consequently, one habit they quickly developed was reading books together.  Summer especially loved it when Blue would read to her, and on warm summer days, when sun was shining and the air was just right, she would spent hours in a stretch lying under that beautiful old oak in their backyard while Blue’s familiar voice carried her into other worlds.  And Blue, though she liked to think of herself as a grown-up, was still very much a filly.  No matter how much she claimed to value hard work and study, at the end of the day she’d rather read adventure novels with her sister than pore over books of geography.  Summer had no end of fun teasing her about this.
But sometimes Blue would take it upon herself try new things, just because she liked
:iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 2 2
The Successors: Chapter 13

Ragnar Blacktalon’s skill lay in seizing the opportunities that presented themselves and exploiting them to their fullest potential.  This was something that had attracted Frostbane to him in the first place; he seemed like the kind of leader capable of building a nation that was wealthy, powerful, and secure, despite the limited resources at his disposal.   His territory was not very wide, his army was small, and, despite the rich diamond mines he held within his domain, Gloomhold was not exactly an economic powerhouse.  But every so often, a golden opportunity would come along, seemingly through sheer serendipity, and Blacktalon would seize it and use it to such great and terrible ends that he seemed less like the king of a small principality and more like some dread overlord of legend.
First had been the Windigo Stone.  Frostbane and her renegade band had found it while wandering in the mountains years ago, before they had ever sought refuge in the cast
:iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 2 2
The Successors: Chapter 12

Cold rain pattered rhythmically against the window.  Blue Moon stared out into the drizzle, anxiously scanning the yard with her eyes.  She thought she could make out the old oak on the hilltop, and the edge of the woods even further back, but the thick rain-curtain made everything seem hazy and gray.  She sighed, let the curtain fall back over the window, and began pacing the floor in a nervous circle.
Summer had been gone for hours.  When their father, Tripod, had said he needed a little help surveying the hillsides for a new map of the next county over, Summer had enthusiastically volunteered to accompany him – before immediately asking if Blue wanted to come along as well.  But Blue hadn’t slept well the night before, sick with a mild cold that left her tired and sore.  Summer, torn between sticking by Blue’s side and spending time with her father, eventually opted for the latter.
“I’m sorry, Blue.  I don’t
:iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 2 4
The Successors: Chapter 11

The birth of Quila Warwing, daughter of King Ragnar Blacktalon the griffon and Frostbane the pegasus, had caused quite a stir among the feathered folk of the Far North.  Frostbane had entered the country only a few years earlier, bringing with her a band of mercenary pegasi whose militant way of life had made them a poor fit for the peaceful culture of Equestria, and she had sworn fealty to Blacktalon to secure safe refuge for her troops.  It had taken much effort and bull-headed determination for Frostbane to work her way up the military ladder and become one of the king’s most trusted soldiers – then one of his most trusted generals, and then his personal consort.  Their first and only daughter was born shortly thereafter.
Quila’s birth might not have caused such a stir if it hadn’t coincided with a sudden change of climate in the Northlands.  Winter descended upon the mountains, a seemingly unending snowstorm, wrapping the land around
:iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 1 2
The Successors: Chapter 10

For most of their foalhood, Blue Moon and Summer Sun were very well-behaved.  Granted, there were moments of minor mischief here and there – sneaking out after bedtime to view a meteor shower on one occasion, “borrowing” a precious keepsake from their parents on another – but nothing truly serious ever so much as entered their heads, and one sister or the other usually ended up confessing even the smallest offenses.  Their parents trusted implicitly; their parents’ friends stated, time and time again, that they wished they had such polite foals; and, despite Summer’s comparatively low grades, their teacher thought of them as model students, and certainly no troublemakers.  Which is why it came as a small shock to everypony when the teacher, Miss Dewdrop, called their parents to the schoolhouse to talk.  Summer had been caught fighting.
The floor outside Miss Dewdrop’s office was cold and hard.  Summer sat with her b
:iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 2 5
The Successors: Chapter 9

Aside from Whirlwind, Blue Moon and Summer Sun didn’t have many close friends growing up.  This didn’t bother them terribly – they always had each other, after all – but there were times when Blue seemed almost reclusive, and that worried Summer.  The golden-maned filly was always the livelier and more outgoing of the two, always eager to introduce herself even if she didn’t form many lasting friendships, and at times it pained her to see her sister languishing in solitude; it seemed to her that Blue was really missing out.
Blue, for her part, was mostly content.  The other foals she met at school always greeted her with kind, smiling faces, and though they rarely shared anything beyond that, she wasn’t bothered.  She was solitary by nature, detached and terminally bookish, often seeming rather more grown-up than she really was. At any rate, she was usually perfectly happy to maintain her relationships with Summer and Whirlwin
:iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 2 4
The Successors: Chapter 8
Summer Sun loved animals, but she never owned a pet.  She was mostly content to look after the woodland creatures that once in a while came wandering out of the forest, offering them food and playing with the gentler ones – rabbits and chipmunks, squirrels and moles, anything cute and cuddly that wouldn’t try to bite her.  But by far Summer’s favorites were the three young red-breasted robins that nested in a small crabapple tree at the edge of their backyard – the very same birds that she had accidentally knocked out of their nest while catching butterflies earlier that year.
With the help of her parents and her sister, Summer had erected a bird feeder near the center of the crabapple grove, and took it upon herself as a personal duty to keep it filled.  She saw the birds often, usually at least once a day, sometimes dragging her sister along with her.  But Blue was happy to oblige; she was rather fond of the robins herself, but she was h
:iconportmeirion:Portmeirion 3 3

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Artist | Student | Literature
United States
College student, aspiring writer, jazz trombonist (semi-retired), Christian, unashamed brony, lover of progressive rock music, and all-around fun guy.

Christian Geek stamp by SynCallio Writers Stamp by shadow-wolf-haunts I Speak in Tropes by jocund-slumber The Friend Stamp by Busiris MLP: Friendship is Magic Stamp by ecokitty Sonic Rainboom stamp by AmberApple J.R.R. Tolkien Stamp I by seremela05 DON'T PANIC by KaiserFlames Pink Floyd Stamp by Bonfire22 Cowboy Bebop Stamp by fuzzalot Kansas by JZLobo Homestar ... Runner by TheStampCollection DW TARDIS Stamp by TwilightProwler Dream Theater by KeungLee DA Fanfic Writer by Wearwolfaa Dostoesvky by ClockworkStamps
So! This semester I'm taking a workshop course in poetry, so I'll be producing a new poem roughly once a week for the next few months. I've never tried my hand at poetry until now, and I'm still feeling my way around it, but - well, if I happen to produce anything that I'm pleased with, and if it gets reasonably good feedback, would anybody be interested in my posting it here? I'd like to have some new content to share every once in a while now that The Successors is done, and since I'll be writing these poems anyway, it just seemed convenient.

In unrelated news, I'm also starting to get serious about writing a novel. I credit :iconphasingirl: and her recently self-published fantasy novel Age of Valor: Heritage (which I'm currently enjoying very much) for inspiring me to scrape some old ideas together and actually get a book of my own under way. Obviously I'm still in the planning stages right now, but I hope to write the bulk of the first draft over the summer.

...and that's it for now. Be seeing you!
  • Listening to: Number Seven - Phideaux Xavier
  • Reading: Age of Valor: Heritage - D.E. Morris
  • Watching: Marvel's Agent Carter


Add a Comment:
GrimDreamArt Featured By Owner Apr 14, 2015  Professional Traditional Artist
A late thanks for watching me :D
Portmeirion Featured By Owner Apr 14, 2015  Student Writer
You're most welcome! Thank you for all the lovely art!
Eoweniel Featured By Owner Jan 13, 2015  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thank you for the :+fav:!
Portmeirion Featured By Owner Jan 13, 2015  Student Writer
You're most welcome!
phasingirl Featured By Owner Aug 10, 2013  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Portmeirion Featured By Owner Aug 10, 2013  Student Writer
Thank you!  Ha, I love that movie.  What a nice surprise!
phasingirl Featured By Owner Aug 13, 2013  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
You are most welcome!
MoreVespenegas Featured By Owner Dec 10, 2012  Hobbyist Digital Artist
Thanks for the favorite.
Portmeirion Featured By Owner Dec 10, 2012  Student Writer
You're most welcome!
The-Cowboy-Smuggler Featured By Owner Nov 25, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
Thanks a bunch for the watch! I appreciate it. c:
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