A Teller of Tales

Written for:  The Sunday Whirl, Wordle #451

Words:  mouth, fluttered, door, ghost, sky, spring, step, weaving
        stories, boom, scuffling, temples 

Stories swept along
from the mouths of
one generation to 
the next.  They told
of ghost figures
tattooed on his temple.  
He weaved his way through
villages, a spring
in his step.  

When skies
shifted to purple
twilight, children 
would hear a boom
from his drum, as he passed
their doors.  Quickly, they
raced out, and gathered
'round to hear his legendary
tales.  Monarch butterflies 
fluttered overhead like
a halo of stained glass.

Ofttimes when the moon
mellow-yellows the night, 
people swear they can hear 
a faint scuffling of feet, 
and rat-a-tat-tat of drum.


About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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3 Responses to A Teller of Tales

  1. Sadje says:

    You’ve created a wonderful story Sara.


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