“I will not marry him.”
Destiny did not prepare the gardener for the sight which greeted him in the morning sun. The noble daughter, sweetly sipping tea while admiring roses, and her gentleman courter writhing in dewy grass. Life did not prepare him to grab the unwitting belle and drag her to a horse.
“You have to go.”
“I will not.” Thin arms surrounded his neck.
Romeo ushered his Juliet onto the nearest mare with a promise he would not be far behind.
I wish I could say the story is only similar in name.
Alas, it ends the same.
PHOTO PROMPT © Fatima Fakier Deria
And thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for rounding Friday Fictioneers up.
There’s something written in the heavens, stolen by your pen, lord knows it’ll be a masterpiece once returned again.
All great poets ascended to the stars, leaving wisdom on a path that is only ours.
How shall you find it and what should you do?
My love, the Gods have plagiarized you.
Voices like honey and ink that scrolls divine, does nothing to betray the beauty of words you find.
Romeo and Juliet have no choice, they fall at your doorstep, battered and bruised in rejoice
Like all great loves they must pass through your inkwell, finding salvation; without, there is only true damnation.
But still the question falls to you, what ever shall you do?
My love, the stars saw inside your mind and stole the very words we struck out to enshrine.
For there was something written in the heavens, stolen by your pen
Lord knows, it’ll be a masterpiece once returned again.