"An Art Fantasy Woman Folds Magic On the Top of a Hill"

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"An Art Fantasy Woman Folds Magic On the Top of a Hill"

I am an art fantasy woman
I look behind corners
to find my way.
I write about stories
I have lived and thus
relay them here for you
today.

The ground was hard
it did not yield
it told another message
this heartache shall remain there
deep under the ground.
Times I tried to find that spot again
alas
I never will.

An old woman came across my path
she beckoned me,
"Come my way art woman, artist child."
I followed her to the top of a nearby hill.
There
flowers around
we sat down on the grass together.
I felt the sun
heard the birds
applauded the possibilities of imagination
at her lovely bidding.

There on the hill we had cookies and tea
felt the day
shared the awe
that only nature can bring.

Old woman
graceful and seemingly wise
shared secrets and insights into books she had read.
I embraced them all.

She took a napkin from her lap
and told me to wait for magic.
I loved her tired hands and worn eyes
focused on her surprise for me.
She began folding the bright blue fabric
first into a triangle
then another
and as she separated the petals
I could see
she had indeed created two babes.
Her mouth formed a knowing smile.
For me
she rocked them
two rolled measures of bright blue fabric
back and forth
just to make me imagine
and what I had pretended
become real.

The day began to turn
dusk settled
birds nested
stars and moon would light my return.
I bid the old lady farewell.
"May I keep the babies?
Dear as they are?"

The old women grew sullen
took the babies from my hands
unfolded the triangles
that once seemed so splendid
so wonderfully grand.

"But... what about the babies!"  
I said in horror.
"I thought they were magic
I thought we shared that view?"

"Ohh, never mind about them
art woman of fantasy
they never exited anyway!"

The old woman had changed!

Why oh my
it grieved my mind and heart
where was I to go now
that she took imagination
stomped it out
unfolding my world
my fantasy fairy heart?

The old woman handed me the napkin
a grin on her face
kindness replaced.
Such evil intent
never expected
I cried behind sorrow
for the babies rejected.

She softened just a tad
as I turned and looked back
plotting my way down the hill.
I guess it was and still is
impossible to understand
this woman
so kind
so gentle
giving me magic
falling from grace.

At home alone
later that night
I opened my satchel
and pulled out my plight.
Those babies unraveled
I'd taken them home
and folded them back
to the  babes I had known.

I sought out a lesson
confused and let down
no matter the delivery
of a promise found
I would remember
 the old woman with fondness.
No misdeed would take that away.
I had been given something splendid
after all
I had imagination
for the whole of the day.

Imagination my friend
I will find you again
be an art fantasy woman
in the land of pretend.
Past the cold ground
I would go
and delightfully so.
Ahh yes,
the ground was hard
it did not yield
it told another message
this heartache shall remain there
deep under the ground.
Times I tried to find that spot again
alas
I never will.

16 March 2008
Kathy Ostman-Magnusen