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Ended, Contest: Fox-Folk Poetry (Beast of the Month!)
Ended!
A mini contest for my mini Beast of the Month event!
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/20117695/
RULES
This is a poetry contest!
Should be about foxes or fox Skin-Folk (See Info here).
Should be a new poem written for this contest!
300 word max (but haikus are awesome, too!).
Max 3 entries per person.
And no, real poems don't have to rhyme!
Entries due within 24 hours of Sunday, June 5th (wherever you happen to live).
PRIZE
One winner will get a free semi-custom Fox Skin-Folk using one of the above sketches. Winner's poem will serve as the inspiration for their Fox.
Winner will be chosen based on what most inspires me, so don't be shy, give it a try! (Bahaha, that rhymed.)
(I may choose an extra winner if I'm really inspired and have the time to do extra prizes.)
Feel free to ask questions!
Skin-Folk are my own creation and belong to me, but the concept of spiritually imbued animal bits isn't an original idea. If you want to make your own spin on the idea, go for it, I'd love to see!
A mini contest for my mini Beast of the Month event!
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/20117695/
RULES
This is a poetry contest!
Should be about foxes or fox Skin-Folk (See Info here).
Should be a new poem written for this contest!
300 word max (but haikus are awesome, too!).
Max 3 entries per person.
And no, real poems don't have to rhyme!
Entries due within 24 hours of Sunday, June 5th (wherever you happen to live).
PRIZE
One winner will get a free semi-custom Fox Skin-Folk using one of the above sketches. Winner's poem will serve as the inspiration for their Fox.
Winner will be chosen based on what most inspires me, so don't be shy, give it a try! (Bahaha, that rhymed.)
(I may choose an extra winner if I'm really inspired and have the time to do extra prizes.)
Feel free to ask questions!
Skin-Folk are my own creation and belong to me, but the concept of spiritually imbued animal bits isn't an original idea. If you want to make your own spin on the idea, go for it, I'd love to see!
Category Contests / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 921 x 870px
File Size 133 kB
Awaking early to morning mist
I gaze upon the field yet to be kissed
by rays of the sun's golden light.
Yet, there in the high grass retreating
two souls weary from an evening fleeting.
Returning home for the night.
His red coat-tails flutter in the reeds.
Her wine colored dress bedazzled with beads
and a sash of gold and gray banding.
A flick and a flash of dew speckled fur.
They race through the grass as one crimson blur
feet still light from the whole night spent dancing.
Rapt and sleepy, I give in to a yawn.
I blinked but a moment and then they were gone
Leaving naught but the memory of their glancing.
Unfortunately mine might be too long, so I went ahead and posted it as a document, but I'm a little too proud of it not to enter it as a comment too. ^///////////^
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/20185188/
http://www.furaffinity.net/view/20185188/
Upon the trapper’s walls
Hang the spoils of his hunting.
Fine fox furs, for ladies shawls,
Ready, stretched and drying,
For market, to sell for gold.
Unknownst to him, while in his bed,
Are spirits spry and waking,
They slip from under doorways,
And under floorboards creeping,
To enjoy the hunter’s work.
“Lo is this?” they whisper,
“Such fresh forms for the taking!”
And climb into the supple skins,
The nails from them a’ shaking
To clatter to the floor.
“Oh glorious day,’ the spirits say,
Admiring fur so gleaming,
While they frolic in pools of light
Through the window streaming
Cast by a golden moon.
“Oh to have them always.”
They cheer, together dancing,
They circle the floor, paw in paw,
Their shadows all a’ leaping
With the shapes they held before.
One shadow was the widest,
His belly fat and wobbling,
From life with so much food and wine,
It one day sent him toppling
When his heart had given out.
Beside him was a taller one,
His long limbs thin and gangly,
While the other had died from much,
He had lived his last day lacking,
Of any food at all.
And next there was the shapely girl,
Her skirt around her twirling,
No jewels around her neck
But a rope used for a hanging,
For being called a witch.
Beside her was a shadow,
Short and bent from aging,
Whose family had put her away
For they were sick of waiting,
For the gold she had in store.
The last shadow was taller,
Wish a dance most gay and spritly,
His shoulders sharp from a uniform
Which he had worn so proudly,
Though he died young for the war.
But in the trapper’s house that night,
The dead, with joy, were singing,
For that one night of all the year
They could, about, move freely
While the vail was thin.
So while dancing all together,
They could share the age-old feeling
Of having life and form again,
And although if was so fleeting,
They cherished every breath.
It could not last forever,
And soon the moon was sinking,
But the foxes with their spirits
Did never start a weeping
For they knew they’d meet again.
The fox-skins stopped there fun,
With dawn light slowly creeping
Across their tails and furs.
The sprits left them laying
Upon the cabin floor.
So when the poacher rose
You’d find his head a shaking,
For his house was not what he’d
Expect to find at his waking,
And for years he never knew.
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