Hey guys! I know I still have a lot of work cut out in Cross of Boundries…. Thank you so much if you've read and reviewed it! I'll keep updating that one as often as possible although I'll sneak a chapter in for this every once in a while.
Summary: Lily and James connecting through poetry and short stories, written by others and themselves. Based in their 7th year. Sorry this may be the worst summary ever.
Poetry
Chapter 1
Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
A typical weekday morning usually found its self with the Head Boy and Girl in opposite ends of the common room, doing whatever they please. Usually, Lily ate dinner, and did all of her homework with her friends, Alice, Marlene and Mary in the Library, messed around with them for an hour or two, and then came up to the common room, settled in a chair and read.
The head boy was a different story
He would get out of class; disappear for several hours before returning, covered in varying unidentifiable substances. What was worse was when they were identifiable. Blood, water, sewer water, multiple potions and others weren't uncommon. He would then sneak back down to the kitchens for an 8 o'clock snack. (If Lily cared, she would find it weird that James had to have 6 square meals a day) Although he had gotten drastically better and less big-headed over the years, even Lily had to admit that, he was still a long way from a gentleman. Lily could now stand to be in the same room with him. This was HUGE considering the past few years. Even with that improvement, The Head Girl still stayed as far away as the Common room would allow.
"What are you reading?" James voice came from the couch where he was spread out, his transfiguration essay and ink bottle in front of him.
"Robert Frost" Lily said shortly, bluntly and sweetly before she turned back to her book and went back to ignoring him.
"Robert who?"He lifted his head up from the couch to give her a skeptical glance.
"Robert Frost" She said again in a child speaking voice.
"What kind of name is Robert Frost?"
"He's a poet." She said as if this described everything.
"Must be a bad one,"
"He writes some of the most famous poetry ever."
"Does he write about being picked on as a kid for his name?"
Flipping her hair out of her eyes, she sat up irritably. Closing the book while marking the page with her finger, she placed it on her lap and glared at him.
"Well, Potter," She said, feeling dark satisfaction when he twitched at the sound of his surname. "Maybe you should have a clue before you start talking."
"Excuse me sweetheart, I do have a clue, and the clue is telling me that poetry is lame. It's only words."
Lily's mouth drooped to her toes. She attempted to talk, but her mouth only made the movements.
"Only words? At least they can talk without sounding barbaric. At least they know words unlike someone I know."
I will have you know, my dear little Evans. I can talk perfectly fine and un-barbarically. So you must be talking of someone else. Poetry is lame! "
"Have you ever even read poetry?"
"Of course I have!"
"Really, who?"
"Jonathan Bartlett. McKenzie Orally."
"Ugh. That so doesn't count."
"And why's that?"
"First, their modern poets, and two, their wizards."
"What does either of that have to do with anything?"
"Well, not the first one as much, but wizards don't write poetry."
"They don't?" sarcasm dripped from his tone
"No, they don't"
"Ummhmm….."
"They out an illusion charm on the title. That's it. Practical magic. Not poetry."
"And what exactly is poetry then?" Lily wanted to smack him; instead, she picked up her poetry book, plopped down onto the couch next to him and reopened the page.
"Close your eyes."
"What?"
"Close. Your. Eyes."
"Why would I close my eyes?"
"It helps clear your mind. Just do it Potter."
"How do I know you won't hex me the second I do?"
Lily glared at him
He closed his eyes
Fire and Ice.
Robert Frost
Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Lily's voice bulleted the corners of the room, tendrils of words poured from her lips and painted pictures in James' mind. His breath slowed, his heart calmed, and his mind slowly started racing to analyze.
"Wow." The sound came from underneath his still closed eyelids.
"THAT is poetry." She tried to keep the smug ring out of her voice
"THAT was amazing."
He kept his eyes closed, she didn't say anything. She gently turned the page of her book. After several moments of peregrinated silence she spoke again.
"Your favorite color is blue, correct?"
"His lips twitched. "Yeah. Why?"
Fragmented blue
Robert Frost
Why make so much of fragmentary blue Since earth is earth, perhaps, not heaven (as yet)-
in here and there a bird, or butterfly,
or flower, or wearing-stone, or open eye,
when heaven presents in sheets the solid hue?
Though some savants make earth include the sky;
And blue so far above us comes so high,
It only gives our wish for blue a whet.
James face sculpted into a smile. "I like that one. The first one, Fire and Ice was amazing two, but it obviously has an underlying meaning I can't entirely pick up…."
"Yeah I know I love it!" came her reply, James opened his eyes and looked at her, amused. "The last time I went to a poetry circle over the summer." She quickly explained. "We went over this. Basically, fire stands for passion, desire. How the earth might end with others killing each other or ruining the world through what they want or feel. The Ice is meant to stand for hatred. Icing each other out until wars start, until everyone is completely abandoned and hated, just like their neighbor. There's a lot more to it than that. But that's the gust and it proubrally makes more since now right?"
"Yeah, "he looked startled "a lot more actually, can I read it again?" She nodded and handed him the book.
"Sorry I called him and poetry lame. "
"I'll attempt to forgive you."
"Hmm, thanks. That's the best I'm going to get isn't it?"
"Basically"
"Good to know."
James bent over and read more of the poem, before turning the book to a random poem and reading that one as well.
"I like this one. It has meaning."
"Which?"
"Um, well, here Ill read it
The Road not Taken
Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, Then took the other, as just as fair, And both that morning equally lay I shall be telling this with a sigh
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."
Before he was even done, Lily was nodding. "yeah, that's one of my favorite to. I read it often. That's one of the things I love about this guy. You can read his writing over and over and it doesn't ever really get old."
"Not really." He said, still preoccupied with the poetry book. His eyebrows were pinched together, his lips perched and his eyes had stopped reading."
"What?" She asked. It took him a moment to answer
"When I read it, it doesn't sound the same way as when you read it."
"oh, well. I guess you just need more merit."
"Merit?"
"Pauses. Punctuation. Projection of voice. Actually caring about what you're reading."
"I do care."
"Show it." He looked at her. She took the book. Flipping through it, she stopped at the page she wanted.
Nothing Gold Can Stay
Robert Frost
"Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
See?"
His eyes were closed again, mutedly, James nodded.
"OH I could listen to you read forever." He breathed as if he wouldn't mind her not hearing. Lily smiled, unusually fluster by the compliment. She smiled, and looked up another poem.
So? Did you like it? I really hope you did and if so please please PLEASE review! Reviews make me happy, and when I'm happy I write more. So please?
Also, if you would tell me some poets you know that I can do, I would absolutely LOVE it.
Thanks!
LIZIES