Moments - poetry
The twins read poetry to their parents
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The den wasn't overly large nor was it small, but comfortable enough to fit all of Chase's warriors and plush furnishings. Making the marble interior warm and cozy with its rich fabrics and dim lightening.
Jack sighed as he settled into his favored Loveseat with a steaming mug of hot chocolate and his chilled toes beneath a soft-warm tiger. While Chase reclined in his Chaise Lounge as regale a king, an Asian Golden Cat lay boneless across her master's lap as he sipped his oolong tea with one hand and stroked her golden-brown fur with the other. All waited for the show to begin.
In a flourish of hyper-energy a dark haired three year old bounded to one side of the room to other side until he finally skidded to a stop. Jack nearly shot his drink out of his nose with laugher when he saw what Jaxith was wearing. The boy wore nothing but a black cape, little Gir boxer-shorts, green rain boots and an old pair of Jack's goggles on his head. Chase merely arched a brow at his son's attire while using his tea cup to hide the slight smile brought on by the child's antics.
Jaxith dramatically cleared his throat and puffed out his small chest as he held up a piece of crumpled paper.
"The poem is called. My Kitten Won't Stop Talking. By Kenn Nesbitt." The boy cleared his throat again and shook the paper out. "My kitten won't stop talking. She just prattles night and day. She walks around repeating nearly everything I say. My kitten never says, "Meow." She never even purrs. She mimics me instead in that annoying voice of hers. She waits for me to speak, and then she copies every word, or begs me for a cracker, or says, "I'm a pretty bird." I'm not sure what to do, and so I simply grin and bear it. She's been this way since yesterday; that's when she ate my parrot."
Jack clapped happily, "bravo, sweetie, bravo."
Jaxith quickly bowed when he was done causing his cape to fly up over his head. "Thank you, thank you." he said nearly tripping over a lion in his blind state.
Jia-Li came next his approach graceful and fluent like flower petals drifting in the breeze. The pale hired three year old wore a deep wine colored cheongsam with a thin silver hems, green, purple, and yellowish-gold butterflies fluttered along the silk and black silk pants.
"The poem is called. Alone. By Edger Allen Poe." As he neatly unfolded the paper. The ivory child spoke the words softly. "From childhood's hour I have not been as others were; I have not seen as others saw; I could not bring my passions from a common spring. From the same source I have not taken my sorrow; I could not awaken my heart to joy at the same tone; and all I loved, I loved alone. Then- in my childhood, in the dawn of a most stormy life- was drawn from every depth of good and ill the mystery which binds me still: from the torrent, or the fountain, from the red cliff of the mountain, from the sun that round me rolled in its autumn tint of gold, from the lightning in the sky as it passed me flying by, from the thunder and the storm, and the cloud that took the form (when the rest of Heaven was blue) of a demon in my view."
Jia-Li bowed deeply, while Jack wept silent tears his trembling hands reaching out for his baby. Jia-Li stepped into his father's embrace and inwardly sighed in treasured bliss. 'How long will this' though Jia-Li another year or so maybe five…his visions always gave him a different outcome, but in the end there was always death. As much as he beg the fates nothing will change, his happiness will never last long…a dragon born with the sight is a cursed dragon.
Chase watched them from his perch with the ach of knowing that he was unable to ease his child's burden of his gift.