Inspired by Mal's attempted creativity in Still Flying. No spoilers, I promise. This is a bribe for 2x2 (and AR? *hopeful*).
Also, you might perhaps see why I don't attempt poetry more than once a year.
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High upon the Winter's crown
that iv'ry spire on the hill
the snow queen in her courtyard
amid a world in shards
smiled a secret heartsick frown
and felt the icy chill
Her dresses thickly woolen spun
fur-lined, pure, austere
diamonds dancing in her eyes
and in her midnight hair
The sun had failed to rise
she could find no true way
spring and summer unsprung
alone there was no day
and not courtly play-act graces
nor the finest pretty laces
could melt the spell undone
Through a crystal woods
across the glacial moraine
by north wind an answer came
by snowy mare a thief to caper
(and he might say very dapper)
a regular Robin Hood
From earthly fire browned
tempered steel, grit and muster
known by gunsmoke and a duster
set to wander, not knowing why
underneath a starry sky
that sparkled on the ground
But the world was bitter cold
and beauty often lies
and uncaring sons-of-bitches
kept putting holes in his hide
Though spite had made him bold
and survival was his measure
he was as though bewitch'd
to see the gardens' treasure
She surprised to see him,
him for once understood
this man blown by the wind
the lonely roads they'd taken
crossed paths as well they should
The land finally awakened
and away they went together
left behind their heavy burdens
over an ocean to fair weather
to a place blossoming and verdant
Overcome by awe
two hearts entwined, pleading
the world began to thaw
pressed together needing
her with sweetest kissing
him sliding up her dress
She found what she'd been missing
he hadn't been looking but found more
The pauper and the princess-
"Wa-ash!" Kaylee mewled. She was stomping up the corridor, some adorable combination of distressed, hurt, and annoyed, like when someone made a disparaging comment about layer cakes. "Stop makin' stories about me an' Simon! It ain't funny!"
The pilot chair squeaked a little as the blond man spun around, all innocent confusion. "All right then. I always do try at least to be funny." He paused. "What stories?"
Mal listened to the commotion above, trying his damndest not to laugh, and put the finishing line down. Now he just had to leave this in a certain shuttle, and watch hilarity ensue.
-The smuggler and the whore