Title: The Games We Used To Play (Ron/Ginny Poetry)
Authors: Altricial and Aspen (pepperimp@playtime.org)
Pairing: Ron/Ginny
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: incesty overtones, interesting rhyme schemes and lack thereof
Notes: This is the complete set of R/G-themed poems we batted back and forth for a few days on LiveJournal. We referred to it as our "ping pong poetry" - Aspen started it with just a little poem, and Altricial wrote one back, and we found it to be addicting and couldn't stop trading poems back and forth. Altricial brings in the major Ron dynamic, and Aspen brings in the Ginny dynamic, so that's how you can tell who wrote what. :D
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns 'em; we just own their leashes. And the poetry.
I.
R. -
I cannot help but feel dislocated at the way
You ruffle fingers through my hair in the pretense of play
In that touch of longing or of unspoken emotion
Mine is not the only heartbeat disrupted at the motion.
xo,
G.
II.
She is my baby sister, but a baby she no longer is
She used to cling to my legs, she used to bounce on my knees
But sometimes, I still ruffle her hair
And sometimes, I am just not willing to share
Ginny, you know it doesn't have to be wrong
To tuck you into bed with a kiss good night once more.
Ron.
III.
One time we were married
Under the weeping willow in the woods.
We played House
Like children do
And kissed good morning,
And kissed good evening,
And kissed good night,
Until we could not stop,
And it wasn't a game anymore
And we didn't know why
Mum and Dad laughed and said,
"You cannot marry your sister!"
Because we knew
That it was possible.
IV.
Another time, I fell
And there she was, little white dress and little white socks
"Take two and see me in the morning" she said
Two Chocolate Frogs in my hand, the pain went away
"Doctor and Nurse", a game we used to play
I told them about it once, the older boys I knew
But they laughed and pointed and called us names
So I never told anyone again, the games we used to play
What brothers and sisters can or cannot do, who are they to say?
Ron.
V.
One time he took me
In the boys-only fort,
Where plans were hatched
(Like baby dragons)
And secrets were passed around
(Like Chocolate Frog cards)
And girls
(Like me)
Were not allowed,
Ever. He
Showed me wonders and
Swore me to secrecy and
Said I could come back,
If I was a good girl.
So I was very, very good
And come autumn, when we were alone,
We had tea parties and did other
Grown-up things
In the boys-only fort.
VI.
Oh, and remember that time?
When we laughed until we cried?
On your stuffed-toys-infested bed,
How dare you call me a Cootie Carrot Head!
So I pinned you down on your back
And tickled till you couldn't breathe
Breathe, Ginny, breathe
Sweaty lips, sweaty palms;
A shower, that's what we need!
She used to be my partner-in-tub and that was how we knew
That she's a girl and I'm a boy but we used the same shampoo
Then came the day, when Mummy said,
"You're all grown up now, separate baths and beds!"
But no one told us why and no one has to know
So until then, our water fights goes on!
In fact, we just had one yesterday.
VII.
Then there was that day
You were sick in your bed with the flu
I was downstairs
And I missed you
So I padded to the kitchen while
Percy wasn't looking
With Dad's spare wand
And cracked eggs
And pulled apart bacon
And burnt a whole loaf of bread
So I could play Mum
And bring you breakfast in bed
I squeezed oranges but
Only a little juice came out
And I think there were bits of shell
In your eggs that were sunny-side up.
But your throat was swollen
Too shut to eat
So I just climbed into your bed
And laid down at your feet.
VIII.
She loves to read and she loves to write
Stories after stories, she reads and writes
Of red haired princesses and red haired knights
Happy ever afters, she reads and writes.
She keeps a yellow diary with a ribbon as a lock
I found it under her pillow one day
And opened it without a knock
Forgive me, Ginny, I really have to know what it says.
Mummy tells us bedtime stories at night
And into her diary, these stories she writes
She read them out to me, wearing our matching jammies
So I pretended not to know about her pages of Rons and Ginnys.
Her favourite tale is that one of The Boy Who Lived
I'm sure you've heard of him, a midget named Harry
A hero with a scar. A hero, so what?
A hero doesn't know her quite as well as Sir Knight Weasley!
I have a favourite story, too
A happy ever after just for me
And it goes something like this,
Ron and Ginny, up in a tree...
IX.
Hide-and-seek was never so fun
As when they played it in the dark of
Star-studded night.
Together down the stairs they'd sneak
And out the door to the pond.
"Count to twenty," he would say.
"No peeking!" he would say.
So she would sit dangling her feet in the pond
Counting to twenty
And peeking between two fingers
So she would always be able to find him.
"Ready or not!" she would say.
"I wonder where you are," she would say.
Up in trees,
In the shed,
Beneath the dock,
In the shadows,
Behind bushes,
"I found you!" she would say.
She would always be able to find him.
"I thought I said no peeking," he would say.
"You found me awf'lly quick," he would say.
"Do you want to hide now?" he would say.
She always hid in the same three places
So the game was always easy
And deep down he was glad
He would always be able to find her.
X.
I can still remember the first word she said
Not "Mama", not "Papa" and certainly not "Fred"
She might have said it softly
She might have said it quick
But all you need was simple logic
To know the first word from Ginny Weasley.
I can still remember the first word she said
Not "Bill", not "Charles", I'll just let you guess instead
Yes, it rhymes with "popcorn"
Yes, it rhymes with "bon bon"
Time's up, you big stupid egg!
Yes, "Ron" was the very first word she said.
I can still remember the first word she said
Not "George", not "Percy", oh definitely not that bighead!
"Ron," she said, she said my name
"Ron," she said, she said it again
"Ron," she wrote with crayons one day
But that will be another story for another rainy day.
I can still remember the first time I said her name
I was one year old when she came home that Wednesday
"Say hello to Ginny," Mummy said
"Hullo Ginny, you're my sister," I said
I spent the day calling out her name
Because I knew Ginny will grow up to be mine some day.
XI.
It has been a happy summer,
Sipping pumpkin juice in the backyard and
Learning how to play Quidditch
With you
Sitting behind me on your
Shooting Star
With your hands
Wrapped around mine
So I don't forget to hang on tight
We go to Diagon Alley tomorrow
To see Harry and to get school supplies
And I will get new used robes,
Because I have grown a bit this year,
And you will wear more of Bill's old robes,
Because you are getting quite tall
And grown-up-looking
Harry will look quite the midget
Compared to you
I don't really want to go, Ron
We haven't played enough backyard broom games
For summer to be over
I don't want to see Hermione, Ron
She smiles at you in a way that makes me
Want to break her teeth
I don't want your hands off mine, Ron
If you don't hold onto me, I'll fall
Your hands have gotten strong.
- Fin
Authors: Altricial and Aspen (pepperimp@playtime.org)
Pairing: Ron/Ginny
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: incesty overtones, interesting rhyme schemes and lack thereof
Notes: This is the complete set of R/G-themed poems we batted back and forth for a few days on LiveJournal. We referred to it as our "ping pong poetry" - Aspen started it with just a little poem, and Altricial wrote one back, and we found it to be addicting and couldn't stop trading poems back and forth. Altricial brings in the major Ron dynamic, and Aspen brings in the Ginny dynamic, so that's how you can tell who wrote what. :D
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns 'em; we just own their leashes. And the poetry.
I.
R. -
I cannot help but feel dislocated at the way
You ruffle fingers through my hair in the pretense of play
In that touch of longing or of unspoken emotion
Mine is not the only heartbeat disrupted at the motion.
xo,
G.
II.
She is my baby sister, but a baby she no longer is
She used to cling to my legs, she used to bounce on my knees
But sometimes, I still ruffle her hair
And sometimes, I am just not willing to share
Ginny, you know it doesn't have to be wrong
To tuck you into bed with a kiss good night once more.
Ron.
III.
One time we were married
Under the weeping willow in the woods.
We played House
Like children do
And kissed good morning,
And kissed good evening,
And kissed good night,
Until we could not stop,
And it wasn't a game anymore
And we didn't know why
Mum and Dad laughed and said,
"You cannot marry your sister!"
Because we knew
That it was possible.
IV.
Another time, I fell
And there she was, little white dress and little white socks
"Take two and see me in the morning" she said
Two Chocolate Frogs in my hand, the pain went away
"Doctor and Nurse", a game we used to play
I told them about it once, the older boys I knew
But they laughed and pointed and called us names
So I never told anyone again, the games we used to play
What brothers and sisters can or cannot do, who are they to say?
Ron.
V.
One time he took me
In the boys-only fort,
Where plans were hatched
(Like baby dragons)
And secrets were passed around
(Like Chocolate Frog cards)
And girls
(Like me)
Were not allowed,
Ever. He
Showed me wonders and
Swore me to secrecy and
Said I could come back,
If I was a good girl.
So I was very, very good
And come autumn, when we were alone,
We had tea parties and did other
Grown-up things
In the boys-only fort.
VI.
Oh, and remember that time?
When we laughed until we cried?
On your stuffed-toys-infested bed,
How dare you call me a Cootie Carrot Head!
So I pinned you down on your back
And tickled till you couldn't breathe
Breathe, Ginny, breathe
Sweaty lips, sweaty palms;
A shower, that's what we need!
She used to be my partner-in-tub and that was how we knew
That she's a girl and I'm a boy but we used the same shampoo
Then came the day, when Mummy said,
"You're all grown up now, separate baths and beds!"
But no one told us why and no one has to know
So until then, our water fights goes on!
In fact, we just had one yesterday.
VII.
Then there was that day
You were sick in your bed with the flu
I was downstairs
And I missed you
So I padded to the kitchen while
Percy wasn't looking
With Dad's spare wand
And cracked eggs
And pulled apart bacon
And burnt a whole loaf of bread
So I could play Mum
And bring you breakfast in bed
I squeezed oranges but
Only a little juice came out
And I think there were bits of shell
In your eggs that were sunny-side up.
But your throat was swollen
Too shut to eat
So I just climbed into your bed
And laid down at your feet.
VIII.
She loves to read and she loves to write
Stories after stories, she reads and writes
Of red haired princesses and red haired knights
Happy ever afters, she reads and writes.
She keeps a yellow diary with a ribbon as a lock
I found it under her pillow one day
And opened it without a knock
Forgive me, Ginny, I really have to know what it says.
Mummy tells us bedtime stories at night
And into her diary, these stories she writes
She read them out to me, wearing our matching jammies
So I pretended not to know about her pages of Rons and Ginnys.
Her favourite tale is that one of The Boy Who Lived
I'm sure you've heard of him, a midget named Harry
A hero with a scar. A hero, so what?
A hero doesn't know her quite as well as Sir Knight Weasley!
I have a favourite story, too
A happy ever after just for me
And it goes something like this,
Ron and Ginny, up in a tree...
IX.
Hide-and-seek was never so fun
As when they played it in the dark of
Star-studded night.
Together down the stairs they'd sneak
And out the door to the pond.
"Count to twenty," he would say.
"No peeking!" he would say.
So she would sit dangling her feet in the pond
Counting to twenty
And peeking between two fingers
So she would always be able to find him.
"Ready or not!" she would say.
"I wonder where you are," she would say.
Up in trees,
In the shed,
Beneath the dock,
In the shadows,
Behind bushes,
"I found you!" she would say.
She would always be able to find him.
"I thought I said no peeking," he would say.
"You found me awf'lly quick," he would say.
"Do you want to hide now?" he would say.
She always hid in the same three places
So the game was always easy
And deep down he was glad
He would always be able to find her.
X.
I can still remember the first word she said
Not "Mama", not "Papa" and certainly not "Fred"
She might have said it softly
She might have said it quick
But all you need was simple logic
To know the first word from Ginny Weasley.
I can still remember the first word she said
Not "Bill", not "Charles", I'll just let you guess instead
Yes, it rhymes with "popcorn"
Yes, it rhymes with "bon bon"
Time's up, you big stupid egg!
Yes, "Ron" was the very first word she said.
I can still remember the first word she said
Not "George", not "Percy", oh definitely not that bighead!
"Ron," she said, she said my name
"Ron," she said, she said it again
"Ron," she wrote with crayons one day
But that will be another story for another rainy day.
I can still remember the first time I said her name
I was one year old when she came home that Wednesday
"Say hello to Ginny," Mummy said
"Hullo Ginny, you're my sister," I said
I spent the day calling out her name
Because I knew Ginny will grow up to be mine some day.
XI.
It has been a happy summer,
Sipping pumpkin juice in the backyard and
Learning how to play Quidditch
With you
Sitting behind me on your
Shooting Star
With your hands
Wrapped around mine
So I don't forget to hang on tight
We go to Diagon Alley tomorrow
To see Harry and to get school supplies
And I will get new used robes,
Because I have grown a bit this year,
And you will wear more of Bill's old robes,
Because you are getting quite tall
And grown-up-looking
Harry will look quite the midget
Compared to you
I don't really want to go, Ron
We haven't played enough backyard broom games
For summer to be over
I don't want to see Hermione, Ron
She smiles at you in a way that makes me
Want to break her teeth
I don't want your hands off mine, Ron
If you don't hold onto me, I'll fall
Your hands have gotten strong.
- Fin
