Стихи и проза, творчество форумчан, Але! Мы ищем таланты Опции

[Вульпи]

Мне кажется, что среди нас куча одаренных и неординарных личностей. Так давай те же не будем зарывать свой талант в песок, а выставим его на всеобщее обозрение и восхищение!

[Corso]

Я тут поплагиатила немного, но на сайте фанфикшена (да не будет это рекламой) мне дали, так сказать... э... разрешение что ли... Это я под впечатлением "Finding Neverland" намалякала. Немного сентиментально, но все-таки... можно критиковать тоже

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Neverland had changed since all the boys, Wendy and her brothers left… It was still beautiful, magical… with hundreds of thousands miraculous animals, birds… crocodiles, but for Peter Pan, the boy who refused to grow up, the island’s colors had faded… now that he was alone.

He now lived in Wendy’s small house that he and the boys had built for her. The birds rose it high and placed on the top of a huge tree, among their own nests and little white and pink fairies.

Often Peter woke up in the mornings because of the little creatures shouting… but he was even more wounded when he realized that it wasn’t Wendy, patting him by the shoulder, or the boys, eager to go to the beach, or even Captain Hook, ready to strike him with his iron hook. Peter missed now even that bloody pirate…

The sun was almost down, its golden arrows of light hardly touching Peter’s cheek… In several hours it would be already a week since the night Wendy, her brothers and the rest of the boys returned to the real world, where time was almighty and where nothing could stop it…

He felt betrayed… He never thought he’d be bored living like that, but… was he?………

‘Peter!’

Pan stood up on his feet and stared at the sky, his little fairy was pointing with her tiny finger at a black spot on the bloody horizon.

‘New children!’ the boy heard her melodious laugh.

………no, of course, he wasn’t! He’d already forgot about his loss…. The way he always did. He was gay and happy again – because it was Neverland and because he was the boy who refused to grow up!

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А это уже ни к чему не относится...

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TIME

It’s weak and strong;
It’s slow and quick;
It turns things into dust.
It’s cold and warm;
It’s short and long,
It makes us feel the lust…
The lust for life and bliss, and song,
Desire to be free…
From time and years, birth and death.
But there’s no chance… Pity!

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