Poetry by K.C. Hingley

Added 29 December 1999

This is a section where I post poems sent to me by people who have found my site and wish to display their own works. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!

This poem is by K.C. Hingley

The Apple and the Labyrinth Lady (sellout)

Let me caress your mind
And wander while you weep
This story isn't true
But it may as well be

The labyrinth lady stood 5'10"
She had a red dress and a Mercedes Benz
"Let's Ride" she said and she started to move
Her prison eyes were frosty blue

Then I felt a change inside
Felt so good I tried to hide
I was sorry to see the weight go
But still I shook from head to toe
"Let's go"

I led her to her car
And somehow knew where it was
She held a crimson apple
And looked on it with lust

We drove for hours alone
We ended up in parts unknown
The fairy tale land was tinged with red
The sun shone down and warmed and fed

We walked to a glistening patch of bare earth
Her eyes lit up and betrayed her mirth
The red apple shone in her hand, with the light
Opened her mouth and a delicate bite

A rush of pain came over me
My stomach churned, my knees were weak
"It's YOU who made me feel this way!
Evil Woman, soon you'll pay!"

But, could I sense a touch of fear?
Did I see her cry a tear?
She threw the apple in the ground
Covered it with dirt, and sat down

All night we sat and talked and thought
This girl I hated, and I in knots
We sat up until late at night
Then slept in each others loving light

Loneliness came with morning dawn
Her car and her scent were gone.
I saw the bloom right next to me
Where bare had been, there now was tree.

Fully bloomed and pulsing light
Grown tall in a single night
I picked an apple and held it fast
I knew this one would have to last

For as the sun began it's climb
The glistening branch began to shine
It caught like twigs in a desert bed
The fire awoke, in crimson red

Since then the light has never died
It's burning still, deep down inside
So now any other who dares come close
Will have to brave a fiery approach

But if they find their way through the flames
Will they find but ashen remains?
Or that the fire was but a clever shield
That needs only a word before it yields?

The answer lies in another tale
That may never be told at all
But the story of the apple and the labyrinth lady
Is the saddest of them all.

BIO: My name is K.C. Hingley. I hail from Sidney, British Columbia (Canada) and I am 19 years old. I am sending these poems because I like this site, and I would like a chance to get some genuine criticism. Feel free to e-mail me at rickrite@hotmail.com with comments.