This year was the first time in 666 years that Gandalf’s birthday fell on Friday the 13th. At bedtime on the 12th He was a little worried about that, but only a little. Not too much. He believed the worst that might happen was that Elvira might drop something in his lap. Something that might hurt but, if it was Elvira, he would find a way to forgive her. She was his soul mate and vice president of the Black Hole Wizards, the so-called “Club” that they had co-founded, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth.
Merlon was still a member, although he was not very active these days. The Sorcerer’s Apprentice came to meetings, in the guise of Mickey the Mouse, more often Merlon did. A few hundred years ago Merlon had met an Enchantress, a VooDoo Princess, if you will, from some island the Bermuda Triangle. She had captured his attention and they hadn’t seen much of him for a while.
When the sun rose on the 13th
Gandalf woke feeling rested
he woke feeling inspired
he woke with a song in his heart and a smattering of free verse on his mind
he woke feeling inspired and poetic
he wanted to pen something inspirational for his birthday…
Grabbing a papyrus roll and a stylus he dipped his pen into a pot of red ink
Without hesitation he scrawled, “A poet will die for a rose,” on the paper.
He sat back on his chair and studied his thought, written thereon.
The prompts were:
- old and happy
- black hole wizards
- a poet will die for a rose
- the soft menacing sound of…
tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice 