Fairypoems. (fairytale + poems)

Starry Night.

How many of you know that starry night painting by Van Gogh? It's not the swirly one, with the whoozy feeling. There's another painting, with a town and lights. Anyway, this is based on that painting. I was at the museum today, and I saw the actual painting! It was a wonderful experience, and I just had to write about it.  Paintings do have stories too, you know? Xin Tian, this is for you, because you were with me and you seemed just as enchanted as I was:P 

 STARRY NIGHT: 

  The sky was almost black, with silver shreds of the clouds drifting over occasionally, leaving behind streaks of light blue, creating patterns haphazardly and randomly; the mixing of paint with a white brush. 

  The river was calmer than usual, it's black waters lapping at the mud at the edge of the field. Was it truly black, or does it simply reflect the sky? It was probably a reflection. The lamps in the town are also shimmering in its watery depths, like beacons for the fishes underwater. I wonder how it might look from the bottom: giant stars dancing across the surface? 

  If the light from the lamps were giant stars, what were the stars in the sky? The babies, then. They were the children of the giant stars. I could never tell the constellations, but I could see the Big Dipper. It looked like the spoon Mama used when she was scooping porridge for me. 

  There was a boat at the edge of the lakel; weathered, browning, with the lacy threads of cobwebs hanging on it. They say it had been abandoned, but I disagree. I think the cobwebs are a guise, to give the impression of abandonment, while the ship is secretly stocked by two lovers. They want to run away from their domineering families, and so, they have started to sneak away at midnight. 

  When they were done stocking their ship each night, they would take a stroll up the tiny hill and sit there, gazing at the stars, their fingers interlocked, her head on his chest, lying on the damp grass, feeling the dew travel up his tunic. 

  Then, when the sun starts to claw its way up the horizon with it's golden fingers, they kiss, and separate, hurrying home to get more supplies for the next time they would meet. 

  Maybe the girl loved another boy before.  She loved him with all her heart, but he was in love with someone else. It hurt, to watch him cry over another girl at night while she could do nothing to make him smile. It hurt, when he told her about the girl he was so infatuated with. 

  Maybe the girl couldn't take anymore, one day, so she went off crying. She met the boy, and she realized that the only way she was ever going to be happy was to leave. 

  The stars shone brighter in the sky was the moon disappeared behind another whisp of cloud. I stood up, smoothened out my skirt, and took one last deep breath of the night air here. 

  Maybe it was unfair of the girl to use another boy to get over her sadness. She would rather the pain stop, for her, and for everybody else. Maybe she wouldn't leave his town after all. 

  I walked down the hill, into the lake. 

  One more breath, I told myself, and then, I sank underwater. 

  I could the giant stars and their children at the surface. It was quiet. 

 The stars were getting smaller. 

  Smaller. 

  I can't see anything. 

  No more stars.