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Little Belle
her home was nowhere
to be seen that was
hidden deep within
a dense forest
one she had never dared enter
not even to hunt for flowers she knew bloomed
within its dark unknown world.
There were many a things, Belle knew not off
and nor did she cared, or rather dared
to frolic in search off
and there was definitely one thing
she was sure never to know of
the house held no mirrors she could peer into.
Belle knew not of her beauty
disguised without knowing
beneath old faded rags
and the soil from the land
after long days of toil.

All little Belle knew was
she had a duty
to keep the house clean and the grounds blooming,
spotless and tidy
and she were never to wander off
she was the ward of the hamlet
and must always be there
incase t’was the day the master and mistress may come.
And so the days and weeks and years had gone
with little Belle imprisoned without realizing
that it had been years she hadn’t even spoken to
or seen another soul
Belle wasn’t a little girl any more.

And slowly day by day
Belle’s smiles lessened
her once cheerful songs
that made the meadow dance waned
and one day she sang
staring upon the dancing reflection on the lake
silver tears running down rosy cheeks
a song of her woos and loneliness
a song that made the trees tremble
and all life around her shed a tear.

…and somewhere far away
beyond the wall of trees
a figure upon horseback halted suddenly
something was eerie
the wordless voice brought tears to his eyes
and he turned
upon the dense forestry
he had ridden past many a times.