.
VR
Schnickerfritzchen's Journal


Schnickerfritzchen's Journal

THIS JOURNAL IS ON 43 FAVORITE JOURNAL LISTS

Honor: 0    [ Give / Take ]

PROFILE




1 entry this month

 

The Passionate Shepherd to His Love - My Version

01:06 May 02 2014
Times Read: 364


If anyone has read the poem The Passionate Shepherd to His Love by Christopher Marlowe, then some lines in this story may seem familiar to you. For a creative writing class we had to take a literary work and rewrite into something else. I chose to write the poem into a story... I'm still working on it every now and then to try to make a complete short story out of it.I figured I'd go ahead and share what I have so far...



The shepherd watches over his flock of sheep, eyes scanning over the entire field to ensure each creature is accounted for. His legs are outstretched in front of him, feet crossed at the ankles. A slight breeze whispers by, caressing his hair and causing

a chestnut curl to tickle his skin. He sighs, leaning back into the plush grass, placing his arms under his head. His charcoal gray eyes stare into the sky, watching the clouds lazily float by. A sweet voice dances his way into his ears causing him to sit up.



“What is that sweet melody that has made its way to my ears?”



The shepherd stands up, scanning the area. His eyes land on a shape in the distance, slowly making its way to his flock. He slowly walks down the grassy hill, approaching the figure.



“Do my eyes deceive me or am I seeing an angel?” the shepherd whispers in



A woman stands in front of him, singing with the most beautiful voice he’s ever heard. Her long ebony hair dances with the wind and the gentle ruffles of her dress swing around her legs. Her eyes sparkle in the sunlight and a small smile plays against her singing lips.



The shepherd watches her, barely breathing and heart beating furiously within his chest. He opens his mouth to speak, but the words fail to appear. He tries again, willing the words to flow out.



“Come live with me and by my love.”



She glances up at him, a twinkle in her cornflower blue eyes. She ceases singing, the smile still on her face. Her hands grace the backs of a few sheep grazing by their feet.



“And we will all the pleasures prove that valleys, groves, hills, and fields, woods, or steepy mountain yields.” The shepherd takes a step towards her, his hand slightly outstretched.



She walks away slowly, the smile still curving her rosy lips. The shepherd watches her, eyes wide and heart still pounding rapidly.



“And we will sit upon the rocks, seeing the shepherds feed their flocks. By shallow rivers, to whose falls melodious birds sing madrigals.”



He takes a few steps after her, watching her hair dance behind her back. Everything around him disappears, the sheep, the hills, and the clouds. He watches her stroke the sheep, the smile never leaving her face. She keeps walking through the

sheep and across the field, getting closer and closer to the edge of the forest. His eyes

never leave her, his steps never falter.



She glances back at him, a pale hand resting against the tree in front of her. “Is that truly what I want?”



He closes the few feet between them, placing his hand next to hers. He stares into her eyes, a smile forming on his mouth. Her smile grows in response, a mischievous glint in her eyes.



“Come with me. And I will make thee beds of roses and a thousand fragrant posies. A cap of flowers, and a kirtle embroidered all with leaves of myrtle.”



Her eyes flicker to the ground, a strand of ebony hair twirling across her face.



“A gown made of the finest wool which from our pretty lambs we pull; Fair lined slippers for the cold, with buckles of the purest gold.”



A small giggle escapes from behind her lips. “What if I already have enough gowns? What shall thee give to me then?”



The shepherd grins, his white teeth glistening underneath the sun. “A belt of straw and ivy buds, with coral clasps and amber studs: And if these pleasures may thee move, come live with me, and be my love,” taking a step closer to her, he continues to speak, “The shepherds' swains shall dance and sing for thy delight each May morning: If these delights thy mind may move, then live with me and be my love.” His fingers

move slowly closer to her, fingertips barely brushing against her skin.



She pulls her hand back, turning away from him. “Prove your love to me. Catch me if you can.” She turns around and dashes into the forest, her ebony waves streaming behind her.



The smile never leaves her face.



~~~~~



The rustling of the leaves fill the air around him as the shepherd weaves his way through the trees scattered throughout the forest. The sound of laughter echoes in front of him, indicating that the woman is nearby. His heart races, the sound of his heavy breathing filling his ears. He darts past a tree and finds himself in a clearing. Vibrant green grass with flowers of every color of the rainbow lies in front of him, butterflies and birds flying back and forth. He glances around, his eyes searching for the beautiful creature he’s been chasing.



“Where art thou, my love? Have the heavens taken back their angel?”



He walks into the field, eyes still roaming.



“Thy kind words cause butterflies to dance within me, kind sir. I, though, am no angel.” A giggle follows the words.



He grins, his charcoal eyes lighting up. “Show yourself, my sweet.”



The sound of a branch snapping can be heard. His eyes turn in the direction of that sound and he discovers the woman peeking out from behind a tree. Her rosy lips grin back at him and her eyes stare into his. The slight breeze slithers its way through her hair, causing the strands to sway gently behind her back.



“Thy beauty stops my breath and makes my heart flutter like the wings of a hummingbird.”



The shepherd crosses the field slowly, his eyes never leaving hers. A slight blush creeps onto his cheeks, the warmth of it heating up his face. He closes the distance between them, standing right before the woman. He raises a hand slowly, bringing it up to her porcelain skin. Before his hand reaches her cheek, the woman laughs and spins

around, resuming her race through the forest.


COMMENTS

-






COMPANY
REQUEST HELP
CONTACT US
SITEMAP
REPORT A BUG
UPDATES
LEGAL
TERMS OF SERVICE
PRIVACY POLICY
DMCA POLICY
REAL VAMPIRES LOVE VAMPIRE RAVE
© 2004 - 2024 Vampire Rave
All Rights Reserved.
Vampire Rave is a member of 
Page generated in 0.0417 seconds.
X
Username:

Password:
I agree to Vampire Rave's Privacy Policy.
I agree to Vampire Rave's Terms of Service.
I agree to Vampire Rave's DMCA Policy.
I agree to Vampire Rave's use of Cookies.
•  SIGN UP •  GET PASSWORD •  GET USERNAME  •
X