The Princess and the Pea

It’s not so much that my bed was uncomfortable—

more that I was overtired from the storm and lonely

in this strange house, not to mention I was afraid

I might fall off the tower of mattresses under me.  

And as I lay awake I heard through the walls the queen

and king arguing—something about what vegetable

to serve at dinner.  When I finally fell asleep,

everything was in green.  Sets of round green eyes

staring at me, a string of emeralds circling the queen’s

thin neck. Even the drops of water from the faucet dripped

the color of grass into the large orbed pool of the sink.

Copyright © 2015 Gabriella M. Belfiglio.

Gabriella M. Belfiglio retains all rights to this work, granting Fickle Muses one-time, non-exclusive electronic publication rights. Please contact the creator to request permission for reprints or other uses of this work.


Previously published in: Pinyon Review, Issue #6, Fall 2014

Poetry,