Post by Lamenting Quill on Oct 24, 2006 20:56:16 GMT -5
Disclaimer: Not mine, J.K. Rowling's, I just borrowed them.
Note: I wrote this as a letter Minerva finds from Albus after his death - BUT I did not write Minerva's reaction! I would like to CHALLENGE all of you to write her reaction to the letter
Let me know what you come up with, and I hope you enjoy this little letter!
My Dearest Minerva,
If your sparkling eyes are upon these words, then I have departed from this world of fools. I am embarking on the greatest journey man has pondered since the beginning of time; the journey of death. I may not have had the chance to tell you goodbye, but if I possessed one breath to utter one word, I hope it was your ears that heard.
Oh, my sweet Minerva. My hand will now tell you what my lips could not, for never did I reveal to you what I so longed to everyday. You have been many things to me throughout the years: first my student, then my colleague and friend, my successor, my sanity to say the least. You were my constant, the one thing in my life that was unchanging. When everyone else turned their faces from me over things they did not understand, even though you did not understand either, you looked at me with loyal eyes, and spoke to others with loyal lips. You were everything to me, everything but that which I wanted you to be the most; mine.
Perhaps had times been different, we could have had the life that I often dreamed about. But as it were, war marred most of our lives, and the school required our attention the most. I don’t know if you ever felt more than friendship for me, but know that I loved you, silently and deeply, I loved you. It is on an old fool’s thin and ragged hope that I wonder if perhaps you loved me, too. If so, I am sorry things couldn’t be better, I am sorry I couldn’t be what you wanted me to be, but just know that I wanted it, too.
It is with teary eyes and deep regret for what we lost yet never had that I write unto you now. I left you my heart long ago, you were just not aware of my doing so, but is now that I leave you with these words, words that you never heard, but I ask that you imagine it is my voice reading them to you; I ask you to grant me this wish, even if my feelings you do not return. When you read these words I am about to write, know that I mean each one, and with each new phrase a fresh tear falls, as I wish I had been man enough to say them aloud.
The years went by, unstopping;
As dried leaves from the trees,
And I watched with longing eyes,
As they drifted in the breeze;
Each one different, a masterpiece,
Yet their lustre had faded away.
Each one with a story to tell,
Of a brighter, simpler day.
But as they danced and swirled,
And crumbled ‘neath wand’ring feet,
They knew not how it all would end,
What dreaded fates they’d meet.
When all is said and done,
They cannot be revived,
Never again to be united,
To the tree, on which, they thrived.
Oh! To have those years I wasted!
The many leaves I let drift by!
They’ve turned sheer and thin as paper,
Yet they cannot dry these tears I cry.
I rake them up with trembling hands,
Then jump within the pile,
Playing in the precious memories-
The memories of your smile.
I regret the words I did not speak,
They crumbled on my lips as leaves;
I choked them down, sweet and bitter-
Words I repressed, my hand relieves:
Years I watched you ‘neath silent lashes,
Your eyes like fire to my drying soul.
The words I kept locked deep within,
Yet my feelings I could not control.
Each glance, each brush of fingers,
Left me wishing it could be more,
That we could escape the sea of friendship,
For Love’s glistening, golden shore!
Yet I let the waves seal my lips,
While my wounds filled up with salt;
And while the pain was deep and lingering,
It was my own, the fool’s, fault.
So, my love, when autumn comes,
And your eyes turn to the sky;
Take notice of the lonely trees,
And the leaves that pass you by.
For in those leaves of dusty splendour,
Painted, flawless, brown with age,
Rests my unspoken vows of love,
That even death could not assuage!
My dearest Minerva, please remember me fondly in your memories, as I forever thought of you in mine.
Yours,
Albus Dumbledore
Author's Note: The poem "When Autumn Comes" included at the end of this letter was written by me, and is copyright 2006 Mandi Gayle - so please, do not archive and/or use it without my permission. Thanks!
Note: I wrote this as a letter Minerva finds from Albus after his death - BUT I did not write Minerva's reaction! I would like to CHALLENGE all of you to write her reaction to the letter
Let me know what you come up with, and I hope you enjoy this little letter!When Autumn Comes
by
Lamenting Quill
by
Lamenting Quill
My Dearest Minerva,
If your sparkling eyes are upon these words, then I have departed from this world of fools. I am embarking on the greatest journey man has pondered since the beginning of time; the journey of death. I may not have had the chance to tell you goodbye, but if I possessed one breath to utter one word, I hope it was your ears that heard.
Oh, my sweet Minerva. My hand will now tell you what my lips could not, for never did I reveal to you what I so longed to everyday. You have been many things to me throughout the years: first my student, then my colleague and friend, my successor, my sanity to say the least. You were my constant, the one thing in my life that was unchanging. When everyone else turned their faces from me over things they did not understand, even though you did not understand either, you looked at me with loyal eyes, and spoke to others with loyal lips. You were everything to me, everything but that which I wanted you to be the most; mine.
Perhaps had times been different, we could have had the life that I often dreamed about. But as it were, war marred most of our lives, and the school required our attention the most. I don’t know if you ever felt more than friendship for me, but know that I loved you, silently and deeply, I loved you. It is on an old fool’s thin and ragged hope that I wonder if perhaps you loved me, too. If so, I am sorry things couldn’t be better, I am sorry I couldn’t be what you wanted me to be, but just know that I wanted it, too.
It is with teary eyes and deep regret for what we lost yet never had that I write unto you now. I left you my heart long ago, you were just not aware of my doing so, but is now that I leave you with these words, words that you never heard, but I ask that you imagine it is my voice reading them to you; I ask you to grant me this wish, even if my feelings you do not return. When you read these words I am about to write, know that I mean each one, and with each new phrase a fresh tear falls, as I wish I had been man enough to say them aloud.
The years went by, unstopping;
As dried leaves from the trees,
And I watched with longing eyes,
As they drifted in the breeze;
Each one different, a masterpiece,
Yet their lustre had faded away.
Each one with a story to tell,
Of a brighter, simpler day.
But as they danced and swirled,
And crumbled ‘neath wand’ring feet,
They knew not how it all would end,
What dreaded fates they’d meet.
When all is said and done,
They cannot be revived,
Never again to be united,
To the tree, on which, they thrived.
Oh! To have those years I wasted!
The many leaves I let drift by!
They’ve turned sheer and thin as paper,
Yet they cannot dry these tears I cry.
I rake them up with trembling hands,
Then jump within the pile,
Playing in the precious memories-
The memories of your smile.
I regret the words I did not speak,
They crumbled on my lips as leaves;
I choked them down, sweet and bitter-
Words I repressed, my hand relieves:
Years I watched you ‘neath silent lashes,
Your eyes like fire to my drying soul.
The words I kept locked deep within,
Yet my feelings I could not control.
Each glance, each brush of fingers,
Left me wishing it could be more,
That we could escape the sea of friendship,
For Love’s glistening, golden shore!
Yet I let the waves seal my lips,
While my wounds filled up with salt;
And while the pain was deep and lingering,
It was my own, the fool’s, fault.
So, my love, when autumn comes,
And your eyes turn to the sky;
Take notice of the lonely trees,
And the leaves that pass you by.
For in those leaves of dusty splendour,
Painted, flawless, brown with age,
Rests my unspoken vows of love,
That even death could not assuage!
My dearest Minerva, please remember me fondly in your memories, as I forever thought of you in mine.
Yours,
Albus Dumbledore
Author's Note: The poem "When Autumn Comes" included at the end of this letter was written by me, and is copyright 2006 Mandi Gayle - so please, do not archive and/or use it without my permission. Thanks!
