Treasure is not Gold
Title: Treasure is Not Gold
Prompt: Special
Media: Fic
Characters: All the Straw Hats
Rating: K
Word Count: 274
Notes: This was ridiculously hard to write, but I couldn't be more pleased with the result.
There were many pirates in the world who did not understand the meaning of treasure.
Roving eyes sought piles of gold and gems - greed blinding true sight.
Except for the eyes of one exceptional crew whose names will one day echo in history.
An arm given for one, a life for the other; in two hats promises and hopes lie.
Straw weaved or pink furred matters not; just never forget a cure for the world or becoming the king!
Unrestrained in combat legs fly, but always kept clear is what will touch a sea of great wonder.
Ready for the scolding the doctor will have, he smiles proudly at the hands unharmed.
Easing the board in place, together they hammer it in to keep Sunny strong.
It’s road’s end they must reach if they wish to create a legacy of bravery and a ship of dreams.
Soil turns, shears trim brittle ends and the words of a ghost remind her not to neglect the roots.
Nimble fingers seek ripeness in the globe-like fruit; is this what a map of the world could be?
Open they lay: texts aged and yellowed, ready to crumble to dust (hurry, for stone can as well).
Thoughtful hands handle them, nothing more important than to preserve the past they tell.
Gleaming as its held upright, the sword seems new as polishing powder is meticulously applied.
Opal white: the color of the hilt and a childhood promise of strength are equally rich and pure.
Lather, rinse, and repeat and maybe sing a little song while working - “Yohohoho!”
Don’t overlook the split ends; keep it nice for Laboon is waiting!
Prompt: Special
Media: Fic
Characters: All the Straw Hats
Rating: K
Word Count: 274
Notes: This was ridiculously hard to write, but I couldn't be more pleased with the result.
There were many pirates in the world who did not understand the meaning of treasure.
Roving eyes sought piles of gold and gems - greed blinding true sight.
Except for the eyes of one exceptional crew whose names will one day echo in history.
An arm given for one, a life for the other; in two hats promises and hopes lie.
Straw weaved or pink furred matters not; just never forget a cure for the world or becoming the king!
Unrestrained in combat legs fly, but always kept clear is what will touch a sea of great wonder.
Ready for the scolding the doctor will have, he smiles proudly at the hands unharmed.
Easing the board in place, together they hammer it in to keep Sunny strong.
It’s road’s end they must reach if they wish to create a legacy of bravery and a ship of dreams.
Soil turns, shears trim brittle ends and the words of a ghost remind her not to neglect the roots.
Nimble fingers seek ripeness in the globe-like fruit; is this what a map of the world could be?
Open they lay: texts aged and yellowed, ready to crumble to dust (hurry, for stone can as well).
Thoughtful hands handle them, nothing more important than to preserve the past they tell.
Gleaming as its held upright, the sword seems new as polishing powder is meticulously applied.
Opal white: the color of the hilt and a childhood promise of strength are equally rich and pure.
Lather, rinse, and repeat and maybe sing a little song while working - “Yohohoho!”
Don’t overlook the split ends; keep it nice for Laboon is waiting!