This, I thought, goes well with a wonderful piece done by Susan Schroder called Golden Wood Dryad. Check out her amazing work.
A young sapling asked of a near by tree, "What was it the first seedlings saw?""Before we became the forest rulers growing so mighty and tall?"The young tree was aware that the oaken giant lived not in that time long ago.His rings of age gave no hint or clue this only the stones could know.More fable than truth the story was said carried on the winds whispering breeze.Told and retold while coloring the facts reciting from tree to tree.He said, "In those young years the new world was as pure as a child's dream.""The billowing clouds filled a bluer sky, Earth and air was fresh and clean.""Dancing among the green leafy sprigs and making the new woods there home,were winged children who nurtured the new till all had fully grown."The tiny tree then asked, "Where had they gone? I've never seen such things.""How wonderful to have such woodland care takers, these children adorned with wings."Sadly the old tree shook his branches as he told the tales final part."They passed to beyond," He said with shedding leaves brought on by a heavy heart."Curiousity took hold within there wild spirit, one by one each went away.""Was it better ware they went?" The tiny tree asked, "Is that why they didn't stay?"The giant then said, "There fate was sealed for they were innocent right to the core.""When they learned of the world, there innocence was gone and they too for ever more."On the path to maturity some things are gained while others as important are lost.Be careful what you trade for, for that which you seek may not be it's final cost.Discovery
Saturday, August 2, 2008, 07:02 PM EST
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I ventured once to see a mystic man about some hidden truthseeking answers to a burning question festering since my youth.Doubt and confusion accompanied me as I made my wayto heed warnings by the great and brave and all they had to say.They told there tales while trembling of what he had in storethe horrors and great evils and of things he's done before.Still I knew this was mine to do and to do my self-alonecrooked was the path that leads me to the wizard's home.Ashen dry and drying weeds and thorns most everywhererotting wood and stony rock assured the trail stayed bare.A chill of wind and smoky smell filled the graying skyI turned to see a fleeing shadow pass so closely by.Knocking branches and rustling leaves was all the noise I heardExcept for the call or the hoot of a hunting bird.All I had to keep me safe was my coat and walking caneI sang aloud a travelers song to keep me brave and sane.My walking pace stayed as quick as my beating heartNever allowing fear it's chance was the hardest part.Entering the land that was the wizards glowed with energyinstead of leaves all the trees were filled with electricity.Every rock tumbled and rolled the grass did a graceful danceeven the clouds high in the sky were caught in some odd trance.And there before me stood a castle shining like the sunit sat between the start of day and before the night was done.Before my knock the heavy doors unlocked swinging slowly widehow badly was my wish to flee or find some place to hide.Like a reluctant soul made to return back into it's graveI entered dressed in an untailored fit disguised as one whose brave.A vestibule of gleaming stone appeared before my darting eyeextending beyond my gaze away from me, towering just as high.And centered in the great hall way were stairs made in crystal glassflanking on both it's sides were polished railings of golden brass.The massive doors that had led me in loudly thundered as they shutI swallowed hard on my escaping courage till it knotted in my gut.As I turned the room had changed to a dimly lit foreboding placeThe vestibule along with the doors had vanished without a trace.Standing in a snow-white robe was the one I came to seewithout a sound or expression he stared coldly back at me.Between us drifted a fog like mist over a cauldron dark and deepreleasing buried thoughts in my mind could I no longer keep.Looking deep within the vat I seen the real that lies in sidethe very thing I feared the most and worked so hard to hide.I seen what consequences I would face should I release my other selfthe friends I'd loose the loss of love the changes to my wealth.So different would my life had been the chances, joys and dangerif I had switched places with my self and gave-in to be the stranger.To the mystic man my life was as a book one he before had readno sooner was a question imagined did its answer fill my head.So why am I, whom I am, what made me the person I am now?To know who you are is all that matters and not the why or how.But still there exists with in each of us a person we cannot denypretend it away and say it isn't there is like trying to live out a lie.It's there for a reason a second chance or to offer another choiceand screams out at you so strong and so private in a tiny suggestive voice.Worship not at an alter built to praise the deceptive alter egoreversed and perversed it's promised life in darkened paths to follow.In the end you are who you are and who you were always meant to bedespite any changes you would have been you but only eventually.The mist billowed up from the vat and filled the room till nothing could be seenI arose just to find the morning sunshine and the end of another dream.
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Made a small contribution to The Unseelie Court group
Thursday, July 3, 2008, 08:49 AM EST
[General]
It's a poen called An Enslaved Succubus. Love to get some feed back.
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The July and August Fairies
Monday, June 30, 2008, 07:05 PM EST
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The two most playful fairies of the month's are in August and July.Spending there days in games and funas they soar in the summer sky.How irresponsible and so carefreethese twin sisters have become.With not a concern nor worry in the worldon how anything is to be done.Children these two will forever be never wishing to fully mature.Pranks and jokes and fooling aroundwhile achieving nothing more.Sometimes in play they can go too fartill Mother Natures nerves are worn.Scolding the two for there childish waysin the form of a thunderstorm.But still there nature is the summera careless time to live.A chance to fiddle and frolica diversion from life's worries it gives.And who hasn't felt the stir within to step back a couple of years.Most when hearing the sound of playing childrenringing within the ears.For Mother Nature this is the very reasonshe lets them play there little games.Summer is made for all childrenwithout them it wouldn't be the same.
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The Summer Fairy
Friday, June 20, 2008, 10:27 PM EST
[General]
Honey blond hair of the summer fairy shineswith a radiant glow like the sun filled sky.And when in lightning flashes of the darkest storm reflect her wet tresses as they gently dry.The mountains, valleys and hills are green and aliveas she soars high above so carefree.A princess whose kingdom is a warm bright worldstreching as far as the eye can see.Blessed with flight made on silken wingsextending beyond the reach of her arms.Making also her way on light graceful bare feet a dancer skilled at performing her charms.Clothed in white linen and of silks and of laceher gowns are made to adorn such a queen.Freshly picked flowers make up her royal crowna lovely vision born from a beautiful dream.If by chance you were to stop and give your self-resta need the soul cries for after drearier days.You may indeed glimpse the pure essence of summer as she passes through the suns golden rays
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