Ann, when she walked through the enchanted woods,
Met her friend the fox, all brilliant white, name Kitsune …
The fox so enchanting, as danced a lissome dance
Told Ann of all her adventures and made promises, saying:
“I’ll find you a bold prince dressed in bright red and gold”
But Ann knew her friend and the lies she told, and smiled.
© G.s.k. ‘15
The prompt:
After all, you only have six sentences…
Everyone has heard of Puss and Boots, no doubt because being a male chauvinistic world no one looks further than a pair of scruffy boots. My name is Brynhildr but I allow my human to call me Brynn. We met one spring evening while I was out with my brother and sister and I decided to adopt the poor boy, he really needed someone to straighten out his life. By the way, Puss was my great-great uncle on my mother’s side. Here’s the story I want to tell you …
Our life together was rather nice right from the start. He knew just the right games to play and oh how I loved the kibbles he offered me – really scrumptious. So I thought it might be a good idea to help him make his way in the wide world. No one could have done it better than I, of course.
One morning, as he was snoring on the bed, I bopped him on the nose to get his attention and then once he was awake, flew out the window. He jumped up instantly and ran to the door to follow me. We live near an old castle in Northern Italy. I remembered from listening to Mum that old uncle Boots had put aside a bit of treasure, just in case, in the castle.
Once I reached the door of the castle, I discovered that the place had been over-run by mice. These weren’t just ordinary mice of course, they were enchanted and right arrogant too. They sat around in a circle not far from where Puss’ treasure was hidden singing a silly mouse song:
scrape, scramble, peck and laugh
looks like the dish is frozen fast
silent seven in a nameless land
look over the brim of a speckled band ….
My human came clumsily at a run and grabbed at me where I stood near the door watching the mice. The mice of course heard him long before he actually got to the door and so had plenty of time to run to their refuge just under an old plank. They hadn’t seen me though so I was one up on them.
We went home and I had my breakfast then sat down at the window to watch the birds in my persimmon tree. After a while, White-face, one of my neighbours came sauntering as proud as you please into my garden.
“Psst, White-face! I’d like to ask you a question or two about the castle.”
“What do you want to know about it?”
“Well, I was up there today and I saw seven mice sitting in a circle reciting poetry …”
“Poetry? Is that what they call it now? Anyway … that doesn’t sound like a question to me!”
“It wasn’t because you interrupted me you gormy cat. But you answered my first question anyway … so you know who they are. Tell me about them.”
“Not much to tell. They’re enchanted … they were set up here, so I’ve heard, some centuries ago by an ogre who’d lost all his belongings to one of Us. They’re the seventh generation of the Silent Seven to live in the castle and they’re there to take revenge on any cat that gets near a treasure which was hidden there by Master Puss. Or so goes the legend. Fact is, they’re a bad lot, even the local count is afraid of them. The humans have been trying to get rid of them for years!”
“Ah … interesting!”
I sat for awhile taking in the news. I thought and I thought until I came up with an idea. But first of all, I’d have to talk to my human.
“Meowr … chit chit … brrr-rup” I said as I jumped onto his lap.
“What a chatter box you are dear Brynn!” he said.
“A lot more than you might expect!”
He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard me address him.
“Don’t go quirky on me old boy! I’ve got something to say which you need to hear, so listen.” I told him the Uncle’s story(which he seemed to have already known) and then info that White-face had just given me.
“By rights … I figure that treasure is mine to dispose of as I see fit. So, I’ve decided that it should go to you so that you can make us comfortable.”
“Uh … sure, uh … “
“Don’t stutter. What I need is some of my kibble … the special Sunday treat and one of those mice prisons. I’ve got a feeling that I should be able to get them away from the treasure with the kibble … I’m not sure they’ll fall for the prison though. What you have to do is slip in QUIETLY once they start following the kibble trail and then just under a broken plank in the floor not far from the door, you’ll find a strong box. Grab it and come out to where I’ll be waiting for you.”
The plan worked a charm, the mice followed the kibble trail and all but one walked right into the mouse prison.
My human came out holding a strong box … he then looked at the mouse prison a little worried.
“Well, now we curry favour from the local gov. Take this prison to the constabulary. The count has put a reward up for their capture!”
“Hey, if you do that, the coppers will kill all my mates! We’ve done nothing to deserve such treatment … but you know how humans are.”
I looked at my human … and he looked at me. It’s was one thing to capture enchanted mice but after all but to kill them – it was not their fault they’d been born into a weird family. It just didn’t seem right that they should be killed just because they sat around singing in an old abandoned castle. On the other hand, I did want my human to have all the benefits of wealth and fame.
“Listen Kitty Brynn,” my human said. “I can’t profit from another creature’s death. That just isn’t who I am. We’ll take the mice out to the woods and let them go, once they’ve promised never to return. We do have the treasure … “
“That’s a great idea young human … once the treasure is gone we don’t have to stay here anyway … and once you’ve taken us away from here, the enchantment is ended! We sure would prefer to live in the woods!”
So that’s what we did. When we got back home my human opened the strong-box and we found 20 solid gold, mint condition, sovereigns … they were worth millions. So we were well covered wealth wise. As for fame … well you have to know my human’s a writer and I’ve told him quite a few tales he’s published, you know his name of course it’s … but I can’t tell you that now can I … it would ruin his reputation!
© G.s.k. ‘15
Tale Weaver #40: Snow White Stop Kissing that Frog!*
Sunday Whirl – Wordle 225
Once upon a time when the world was new … on the edge of a gloomy wood lived a handsome man whom everyone called, Tatterdemalion. He was tall and as lithe as a willow with fair skin, dark hair and hazel eyes. Some thought he was a hermit, some a luminary others still thought he was just lazy and a ne’er-do-well.
In point of fact, he was the descendant of a great king, but couldn’t ascend to the throne until he’d killed the leopardess Bryndle. Tatterdemalion wasn’t the sort of person who liked to grope in mortal combat with leopards, in fact, he’d rather have made friends with the beast. So, he’d left his father’s kingdom and found this tiny cottage on the edge of the gloomy wood and draped himself in rags to hide his origins.
One day while out walking in the woods gathering mushrooms to make his dinner, he came upon that very leopard he’d been pledged to kill the day he was born.
The leopardess sidled up to the tree he’d scrambled up when he spotted her and said, “I’ve been informed that you are no common woodsman draped in rags, but a prince.”
“And who told you this?” Tatterdemalion asked warily.
“I’ve my informants. They also say that you are supposed to kill me.”
“Yes, I’m a prince and I’m supposed to kill you but as you can see, I prefer a woodman’s life to a king’s life.”
The leopard looked at the prince and said: “You wouldn’t be a very good hunter, don’t you know that leopards can climb trees?”
“No I didn’t, nor did I know that leopards could speak with a human voice.”
“And do you know why you’re supposed to kill me?”
“No.”
“Well then let me tell you the tale.”
And here is her story:
When you were being born, your father went out hunting to calm his nerves. He came upon my father, the great leopard king Mauer who was out hunting as I was being born. Your father and mine had come upon a herd of gazelle and chose the same male to hunt down. They mutually agreed that whoever caught the gazelle would take it home and keep it’s skull as a trophy but also as a reminder that one day their heir would be required to hunt and kill the heir of the other in order to reign.
They made their vow before the fairy king Simerson who placed the pledge in a potent magic prism with this apothegm : “An heir is only an heir by keeping birth rite pledges.”
“And so, Bryndle you’ve come to kill me today?”
“No, I went to my fairy god-mother Bast, who is the mother of Simerson and asked for her to find a way to break the prism and free us from that stupid pledge! There is only one way. We should marry! So, she gave me a potion and upon drinking it, we will be of the same species and thus we can break the pledge … so neither of us will be required to kill the other.”
Tatterdemalion thought and thought … “And what species will we be?”
“I’m not sure … I think it will be a new one which will be able to live with both humans and leopards.”
And so, Tatterdemalion and Bryndle drank the potion and married living happily ever after. The results can still be seen today we call their children, brindled cats.
© G.s.k. ‘15
(images via: Science Photo Library, Science Notes and Volker’s Blurb)
Tale Weaver 30: once upon a time . . .
1. Grope 2. Hazel 3. Skull 4. Mutual 5. Luminary (A celestial body, as the sun or moon. A person who has attained eminence in his or her field or is an inspiration to others.) 6. Leopard 7. Potency 8. Tatterdemalion (A person in tattered clothing; a shabby person.) 9. Sidle (to move sideways or obliquely.) 10. Prism 11. Apothegm (a short, pithy, instructive saying; a terse remark or aphorism.) 12. Drape
Silver raindrops fell in the sunny sky creating a magical world of light and rainbows.
“Ah – a sunshower! Today is the day that Kitsune marries. We should go to the woods and see if we can see the wedding procession!” whispered Tampopo giggling.
“Don’t be silly Tampopo … since when does a fox get married?” Replied Momoko who was older than Tampopo and didn’t believe in fairy tales anymore.
“Everyone knows that when the rain falls on a sunny day the foxes have their wedding procession … then they all go to Kitsune’s house at the end of the rainbow to celebrate.” Tampopo replied seriously.
“Well, we can go to the willow and invite them for tea then. I do like the idea of taking a walk in this sunshiny rain … let’s go!”
The two girls in their bright sundresses grabbed an umbrella each and took off for the nearby woods. Momoko who was the more conscientious of the two, scribbled a note leaving it on the table for their mother; it read “Gone to Kitsune’s wedding!”
The trees seemed to whisper as the gentle rain fell among the leaves. Tiny crystals of rain caught the sunshine on the flowers, looking for all the world like tiny diamonds.
The little girls found their favourite copse where they’d often played together that summer. A willow tree created the perfect protection for their alcove in the woods. Over the summer, they’d brought their china tea set, a small table and pillows to sit on and often pretended to invite the wood kami, or some beautiful princess to have tea with them. Today, they intended to invite Kitsune and her wedding party.
“Kitsune will surely be very beautiful dressed in a white kimono. And her own true love will be dressed in red!”
“Oh can you imagine the music they will make … I can almost hear the shakuhachi, cymbals and drums!” said Momoko.
“Me too!”
And indeed, drifting through the woods there did seem to be the sound of a lilting flute followed by the crash of drums and cymbals. The sound came nearer and nearer and the little girls looked at one another a little worried. It was one thing to imagine a fox’s wedding procession, but quite another to actually be where one would pass. Everyone knew that the foxes didn’t like for humans to interfere in their affairs.
Soon the music was upon them, and the first members of the wedding procession appeared on the path near their alcove. The girls made themselves as small as possible trying to hide behind an old oak near their copse, but they’d already been spotted.
“Who are you? Why do you spy on our Lady Kitsune!” said the forerunner of the party.
The little girls fell on the ground in deep gassho, avoiding the eyes of the courtesan.
“Honourable sir, we were having a tea party under the willow and never meant to spy on Lady Kitsune!” said Momoko. Technically speaking, Momoko didn’t really believe in wood spirits anymore and she’d never have imagined to actually see a fox’s wedding, so although they were there to spy on the foxes for her it was only make-believe.
“Oh, honourable sir,” said Tampopo, who did believe in wood spirits and could taste tea from an empty cup, “Would you and your party like to have some tea with us?”
Momoko trembled in fear and hoped the procession would soon pass on, but at that moment, Kitsune herself had reached the alcove and had heard Tampopo’s invitation.
“Ah – what a most generous offer!” said Kitsune “My consort and I will have tea with you and then, you will come to our house at the end of the rainbow and sip sakè with us to celebrate this happy day!”
They sipped invisible tea, complimenting Tampopo for the perfection of her serving manner.
“Would you like to live in my house Tampopo? I could do with a person like you who knows how to serve tea so exquisitely.”
Before Tampopo could reply, Momoko said: “Oh honourable Kitsune, my sister is expected to serve tea today for our mother and we really should be running home.” She was afraid that Tampopo would accept Kitune’s invitation.
“The duty to one’s mother of course must come first!” said Kitsune “Let’s proceed to my house then so that I may honour you with a cup of sakè before you return home.
So the two girls followed the procession until they reached a small house. A servant had prepared a table in the garden, which was full of peonies and other bright flowers, including a plum-tree and a beautiful jasmine bush.
In the breeze the flowers swayed. The raindrops that had fallen on their petals looked like tear drops. Momoko had a very bad feeling about tasting Kitsune’s sakè. The cups were set before the girls. At that moment, the rain stopped. Momoko pretending to be clumsy fell into her sister jerking the sakè cup from her hand and dropped her own. A single dark cloud appeared in the sky, obliterating the rainbow and with it Kitsune’s house. Only the garden remained. Where the sakè had fallen, two little girls now stood.
“I am Umeko and this is my sister Riko. It is so lucky for us that your sakè fell on us as the rain stopped and the rainbow disappeared! We’ve been in this garden, captives of the foxes since the day of her Kitsune’s mother’s wedding now more than twenty years ago!”
Momoko imagined that the garden would have had the addition of a peach tree and dandelions if they had drunk the sakè. Momoko and Tampopo grabbed the hands of their new sisters thinking it would be better to be far away when the rainbow returned … deciding to avoid the wooded paths when sushowers fell in the future.
(Meaning of the names – Momoko – peach blossom child, Tampopo – dandelion, Umeko – plum blossom child and Riko – Jasmine child)
Up in the woods behind the village there’s a place where lover’s sometimes go. Private, mossy and cool when the summer haze sets in this place is as inviting as any four star hotel. The smell of wild thyme and pine fills the air and a cuckoo’s serenade often echoes through the trees.
One day, a young couple came upon this happy corner of the woods and decided to have a picnic. They put down their nap sack and laid out a blanket. Before eating their lunch though, they started kissing and well … you know, one thing leads to another. Their love song wove its way from tree to tree; then came his mighty climax – it sounded like the roar of a lion and her return call sounded like the cry of a hawk.
A woodsman was walking along the path that would have led him to their refuge but he stopped short when he heard their love song. He must have been at least seventy years old. He stopped, for a second clearly remembering another summer day so many years ago. He thought of his wife, now a little bent and yes a bit fat. What a lovely girl she’d been. Then he caught sight of his veined-knobbed wrinkled hands. He smiled and with a chuckle thought that he too had been quite a good-looking lad. Whistling an aimless tune, he took another path that would lead him home. He figured he could be there in just over twenty minutes and as he thought this, a vision of his lovely girl came to mind.
in a summer haze
a cuckoo’s call in the woods
inviting love
© G.s.k. ‘15
Written for Tale Weaver: Bedtime Story featured on Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie
Painted by Jennie Harbour
In a dark and grim forest, where wolves howled and the wind blew, I saw a flickering light and so I bounced down the path seeking out that light and after a time I came upon a crystal coffin; within the crystal coffin surrounded by perpetual candles slept a very handsome princely man with a magnificent beard. His head lay upon a silk pillow, his pelvis was bound in a gorgeous red damask codpiece. (I just mention this in passing.)
I thought I’d smother from the internal flame that flowed instantly into my … uhm … heart. Sublimating my thoughts of love by thinking about this month’s syzgy of the moon, sun and earth, I emitted a sigh.
“Never-mind the codpiece!” I said to myself, as a heroine one really must overcome this incessant inner chaos. Anyway, at this point I noticed a note attached to the clasp that held the coffin closed it read:
Open carefully and if you kiss the prince upon his lips he will awaken.
“Ah,” I thought, “a male sleeping beauty! Now this could get interesting”
In wonderment I carefully opened the lid of the coffin and caressed his soft uhm … beard with reverence then kissed his ripe lips.
His eyes flew open and he gasped:
“My lands woman! Just how old are you?”
© G.s.k. ‘15
This post was written for Mindlovemisery’s Mengerie’s Monday Wordle and Thursday Tale Weaver Post – Be a Bad Writer (I did my best) where we were to pick a genre and open our story with the worst possible beginning sentence, possibly with not more than 58 words. … I went way over the 150 word limit and before submitting this to the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest.
My voyage began years ago
Seeking the Nazar of ancient lore
I walked the deserts
I walked the plains
Always seeking what I’d never found.
“Is this land a dream or reality?”
An old woman beckoning says:
“Come to me …
Come to me!”
I was seeking what I’d never found.
She held the Nazar in her hand
This is yours if you pass the test
“Could this be the moment
When I end my quest?”
Always seeking what I never found.
I wandered in someone else’s soul
The world around me a different light and hue
A nightmare grappled me for my soul
I awoke with a mighty sigh
Always seeking what I never find.
I tossed and turned upon my mat
Composing words to free my mind
Then I must have dozed away
I walked in the wind of a storm …
Always seeking what I never found.
The song of the angels in harmony
Rivalled the concert of the masts
And a flock of gulls let out their cry
We’ll take you to the great Nazar!
I sought what I’d never found.
In the darkness an eye appeared
A guide to wanderers in search of luck
Electric blue a centre of white
Larger than ever I’d seen before!
Always seeking what I never found.
An ominous sorcerer raised his head
All covered in scaly emerald-green skin
Not a dragon but not a man
He held the Nazar in his hand …
He sought what he’d never found.
“You want this thing I’m holding here?”
Croaked the mage in his cold voice
“I captured it many years ago
And have become what you now see …
I’m still seeking what I never found.”
The sacred Nazar glowed in blue
As he held the pendant out to me
I hesitated quite filled with fear
Knowing my heart was impure …
Always seeking what I never found.
I reached out my hand to grasp the charm
When something pulled upon my arm
“Touch not the Nazar lest you perish
And be reduced to ashes friend …
What you’re seeking will never be found.”
The sorcerer howled like the wind
In anger his green light filled the world
“Take this thing away from me!
Become the guardian of the eye!
Always seeking what you’ll never find.”
I awoke drenched in a cold sweat …
My heart pounding within my breast
My vision clouded but I could see
A large blue eye calling me …
“Always seek what you’ll never find!”
Oh Nazar of ancient lore
I’ll not seek your luck anymore
I’ll walk the Earth and I’ll recall
This vision planted in my mind …
Of the cost of magic
And the cost of power
Which few know in their mindless search –
Power, wealth and fortune
Seem a wondrous goal
Until you’ve found them and then they grow
Within your soul like a gnawing foreign plant
For you’ll want more and ever more
Always seeking what you’ll never find.
© G.s.k. ‘15
§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§
This post is linked to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie’s Fairy Tale Prompt
Credits: Photograph – Matej Hudovernik
Videos – Wings of Desire (The Concert of Thoughts) by Wim Wenders
Sounds of Sailboats Singing in the Wind...Sounds by Knight
The reason we were commissioned was because the gauntlet had been thrown by the proud green-eyed Empress, so we set off to find Atlantis the fair and proud. Some say it had been lost because the Gods despised the arrogance and haughtiness of its people. Atlantis, was said to be the homeland of the nobility of our beloved land. Some whispered that Atlantis was just an excuse used by our nobility to reign our beloved land.
The Empress gave us a map and then after heart-felt prayer to her family ancestors, our Kami allies appeared and now walk the dark roads with us. Some say that the land of Atlantis is in the sea – some say only in man’s mind but as we looked upon the map we were surprised to see that Atlantis was to be found under the great Himalayan mountains.
We followed the highways and byways and goat paths and then no paths which lead into those majestic mountains. The nights were dark and fraught with fear and we noticed we were being spied on by foul demons of ancient lore. However, we’d been chosen not because of our prowess with sword or spear – we were armed in fact with only our bravery and pure hearts.
We came at last to a small pass between two towering mountains. In this pass and the valley into which it lead, the sun hadn’t shone since the memory of man. It was shunned by all living things. Into this eternal darkness, cold and forlorn we walked … the Kami glowed with an ethereal shimmer, they seemed to know the place well.
We came upon a tower among broken crumbled rubble that lay every which way. Streets there must have been – everywhere there were signs of a powerful civilization. We made for the tower and once we there we found an open metal door. Passing through the door, we looked upon a great hall. There were no spider webs or dust. Everything was in perfect order. Along the wall we saw stairs leading to the belfry. In front of us we could saw a throne and an altar. Going further into the great hall a music mysteriously began to play and lights shone everywhere. A figure appeared upon the throne and upon the altar a book.
“My children you’ve come at last for knowledge and wisdom. We lived our lives long and though we acquired knowledge we lost wisdom. Today, you see the results and today with you begins our new era. For it has been foretold that three humans and three Kami with come and acquire from me both knowledge and wisdom. You will bring new life to the world and a new age of serenity.”
The tower door clanged shut, the building began to tremble. We felt a movement as though we were moving downwards into the Earth herself! After a while, the movement stopped and the door opened. We looked upon a world that resembled a soft moonlit garden and were greeted by a tall graceful woman. She said: ” Welcome to Atlantis.”
Urami no Taki (The Waterfall Seen From Behind)
Behind the waterfall,
Kitsune bathed each morning
singing witching songs
in clear bright lilting tones.
When young men passed,
If their hearts were impure,
they’d languish with love.
Urami no Taki
offered Kitsune its waters,
her sweet forms hidden
in the white curtain of water.
There passed one day
a handsome Buddhist monk
who ignored her songs.
Kitsune surprised
spied the young Buddhist monk
so fine was his body
his eyes like bright clear stars.
She sang to him then
in her most seductive voice
he ignored her song.
Love swelled in her heart
for he was lovely to see!
She saw that his heart
was as pure as bright new snow,
she called out to him
and he stopped and he smiled
yet without desire.
She sent her image
inside of his pure soul,
she wished to own him
to make him her true lover,
but his heart was full
she could not plant her seed
he sang his own song.
“Oh Fox, Namaste!
I see your bushy red tail
though you seem a maid.
I walk the Pure Earth’s path
compassion’s my song
and I love you sweet and true
but I love the way more!”
So she shaved her head
for the love of the pure monk,
renounced her tricks
her magic and her strange songs
and was known as Inari.
© G.s.k. ‘15
This choka was written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Fairy Tale Prompt and it has absolutely nothing to do with Inari Okami or the real stories about Kitsune .. these are just flights of my imagination.
in the land of light
fairies, jinn and kami
love to give gifts
they know no special days
always generous
they give all throughout the year
harmony and peace
and laughter are their songs
winter wonderlands –
in deserts, woods and parks
the wee folk teach us
how to live in peace and light
just by living life
© G.s.k. ‘14
Today’s there is a special photo edition of the Morning Haiku and Waka over at Through the Eye of Bastet please click the link to see it!
Mindlovesmisery’s Menagerie – Fairy Tale Prompt and BJ’s Shadorma & Beyond
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Noreen Crone-Findlay talks about the crafts she loves with her friend, Tottie Tomato. They'll be sharing tutorials, how to's and step by steps for spool knitting, crochet, doll making, small loom weaving, wood working, paper crafts and all manner of other fun crafts. This is a family friendly blog.
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Poetry. Art. Book Reviews.
a forum for the study of the materialism and ontology of finance
Written Thoughts are unlocked Treasures of the mind...
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Observations and views from a different set of eyes
Advice on Writing, Publishing, and Book Promotion
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A Blog of Books and Literature
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wāhine on the go
Poetry ~ Waka
Carpe Diem's Tanka Splendor is part of the Carpe Diem Haiku Family. It's a weekly tanka-meme in which you can write and share tanka inspired on a given prompt every Saturday (mostlty, sometimes it will be on another day).
Haiku inspired (mostly) by my walks in and around Eastbourne
Often rough and filled with switchbacks, the road this child of God is traveling Home.
poetry... mostly...
About fantastical places and other stuff
MALTAWAY TRAVEL per Viaggi, Corsi Inglese e Incentive - maltawaytravel.wordpress.com
a happenstance journal
Who, What, When, Where, How & Why
brenda warren
Mindful parenting and modern pagan lifestyle.
life happens . . .
Noreen Crone-Findlay talks about the crafts she loves with her friend, Tottie Tomato. They'll be sharing tutorials, how to's and step by steps for spool knitting, crochet, doll making, small loom weaving, wood working, paper crafts and all manner of other fun crafts. This is a family friendly blog.
Random musings, observations and thoughts from inside a VW camper van.
Poetry. Art. Book Reviews.
a forum for the study of the materialism and ontology of finance
Written Thoughts are unlocked Treasures of the mind...
Welcome to the Feline World of Nera, Tabby and Fluffy
Observations and views from a different set of eyes
Advice on Writing, Publishing, and Book Promotion
An Artist's Eyes Never Rest
Poems
A Blog of Books and Literature
Misk Cooks
wāhine on the go
Poetry ~ Waka
Carpe Diem's Tanka Splendor is part of the Carpe Diem Haiku Family. It's a weekly tanka-meme in which you can write and share tanka inspired on a given prompt every Saturday (mostlty, sometimes it will be on another day).
Haiku inspired (mostly) by my walks in and around Eastbourne
Often rough and filled with switchbacks, the road this child of God is traveling Home.
poetry... mostly...
About fantastical places and other stuff
MALTAWAY TRAVEL per Viaggi, Corsi Inglese e Incentive - maltawaytravel.wordpress.com
a happenstance journal
Who, What, When, Where, How & Why
brenda warren
Mindful parenting and modern pagan lifestyle.
Bastet and Sekhmet's Library 