Short Love Story

The boy sits beneath the tree. The girl shall come to see him, as he has sent the note, telling her to come.

Yet still he worries, wonders.

Will she come?

Will she come to laugh at him?

Will she come and tell him she has always loved another?

Will she not come forward, merely waiting in the bushes, spying?

He torments himself with these anxieties, his mind cannot rest for his fears, until at last he stands, deciding that no girl shall come to torment him.

He sets of through the forest, walking fast to forget about the girl, the girl who hates him, the girl who will not come.

He would never guess that girl he is about to meet, upon the forest trail, is one who shall not mock him, but love him till her dying day.

Walking

I am walking, the cold asphalt beneath my shoes echoing with the drumming of thousands of feet. I pause to watch the cars going by, traversing the gaps between the white and yellow lines.

Across the road I see a boy, with hair of sandy blonde. I know him well and the girl with whom he walks, his sister, escorting her home from school.

I raise one arm, as if to wave, then rethink and lower it once more. He glances across at me, as if my slight movement had caught his attention.

I smile, thinking that he sees me, yet I am disappointed. His grey–blue eyes stare through the place I stand.

Looking, yet not seeing.

Knowing, yet not caring.

He and his sister walk on, vanishing among the city's crowds. My thoughts are haunted by his eyes, staring through me, not noticing my presence, not caring that I walked this way, off my usual path, merely to catch a glimpse of his face.

The Mysterious Tale of Kitty Smythe

St. Meredith's School for Children with Unique Ailments is an odd place. All the children are "special".
There are amputees, children who were born with deformations, blind kids, deaf kids, club-footed people and mutes, like me.

No one knows what Kitty's abnormality is. She seemed to just not know stuff, like elementary addition. But then, once she learned, she never forgot.

Abnormal stuff started happening at the beginning of November. The weather was completely unpredictable, with sunny days and snow showers all at once.

And Kitty disappeared.

Her parents called the police, but none of them found anything besides that which we already knew: Kitty was walking by the river with Fred, her Doberman. She didn't come home by 5:30, so her parents went looking for her and discovered Fred, cowering and whimpering in the reeds.

I suppose the police should at least get credit for discovering two things: one was Kitty's shoe, and the other was five symmetrical indents in the sand, and some faint scorching. The entire thing looks like one of those staged "alien abduction" things on TV. As for us, her friends, we didn't believe a word of it.

The cops decided that nothing more could be done for Kitty: she was declared missing, assumed dead, and the case was closed.

We all handled the stress differently.

Eliza was heartbroken. She couldn't believe that Kitty was gone. Her cousin, her best friend, her idol, dead? No, she couldn't accept it.

Shamus was at the school because he had what most psychiatrists call a "delicately balanced mind". Something major, e.g., the death of his girlfriend, could drive him insane. And it did.

Carson wept. He was always so brave, courageous, stoic, etc, seeing him crying was almost as shocking as Kitty's vanishing.

Beth says she's always known of her brother's adoration of Kitty, but I'm not sure I believe her. She is an actress, after all.

--------

Beth was not as sad as I expected her to be. She was calm, and composed. She kept saying that we should go look for Kitty.

Carson agreed with her.

Shamus–well, Shamus insisted that Kitty was sitting right next to Beth; he could see her. Everyone pointedly ignored him.

Eliza said that Kitty was gone, and then burst into tears.

Carson followed her example.

I glanced at Beth. She was the youngest member of our group, and dyslexic to boot, yet she was acting the most sensible. Eliza and Carson would not recover unless we gave them a project to focus on. Looking for Kitty was a perfect project.

Or so I thought.

Three days later, after obtaining parental agreements, camping gear, and food, we went to the river. Technically, we were camping on Thomas' land and because he was another of Kitty's fellow actors, he asked to join us. Since he was in Ninth Grade and already almost six feet tall, everyone was willing for him to come.

After all, whatever got Kitty might come back.

We had told our parents that we would be gone for a week, and that this was a trip to get over Kitty's disappearance. They had agreed to our terms: each of us had a cell phone, sleeping bags, separate tents for boys and girls, and, of course, we had Thomas.

The first and second days (and nights) were uneventful. We had figured out pretty much what had happened to Kitty.

Kitty leaves house at 4:03PM, Thursday, November 12, with Fred. Walks through secret path in the hedges, because it is faster. Arrives at river at approx. 4:17PM. Walks for approx. 15min. At approx. 4:32 she stops and Attacker/s strike. Fred hides in the rushes and parents go looking for her.

I wonder if the Police got this far.

On the third day we had a breakthrough. Shamus was walking  around calling for Kitty. "Kitty, where are you? Kitty, come back!"

Everyone was happy that he had finally accepted the truth, even though the truth sucked. Everyone was equally depressed that we had gotten nowhere in our investigations.

On the third night Thomas saw something in the sky. Just a small dot of light, really, a satellite or star. Totally unremarkable.

Except that it was getting closer.

Carson immediately started filming it with his digital camera. Beth got out her mini-computer and the input cable so that she could Email the film to her parents and the local TV Station. Soon the light was so bright, we put away our flash lights. Beth emailed the video to Eugene News, then we waited.

Soon the TV crew was there, filming the asteroid and asking lots of question about who saw it, where, when, how, etc.

Beth acted as my translator. However, she edited one to many of my comments making it sound like I was saying something else entirely, so I left to help Eliza keep a screaming Shamus away from the cameras.

The light, by this time, appeared to be as large as car. Maybe an SUV. In any case, it would crush us when it landed. Everyone started to get out of the way, when suddenly-

It swerved.

The light veered out to the West, maybe over the ocean, and disappeared. Then we noticed something we couldn't see before. With the first light gone we could clearly discern several smaller lights following it. They also turned West, and all was dark once more. The TV people left, and Shamus calmed down.

"They're gone. Gone. Kitty can come back now. You can come back now, Kitty! Come back!"

He continued on this way for at least fifteen minutes. However hard he yelled, though, Kitty did not show her face. Eventually, Shamus fell asleep.

Then it was Carson's turn. He simply collapsed on the ground, sobbing. Eliza collapsed next to him. Thomas glanced around nervously. Even Beth sniffed loudly. I decided then and there that I wanted to study the human brain, since it was such an unusual subject.

Beth told me later that it was not knowing that was the worst part. If Kitty was dead, she was dead, but like this, not knowing, when Kitty might be alive, or might not be, that was what got to her, in the end.

Eventually I also lay down in the sand, and everyone just stared at the sky till they fell asleep.

I woke up to the sound of screaming.

It was Shamus, of course.

There were more lights in the sky.

Circling.

Round and round.

Getting closer.

 It must have been after midnight, yet we soon heard sirens, cars, voices, and so on. Eugene was waking up early. All the citizens had seen the UFOs. They were all panicking.

The media went crazy. No one knew what to expect. Some people went on about aliens, others blamed global climate change. Still others said it was God's punishment. Shamus insisted it was Kitty, trying to come home.

After a few days people started to get used to the lights in the sky. People were still debating the cause, but since their didn't seem to be any effects, no one was panicking anymore.

On the last night of our little camping trip, something amazing and awesome happened that still surprises me when I think back on it.

One of the lights was growing nearer, even as we watched. It was growing nearer so fast I think I might have even been able to scream, despite not having a larynx. Beth did scream, as did Eliza, and Thomas fainted. Actually, I think he is narcoleptic, but I'm not certain. Carson threw up out of sheer terror. Shamus just smiled and muttered "Kitty," as he stared at the light, his face aglow.

The light plummeted down, straight into the river, and, as it arose from the murky waters, I saw that it was only about the size of a VW bug.

I also saw what I was afraid to see.

A UFO.

And I knew that Kitty was inside it, waiting for us to come in.

In the Deep, Chilly Dark of New Year's Eve Night

A snake.
A slithery, slippery snake,
Winding its way through the fog in the field,
In the dark, in the dark,
In the deep, chilly dark of New Year's Eve night.

A light.
A booming, bursting light,
Blasting its glow in the poor snake's eyes,
As it wound its way through the fog in the field.
In the dark, in the dark,
In the deep, chilly dark of New Year's Eve night.

The rain.
The drizzly, drippy rain,
Dampening the light, that
Blasted its glow in the poor snake's eyes,
As it wound its way through the fog in the field.
In the dark, in the dark,
In the deep, chilly dark of New Year's Eve night.

A gale.
A blustery, gusty gale,
Blowing the rain that
Dampened the light that
Blasted its glow in the poor snake's eyes,
As it wound its way through the fog in the field.
In the dark, in the dark,
In the deep, chilly dark of New Year's Night.

A tree.
A tall, sturdy tree,
Blocking the gale that
Blew the rain that
Dampened the light that
Blasted its glow in the poor snake's eyes,
As it wound its way through the fog in the field.
In the dark, In the dark,
In the deep, chilly dark of New Year's Eve night.

A match.
A flaming, sizzling match,
Burning the tree that
Blocked the gale that
Blew the rain that
Dampened the light that
Blasted its glow in the poor snake's eyes
As it wound its way through the fog in the field.
In the dark, in the dark,
In the deep, chilly dark of New Year's Eve night.

A truck.
A flashing, screaming truck,
Spraying the match that
Burned the tree that
Blocked the gale that
Blew the rain that
Dampened the light that
Blasted its glow in the poor snake's eyes
As it wound its way through the fog in the field.
In the dark, in the dark,
In the deep, chilly dark of New Year's Eve night.

A car.
A smashing, swerving car.
Banging into the truck that
Sprayed the match that
Burned the tree that
Blocked the gale that
Blew the rain that
Dampened the light that
Blasted its glow in the poor snake's eyes
As it wound its way through the fog in the field
In the dark, in the dark,
In the deep, chilly dark of New Year's Eve night.

A giant.
A tall and creepy giant
That squashes the car that
Banged the truck that
Sprayed the match that
Burned the tree that
Blocked the gale that
Blew the rain that
Dampened the light that
Blasted its glow in the poor snake's eyes
As it wound its way through the fog in the field.
In the dark, in the dark,
In the deep, chilly dark of New Year's Eve night.

A snake.
A hissing, swishing snake.
Biting the giant that squashed the car that
Banged the truck that
Sprayed the match that
Burned the tree that
Blocked the gale that
Blew the rain that
Dampened the light that
Blasted its glow in the poor snake's eyes
As it wound its way through the fog in the field.
And the giant fell...
In the dark, in the dark,
In the deep, chilly dark of New Year's Eve night.
__________________________________________________________________________________Photo from this Website

The Story of Dainty Blossom, a Chinese Nobleman's Daughter Who Lived in the Song Dynasty

My name is Dainty Blossom. I was born right after my brother Great Mountain. My father Dan Bian was an astrologer at the palace of the Emperor, not the most important one though. Mother says I was very quiet as a baby, but I don't remember much of anything until I was five years old and father's older brother Bao Hu was coming home from a trip abroad.

Father had just bought me new shoes and a new dress. My shoes were much smaller than Great Mountain's; his feet weren't bound. Bao Hu had a daughter my age called Shining Eyes. Mother told me about her. There was a thunderstorm at her birth, and her eyes reflected it like a mirror. As soon I met her I was amazed: her eyes glowed. Mother told me to go look after my little sister Lily Petal, and Shining Eyes asked to help. Mother smiled at such filial piety, so she nodded, yes. Lily Petal was asleep so the rest of day was uneventful.

It was some time after this, eleven years really, when I got married. My husband, Han Yu, is an Astrologer under my father. At the wedding I only remember thinking (I know it isn't right, but its true) that I was to spend the rest of my life with a man I hardly knew. I got to know him much better because the following year I gave birth: twin boys. The elder of the two we called Strong Tiger, the smaller we named Golden Spear. Golden Spear looked so small, so fragile.

It was two years later when I gave birth again to a beautiful baby girl. Han Yu said we should call her Jade Tigress. However, shortly after I gave birth Golden Spear died. Still, we placed Jade Tigress under her crib, gave her a pottery shard to play with and announced her birth to the ancestors with an offering. Then we had Golden Spear's funeral. One year later another funeral; this time my father's. Mother said that, as he lay dying, he spoke "Dainty Blossom, yes, she's my daughter isn't she?" Mother believes I must have been a very filial child: he didn't mention any of my brothers or sisters, not Great Mountain, Bright Lightning, Golden Pearl, Silver Moonlight, Lily Petal, not even Falling Star. I am very honored. I stayed at my old home for three months. Then I returned to Han Yu's dwelling. When I came back I wept, just a little. Not long after this I gave birth again; a boy we called Springing Wildcat. 

Thirteen years later my mother died. I could not stay and mourn for long; I stayed for little more than a week. It made me sad to be so near to her spirit, in the home where I grew up. When I returned home I wept a lot. For Father, for Mother, for Golden Spear.

When I was 45 years old Strong Tiger married Emerald River, a magistrate's daughter. There were lotus flowers everywhere and Emerald River's feet were TINY. Good for her, I thought. Jade Tigress' feet weren't that small, neither were mine, even at that age.

Four years after the wedding I was riding in a cart to visit Jade Tigress and her twin daughters, Lotus and Jasmine. Suddenly another cart came rushing around a curve in the road. Those horses were panicked. Our horses veered to the side of the road. Unfortunately, we were a few feet from a cliff. The driver yelled, but it was too late: we were plummeting over the edge. The horses struggled to get free, all to no avail. A farmer found the wreckage in the morning. My name was Dainty Blossom, and that is my story.




The Photo is From This Website 

Fairies in the Wood

Fairies dancing through the trees,

In the face of joy, evil flees.

Hair spinning,

Darkness thinning.

Fairies flitting here and there,

Rosie as an apple, golden as a pear.

Balls of light between the leaves,

Tiny footprints, small as fleas.

Suddenly a Snap! a Crack!

Fairies all go darting back.

Running for cover, hither and thither,

Some with a slip and some with a slither.

Enormous shoe comes crashing down,

Their entire world shakes with the sound.

Another Crash!, and three and four,

Finally there is no more.

The Human is gone, its fine,

He's returning to his house to dine.

But he will come again, 'tis evident,

He will destroy these elegant,

These perfect, perfect little ones,
Each of their faces shine like tiny suns.

Now the Fairies in the wood,

No longer dancing as they should.

Instead of that, they cower in fear,

That more feet will come tramping near.

Yet we seem not to notice what we've done,

We've sent the minute frolickers on the run.

We laugh and sing and leap about,

When Fairies are mentioned, we give a shout.

We smile and think how small children feel,

Believing that Fairies are actually real.

Photo by Tyce Fraser

Poetry/Poesia

Ciò è una poesia.
È noioso e dolce.
Di tutte le cose stupide,
È il più peggiore nella terra.
Facciami un favore.
Nonlo legga, per favore,
Porterà sul vomito,
E una debolezza delle ginocchia.
È troppo tardi, voi lo ha letto,
C'è niente che possa fare,
Ma nonmi uccida prego;
Lo odio anche.

This is a poem.
It is boring and bland.
Of all stupid things,
It's the worst in the land.
Do me a favor.
Don't read it, please,
It'll bring on vomiting,
And a weakness of knees.
It's too late, you've read it,
There's nothing I can do,
But please don't kill me;
I hate it too.

Beauty is...

Beauty is the Sun on my skin and the wind in my hair
As we speed down the twisting dirt road.
Beauty is the light in the falling leaves
Making shimmering shadows appear.
Beauty is the Autumn rain in the mountains,
Falling on my skin, moistening the world.
Beauty is the fire in the stove
Bringing warmth on a cold winter night.
Beauty is the love on Christmas morning
Spreading smiles as gifts are exchanged.
Beauty is the feeling that life is reentering the world
As sunlight warms the earth beneath my feet.
Beauty is the smell of the creek rushing
Past as I lay on my back by the swimming hole.

Beauty is always changing,
Through the seasons and across the world.
In the trees and in the sky,
In river beds among smooth stones,
On top of a dandelion seed in the wind...
Beauty is.

Earth Spirit

She doesn't seem to care that I've startled her. She sits, quite calmly, in her little hollow at the base of the elm. Her hair looks greenish-brown in the light. So does everything else. Even her skin appears green-not sickly, a healthy tinge, like the meadow after a rainstorm.
She blinks her hazel eyes at  me. You know how the eyes of cows and horses look so calming? Her eyes are like that.
Then I notice it. Power. Energy. Magic.
I've met others like her, I realize. And then my mind had tried hinting things to me: She is like the wind itself, forever free I remember thinking, and another time: She looks like she's made of fire.
My brain does the same thing now. She looks like part of the trees, I think.
And she does. She is part of the forest.  I'm grinning now. I know who she is. "You're the Earth Elemental, aren't you?"
She nods "Yes, I am Amber."

Fire Tamer

She turns and smiles.
Her hair is a shocking shade of red blonde, and the sunset behind her doesn't help my eyes.
She looks likes she's on fire.
No, she looks like she's made of fire.


Then I notice her eyes.
They're both brown. Mostly.
One is flecked with red, the other yellow.


A breeze stirs her hair, adding to the fire effect.
She seems to be waiting for me to say something.
"Who...who are you?" I manage.
 She laughs, a sound as warming and yet as dangerous as fire.
"Mortal," she laughs,"do you not know me?"
I shake my head.
"I am Freisa, Fire Tamer."

Wind Child

She doesn't look up, she just keeps dancing. Round, and round, and round, never ceasing never resting,  just dancing. She is like the wind itself, I find myself thinking, forever free.
Her hair, my eyes are drawn to her hair. It is blonde. White blonde, with shimmering places that do not seem to have any color at all.
Finally, she looks at me. Her eyes. Oh Gods, her eyes. Her eyes. Usually eyes are just one color. Sometimes two. Not like hers. Oh gods. They are a million colors, all swirled together.
"What do you want?" she whispers in a voice like the evening breeze. Her words wake me up: her eyes are hypnotic.
"This is private land." I muster up my courage, "You're trespassing. What were you doing any way?"
She glares at me and her amazing eyes seem to fill with lightning. Then something truly awesome happens. She rises into the air. She whispers something that looks like a spell, but at first I think she is mouthing "Jade, send me rain"
Thunder rumbles in the distance. Real lightning, not from her eyes, flashes. Then it is pouring rain.
I fall flat on my face praying. As she alights upon the damp earth I raise my head.
"Oh great goddess, what name do you have? What shall be written at the entrance to your temple?"
She seems pleased with my admiring attitude, but cannot think of what to say. Finally, she shrugs.
"Opal"she says.

Fool's Pride

A flag.
Fifty white stars, embroidered on a sea of blue.
Stripes. Some red, some white, fluttering on the evening breeze.
So proud.
So many stripes. Altogether thirteen.
13.
Unlucky.
An orange glow lights the evening sky.
Flames obliterate the stars. A flag, on fire, the dignity of a nation, no more than ashes on the wind.

The Power of Anger, enough to inspire someone to end the pride of a nation with no more than a match.

Aphrodite

"You're so beautiful" I say.

She looks at me, utter radiance shining from every inch of her perfect form. Beautiful? Hardly. Gorgeous is closer to the mark.She gives me a look of pity. A look reserved for lower life forms. 

I feel anger boiling up inside me. I despise her elegance, never faltering, never messing up. Divine for all eternity. She sits on her throne of gold, and lavish dresses, strings of pearls and amber earrings are heaped up before her as offerings. None of these fineries are good enough for her sublime form, however. She deserves better, she says.

You know she can't help it. This is a new thought in my head. It makes me even angrier because I know she put it there.

"I hate you!" I scream. I can't stand the way she struts about. Compared to her I'm ugly, although compared to mortals I'm breathtaking.

"Now Persephone," she begins, cocking her head slightly, pretending to look concerned, but really attempting to allow her resplendent jewels to catch light.

"Shut up" I say, "I'm going to ask father to send me back to Hades two months early, because compared to you, he's kind!"

I stand up and storm out of the hall, allowing the heavy golden doors to slam behind me. I'm sick of my evil sister-in-law!

New Post

Sorry All,
I've been having an epidemic of writer's block. If you have any ideas about poems I should write, let me know. Thanks.

Winter

Who is the goddess of winter?
Who paints the world snowy white?
Who has glistening blue eyes
And hair of pure shining light?

Spring is lovely,
Fall is fine,
Summer is warm
And very kind.

But who is the goddess of winter?
Who makes the snowflakes fall?
With icicles all crisp and clear,
She is the fairest of all.

Beware of the Ominous Gloink.

Beware! Beware of the Ominous Gloink!

It makes ducks go "Squeal!" and cows go "Oink!"

It creeps around at night,

It is a ghastly sight,

It's fangs all glisten,

And if you listen,

You hear the Shunk

Of the fleeing skunk

As even it runs away,

Not waiting for the coming day.

It waits till you're not looking,

(Mayhaps while you are cooking)

Then it gobbles you up,

Before it's sup.

It's claws on the counter go clink,

It swishes it's tail in the sink

It now skips on home, boinky-boink,

Since it swallowed you up with a gloink.

Beware! Beware of the Ominous Gloink!

It makes ducks go "Squeal!" and cows go "Oink!"

Apples

Apples are lovely,

Apples are nice,

But apples do not

Taste good

With rice.

The Sound of Birdsong

The sparrow's songs warm my heart.

The tiny starlings quickly dart.

The blackbirds flutter, up and down.

The raven soars in a velvet gown.

The redtail hawk glides swiftly by.

Hear the scrub jay's warning cry.

Robin redbreast, in a suit so fine,

He finds some worms on which to dine.

The sound of birdsong, ringing true,

It echoes across a sky so blue.

Through the valleys, over the trees,

Each note picked up on the Humboldt breeze.

The city makes them hard to hear,

Though I discern them loud and clear.

Many children do not know

The sound of birdsong.

-----------------------------------------

Photo By Kathryn Mann

Entered also in Audubon Contest

The Wind Child

 The Lady, she dances, her feet hardly touch the ground.
Her hair, a river of glittering stardust, it twists, writhes, swirls.
Her laughter, like the ringing of bells or the singing of fairies, echos across the valley.
Her eyes shimmer a thousand colors, they reflect the sea, the earth, the trees, the very air we breathe.
She is the wind itself, forever free, she can be chained to no man's domain.
I watch her leap, moving on the breeze, no matter how sad it makes me, imagining if she would marry me.
She smiles, the sunset cannot match the brightness of her smile.
She whispers "Come with me." I take her hand and we sail up, past the clouds and into the gathering dusk.
Perhaps she loves me after all.

The Goddess

    The wind blows through the treetops,
She is coming.
    The Earth shakes beneath my feet,
She is coming.
    The Water in the stream rushes,
She is coming.
    The Fire in the valley rumbles,
She is coming.
    Something moves behind me,
"I am here."