MissUnderstood #poetry #lessons

Mis step in a comment

I wish I didn’t get

if fluffy is my heart

I’ll eat my Seuss hat

levity refreshes

kindness relieves

 there are harsh words

I think my Lord grieves

learn from a child

“grown” people rarely do

“a person’s, a person”

and that’s really true

When I was a child we were taught: “If you can’t say something nice,  don’t say anything at all.”

I’m sure we didn’t understand all the implications but I think they meant “A person can be hurt by inconsiderate words.”

 

Attribution for Clip Art

 

 

 

 

The Making of a Knight #tellastoryday

national-tell-a-story-day-april-271

The boy’s hands had been frozen cold by the snow. He shivered wondering if he had the strength to return home, but he must mother needed the food. He imagined the warmth of a blazing fire. He saw a key that poked out in the snow. So tiny yet he could sense its power. Curious how a wooden box appeared. “There’s a bit of magic I would guess” much later to that he’d attest. As the gold key turned in the box, the key began to grow and glow.

The fire he had hoped for sprung up around the key, but the boy was brave and touched the fire without being burned.

Though many people in the presence of magic ask for something to ease their lot, the boy was content to hold the warm key and box. The box got heavier until the boy reluctantly set it down on the ground, but he continued to hold on tight. As the flame grew more intense, the box, which revealed itself to be pure gold, became clear like glass. The boy expectantly peered inside. The only thing he could see was a plain gold ring. He reached in through the fire, grasped the flame filled ring, and placed it on his finger.

An onlooker would have seen a most magnificent thing on that frozen eve. A key, a box, and a ring transformed a boy to a knight. The glow about him melted the snow. A kaleidoscope of color mingled with the fire,  flowers sprung from the impotent earth, fruit sprouted on nearby trees, and life that had so long ago departed returned to the barren land.

Little did this simple boy know that he was chosen by the key for a mission. The knight would save many downtrodden soul in the cold, unrelenting world and provide golden hope for the besieged. Long after the knight was gone stories would be told, through the land, of the knight who carried warmth for all in his hands and his heart.

Today is National Tell a Story Day.

shiny key 1

The Golden Key #fantasy #postaday #fiction

shiny key 1

I was a golden key

fashioned just after time was turned

and I knew I had a purpose

 but forgot all I had learned. 

I placed myself in large  hands

of those who perchance might  serve

but one after another

got what they deserved.

And so I hung despondent

 on a cold and lifeless  tree

hoping for an answer

and one that would set me free.

I heard someone so cheerful

but she was  so very young.

“What can a child do

when the others failed all and one.”

The sun hit just right

and she reached and stretched her hand.

She and I both surprised

for her height seemed to expand. 

“I heard a story once,”

her voice so sweet and low.

“Yes,grandmother knew it well.

A key with a golden glow.

I dont remember all

but let me linger now.

We will go back and see

what if time had cast a spell.”

So the girl and I sat

for a long and timeless while

but I really did not mind

she had such a winsome smile.

“Yes, I remember”

she patted me in her palm.

“You open up a place

by singing a forgotten song.”

She hummed and sang the songs

 all the ones she had been told

and as I watched before me

this small child got very old.

She held me and it warmed me

and I began to glow.

 A gnarled and weary door

in the tree began to show. 

“There it is in the middle”

a keyhole she did find

and I was oh so happy

to at last meet my own kind.

We passed through the door together

she transformed into herself

so fairy like her beauty

and I a greenish elf. 

*****

Today’s Daily Post writing challenge asks the question:

You’ve been given a key that can open one building, room, locker, or box to which you don’t normally have access. How do you use it, and why?

I did not submit the following story today as it was an archived short story that I created as a continuation from an old Grimm’s Fairy Tale – The Golden Key was it’s title.

Other’s who have also written about the Key:

 

 

Moon Beast #halloween #shortstory #children’sfiction #amwriting

the beast below

It was long ago when the world was young.The Moon some say was bright and full once or twice a year but then she would be gone for weeks at a time.” My grandmother said with a quiet, serious voice.

I closed my eyes. Grandmother told great stories.

“There were fewer people, no one to protect our world or our universe.  I do not think when Mars chased Luna that he intended to sire a beast. But beast he was.”

“How can such silvery beauty as I spawn repulsion?” she screamed as she flung him into the abyss of night.

“I am sorry, Luna. Please forgive me” the love struck Mars pled.

“Our love created that foul thing. We cannot be together, ever.”

“So Mars retreated to his corner of the Solar System looking each evening for a glimpse just a whisper of her , his  dearest Luna.”

“A star took pity on the child as he somersaulted through the dark. She sheltered him, giving him time to grow. The star did not intend for its kindness to be met with such  hatred. The beast devoured the star and grew strong.”

“You fool he sneered you should have let me die. He shook his fist at his mother,  a piece of the star hanging from his mouth.”

“The beast found himself on a planet called Earth.  It was green,full of life. The beast could not stand the light so in daylight he would vanish. At night dogs, chickens even people would be found missing. None wanted to believe the folk-lore. 

“Grandmother, I simpered how can we be safe from this beast? I will never go outside at night again.”

“There, there child. Listen…

For some time the dark beast  roamed the earth never content with his destruction. He would stoke the earth’s innards and make rocks so hot that it flowed from mountain tops into villages below. It was not enough. The Moon Beast for so he was called by the Universe would grab the sinews of the earth and pull shaking the ground, making worlds tumble.”

“We must stop this” Venus  looked with a jealous side glance at  Luna.

“I have no power over him, none at all,” Luna cried.

“There must be a solution” said the usually disregarded Pluto.

“He has one weakness, have you not seen?” The Sun rumbled. “He cannot be in the light of my rays. Perhaps I could shine day and night.”

“But you cannot Father Sun,” Saturn  wrung her hands.

“Luna, on the nights that you come out our son shrinks in strength. Your beauty makes him sick. Perhaps if you shine each night, he will die.” Love burned in Mar’s eyes.

“How can I destroy my son?” Luna despaired.

“You must” the people of the earth chorused to the Heavens.

“What did Luna do Grandmother?”

“Sadly, the celestial mother put on her silvery shawl to steal herself against the cold night air and kept a nightly vigil. The beast could not stand her light with time he grew weak. Luna too was growing weak. Mars saw it and wrapped his warm arms around her once or maybe twice a month to give her rest. It is said that on dark, moonless all hallow’s eve night’s  very strange things happen. No one knows for sure if the beast died. Luna continues to shine.  She hopes her son is still alive. She sighs in relief each time her dearest Mars comes so that she might rest. Tonight, grandson, if the moon is hidden you must run to your home.  Quickly now and keep your doors locked; I have heard strange tidings.”

The next morning a mournful wail  into the a blood-red dawn. 

“Luna WHYYYYYY?” Continue reading

My First Wheels #children #haiku #photography

Child’s Play – L. Moon

Candied apple drips

sticky hand grasps handle bars

I can’t let go

*

little hands and feet

stumbling in attempt to run

shoes are too big

*

I can’t let go

sweet memories that surround

little hands and feet

*

shoes seem too big

hands grasp the wheel and lever

jerk as the clutch pops

autumn imagination CD 8

This wonderful tricycle surrounded by fall is our Carpe Diem Inspiration. What do you remember about childhood?

I’m not sure I had a tri-cycle as a little one. We lived on a hill so I’m not sure have something without brakes would have been a good idea. It was tough learning how to skateboard and bike when I was older 🙂

The Girl With Many Kindnesses #atozchallenge #life’slessons #photography #fantasy

walking stick

One day a little girl was sent on an errand for her mama.

“The road will be long but you will be safe as long as you extend kindness along the path.”

“Of course, mama,” the girl smiled knowing this would not be a difficult task.

In her head she recited the things she needed to buy: “Milk, butter, flour, and a ham hock for making soup.”

She met an old frail woman on the path. “Oh, she looks like she might trip and fall on that root.” The little girl rushed to aid the woman.

“Goodbye,” she waved after helping the woman to an even part of the path.

A little further along, she heard sobbing. She noticed a young woman with her head bent so low she might fall into the waters below. Without thinking, she bobbed over with a cheerful face and gave the young woman the bouquet she had been picking for her mama. “One so fair, let the beauty of the day drive away your cares,” She said as she skipped off.

Just outside of the village, a scrawny lad leaned against the tree. “He looks so hungry.” A tear formed in the girl’s eye. “There must be something… ” She remembered the bite size sandwich her mother had made for her journey. “I know it’s not much, but I hope you will gain  strength from my small lunch.”

“But what will give you strength little one?”

“I have plenty of strength to get me safely home.”

As the man at the market loaded a canvas sack, he noted that it was too heavy for the girl. “How will you manage?” he implored. He had knowingly added some medicinal herbs and a jar of medicine for the girl’s sick mama.

“Sir, I don’t know” her face showed concern ” I am suddenly feeling tired from my journey.” The man smiled “Eat this; it will be enough.”  As she ventured out, she knew she must be swift, her mama needed these things.

As she left the store, someone handed her a walking stick. “This may to you strength bring.” She smiled in “thanks” as the gift giver hurried off.

“I must be lost for I do not remember the huge tree in the way of my passage.” The tree tried to scoop her up. She waved the stick like a fly swatter and the tree shrank in size. “I hope the boy, who ate my lunch, is safe, ” she thought.

“The path can’t be right for there was no raging river in my way.” She looked and looked for a way around. She waved the stick and the river became a brook once again. “I hope the girl is free from the water’s pull.”

“I’m so tired,” the little girl huffed and puffed. There was a small donkey standing just up ahead. “I don’t remember you,” she said as she climbed gratefully on his back. “You are a wonderful creature,” she whispered in his ear.

A howling wind, accompanied by a blizzard, blocked her pathway home. “No you don’t,” she scolded as she raised the stick high. “We must get home to help mama.” The storm turned to a misty, much needed rain.

As she bounded into her small, warm home, she noticed her mother was pale and almost blue in color.

“Oh mama, take some of this that the nice man sent to make you feel well. I will make these herbs into a tea.” She raised the stick. “You have taken care of me. Please help my mama.”

The girl’s mama rose from her couch with her strength restored. As she gathered her girl into her arms, the little girl became a young woman, kindness beamed in her deep blue eyes.

“Thank you stick.” she whispered. She knew not that all along it had been her many kindnesses that had given the power to the stick.

Life’s Lesson: Remember to give a kindness today; you never know how it may be repaid.

atoz-oldbook-01-wb

 

Nautilus

Photography: “Walking Stick” copyright L. Moon 2013

I am participating in the A to Z month long Blog Challenge – Today’s letter “K”

Gone to the Deer #Christmas #Night before Christmas #Santa

santa-and-reindeer

It was the night before Christmas

when all through the house

not a creature was stirring

though we don’t count

Brubaker our mouse

The children with Nestle’s

were wired though in bed

with threats that Saint Nicolas

would skip us instead

And mama in her black nightie

and I – I can’t say

were  settled down before midnight

hip hip horray

Then out on the lawn

there arouse such a clatter

I sprang with my shot-gun

not caring about the spatter

away to the window I flew

well – I ran

“I’ll shoot you I promise”

I winked “if I can”

The blue moon on the white

new fallen snow

led to thoughts of wolves howling

I just want you to know

But thankfully

tonight seemed very clear

it was Santa

a sleigh

and eight overfed reindeer

He whistled and chortled

I called ” come quick dear”

as he shouted out the names

I exclaimed “not so near”

Now Dasher, Plea Dancer

No Comet, Stop Cupid!

Please Prancer

Vixen

you’re just acting stupid

Yes Donner

we know we know

WE KNOW

Blitzen  there’s to be

no partying in the snow

Get off their porch

that’s an easy low wall

now dash away

dash away

before from exhaustion I fall

As the dry leaves

that in piles still lay

and hurricane Sandy

would have done a number on that sleigh

I watched

as they scampered and tiptoed and flew

oh I forgot

“Santa, it’s a new roof too”

and so I calculated

as I heard on that roof

the prancing and pawing

of too many hoof

As I pondered the cost

and was turning around

impossible as it was

In the chimney he was found

He was dressed in fur

from his neck to his foot

Prada saved from our chimney

with no ashes nor soot

A bundle of toys

 were loaded on his back

and candy

oh please

we have an abundance of that!

As our eyes met

his dimples looked  cherry

“Santa have you already

been making merry?”

His droll little mouth

well it said “no no no”

“your face too would be red

from the ice freezing snow”

I grinned and then smiled

as I grabbed some egg nog

“will you join me my friend

I promise you wont get too slogged”

so we sat by a heater

I sipped and he guzzled

then he realized

“those deer they’re not muzzled”

Here are the toys

they were flung off his back

“I’m sorry wages were cut

so none will be wrapped”

We laughed at the time

I’d spend wrapping whee heee

but you have to admit

they’re delivered for free

so as he, cup in hand,

went back into flight

I heard him exclaim

“THANKS, til next year

have a good night”

Thanks to Clement Clarke Moore who published “A Visit From St. Nicholas” in 1822.