“Y” Yellow Hammer #atozchallenge

 

Y

In the Scottish village of Glockneister, a stranger posted a notice on the town square, informing the townspeople that in Chelmsford, Essex, three women, accused of being witches,  were hanged.

“I have a warrant and will pay one gold sovereign for information of anyone engaging in necromancy,”  Matthew Hopkins proclaimed.

Deep in the Selkirk forest lived a hag named Diana Quinlyn. She was a High Priestess of Wicca, a midwife and a healer for the village of Glockneister.  Quinlyn knew that her enemies would lead Hopkins to her door and collect the bounty. The town was anxiously awaiting the Mayday celebration.

That evening Quinly treked to celebrate the Sabbat Beltane with her coven. By the light of the full moon, they would develop a plan to subvert the witch hunt.

The next morning, feeling somebody was watching her cottage. She nimbly climbed the oak to check a nest. It was custom for the village boys to destroy the nest and break the eggs of the nesting song bird. Local superstition held that the Yellowhammer drank a drop of the Devil’s blood every Mayday morning. The reason for this superstition was the birdsong resembled a warning,” de’il tak ye’” (“devil will take ye”).

Making sure that the eggs were safe, Quinlyn scuttled to the ground. Two eggs were gently cradled in her apron while three boys came out from the bushes.

“The villagers tell that you’re a witch.” The oldest one said.

“Is that what they’re saying now? That didn’t seem to much matter when I was your mother’s midwife.” Quinlyn said.

“We saw you talking to the ‘Gwas y Neidr.’” (The servant of the snake).

“Aye I was. I’ll show you what I was doing,” she produced the eggs.

“The brown markings on the eggs, do know what they’re for?”

The three boys blanched white when they saw the markings.

“The priest said the marks were put there by Satan.”

“The universe and everything in it constitutes the Gods. The brown lettering on the eggs denotes the earth.”

“What does it say?” One of the younger boys asked.

“It is writing from the Cabala announcing the circle of life.”

The boys, scared witless, sprinted into the woods. They sought out Matthew Hopkins, telling him what they seen.

Quinlyn carefully removed the bird to another nest and prepared for visitors. The three boys returned with their benefactor.

“The eggs with Satan’s writing are in that nest!” The oldest boy said pointing.

“I shall see about this,” Hopkins said, climbing the tree, sliding his pasty fingers into the nest, trying to collect the eggs. Gasping, he quickly withdrew his hand. He crashed to the ground, lying motionless.

“What happened?” The youngest boy squealed.

“He offended God and was struck dead for committing a sin,” Quinlyn said.

The boys froze in their tracks.

“What will happen to us?” The youngest boy started to cry.

“Nothing as long as you keep this episode locked in your heart and never mention it to a living soul.”

“We swear!” They trembled in unison.

“Just remember if you do, God will take his vengeance, because he always protects the ones he loves.” Quinlyn said.

The boys looked at each other, turned and bolted. Quinlyn watched the boys disappear into the brush. She climbed the tree and carefully removed the Asp coiled in the bird’s nest, returning the viper to the forest, where it belonged.

My friend Steve Slack was kind enough to help me finish up the A to Z Challenge. I hope you keep your eyes out for Steve’s books that I believe will jostle your senses. Steve is a published writer with loads of experience in sniffing out evidence.

You can find Steve on twitter @iwritecrime

his blog: http://weshootcrime.wordpress.com

Facebook: Steve Slack

Your Arms #poetry #atoz #napowrimo

ourbook3

Maybe it takes walking

through life’s fiercest heated fires

to arrive at  green meadows

feel each blade of grass grow

*

Maybe it takes

enduring life’s harshest foamy storms

to revel in radiant sunshine

as it sparkles in your eyes

*

Maybe it takes

an upending, battering shipwreck

to relish salt’s splash

playing upon cheek and eyelash

***

no matter the fires

the storms or the wrecks

in your loving arms

is where I’ve found warm peaceful rest

Photography “Anchor” copyright L. Moon 2011 © All rights reserved

Wow tomorrow is the last of a month long blogging challenge hosted by the fantastic Ato Z Challenge Team. Thanks to Lee and all his crew as they have encouraged more than 1400 bloggers to do what they do best – write!

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Nautilus

This year for  A to Z challenge, I am using the Nautilus as my inspiration all month. The shell has many chambers (at least enough to fit all the letters.)  You will find poetry,  You will find some dark stuff (as I am attempting to branch into the horror genre), You will also see a smattering of short stories or prose (some with children in mind) others as lessons that we can all learn from. I look forward to  meeting you and getting to know some talented writers over this month long writing journey. Please check over at the A to Z challenge and see what they are up to; they are a fine bunch of folks.

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Yawl #atozchallenge #poetry #life’slessons #sailing #napomo

She was ours this sturdy craft

maiden voyage stem to stern packed

we set off on a lark that day

knowing not that bad weather was in the way

we pitched  we rolled

our new craft took a toll

we trimmed  we sailed

and emptied quite a few pail

an ugly grey squall no less

it was sent our way to give the test

when sun’s weak rays came at last

we knew one of many we had passed

for others would we be ready

in our life there would be plenty

storms to test our merit

lessons for love we would bear it

***

There are many challenges in life. If we cannot weather those storms our life is not hardy and hail. This is my offering to the A to Z challenge. A lesson of life packed into this “Y” – my little “craft” bobs and pitches on a regular basis but we are still “afloat.”

The beautiful seascape is by artist Konstantinovich