The Golden Key (Revisited) #Grimmfairytales #children

Celebrate the Grimm Brothers today and 200 years of children reading their fairy tales.

Rumpelstiltskin-Crane1886

Today is the 200 year anniversary celebrating the work of the Grimm Brothers who wrote 200+ fairy tales. I read The Golden Key and felt it had ended prematurely so this is my suggested part two to the tale:

key_to_my_soul_by_petaldreams-d4oyb4d

The boy’s hands had been frozen cold by the snow. He shivered wondering if he had the strength to return home. He looked at the key. So tiny yet full of life; he could feel it. As the gold key turned in the box, the key began to grow and glow. “I am warm,” the boy said in cheerful surprise.

The fire he had hoped for sprung up around the key, but the boy was brave and touched the fire without being burned. He now knew this was no common key.

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. He held fast to the curious box fearful it would vanish.

The box became hot as it ignited from the key’s glow. The boy 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 cold frosty morn. 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, the 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 heart.

Photography The Key to My Soul by Petal Dreams at Deviant Art

Over at New World Creative Union and the Wednesday Wakeup Call the call is to embrace the fairy tale genre (old or new) and be inspired. 

I can hear the chorus #NWCU #poetry #Photography #travel

You stand so still these days

yet in each brick

I hear a phrase

“Gloria in Excelsis Deo”

**

Angels supplication

as your heart’s pour out

remove the suffocation

of these troublesome times

***

For peace our plea hear

good will toward all men

Women’s tears

bathe the earthen floor

***

mine mingle with theirs

in a unified Accapella chorus

that spans these years

between aged walls

Photography: “Sound in the Old Chapel” L. Moon copyright 2006

On a visit to UK, several of us chorused Christmas Carols (in August) in an ancient chapel. The harmonic tones rung so rich off those old brick walls.

Enjoy today at NWCU and Wednesday Wake Up Call hosted by Joanne Eliot.

var _gaq = _gaq || [];
_gaq.push([‘_setAccount’, ‘UA-36671303-1’]);
_gaq.push([‘_trackPageview’]);

(function() {
var ga = document.createElement(‘script’); ga.type = ‘text/javascript’; ga.async = true;
ga.src = (‘https:’ == document.location.protocol ? ‘https://ssl’ : ‘http://www’) + ‘.google-analytics.com/ga.js’;
var s = document.getElementsByTagName(‘script’)[0]; s.parentNode.insertBefore(ga, s);
})();

Silent Song #nature #photography #poetry #NWCU

Do you hear it – The chorus of silence right before the dawn?

shaking the noise of dreams

eyes lock on silence

pulling herself through

she grabs at a ray or two

and then

sounds beyond the imaginable

birds singing

trees rustling with dancing leaves

color writing a score yet to unfold

with a song none can hear

but the eye can for now behold

Today over at Wednesday Wake Up Call Suzie Clevenger has encouraged us to reflect on silence. Something I am fortunate to have quite alot of these says.

Shades of Edgar #NWCU #WWUC #poetry #music

Welcome to Wednesday Wake Up Call. I’m in the middle of writing a short story for Halloween so this ghostly “Poe like” prompt hit it for me.

Max Ablitzer  will be performing at the Bush theater in London on November 3. Poetry will be read by Tishani Doshi; it should be quite a night

the ravens

hated birds

dance over your grave

I am jealous

mauled by their “caws”

they get you each day and  through the night

i lost you every day and more so at night

you laugh

I know

I hear it at dusk

as you go…

***

there is nothing left

to pick apart

or the ravens

those black billed beasts

would pick at my heart

taunting

scolding

revealing

each

inner

most

feeling

as

F

o

L

L

Y

!!!!!

Please join us at New World Creative Union and share your creativity.

Moving the Elements #NWCU #microfiction

fire can be moved with a subtle air…

Falling Sun

“I am air” the nymph proudly said to the lion after having her request refused.

“You can neither move me nor displace me. I am fire.”

“Ah we shall see.” the nymph smiled with a half wink

“We shall see…”

Nymphs (especially the air ones) have an uncanny ability to change shape and size.

“It is not a big blow but a small, elemental one required of this beast .” she giggled to herself.

A sleek feline entered the grassy meadow where a maned lion lay fast asleep. She circled first so that the silent air would carry her scent. stealthily she walked up to the beast and whispered “Catch me if you can”

She bounded off into the trees knowing when he caught her scent he would follow. She found another meadowy area and laid down. She rolled crunching the grass and making sure her scent was obvious. Before he arrived, she became a nymph once more and ascended into the trees to watch. He bounded toward the area and waited for her return. He seemed to look sad and displaced but soon roared and fell asleep.

The nymph was tickled but dared not disturb the beast.

“This tea party is the very best you’ve ever had.” all her guests exclaimed. The nymph agreed. The meadow was the perfect setting.

Smiling she thought “Air wins over fiery Mr Lion.”

In the breeze, a lioness returned to the meadow …

Photography “Falling Sun” L. Moon copyright 9/2012

This post is in response to  Natasha Head’s Wednesday Wake Up Call over at New World Creative Union.

rivrvlogr

Looking ahead, without looking back (too often)

mrswrangler

Thanks for following a cowgirl on her crazy life journey.

Maria Michaela Poetry

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before. - Edgar Allan Poe

A Unique Title For Me

Hoping to make the world more beautiful

Writer Ravenclaw

Books by author Diana Coombes

Some View on the World

With previous posting of "Our World" on Blogger

I Write Her

my humanity in written form

Reena Saxena

Experiments in Creative Writing, and more ....

michnavs

Poetry by Mich

Love13Reading

FOR READERS AND ASPIRING WRITERS

radhikasreflection

Everyday musings ....Life as I see it.......my space, my reflections and thoughts !!

The Children's and Teens' Book Connection

From Board Books to Clean YA

Trisha Faye

Cherishing the Past while Celebrating the Present

MOM AND IDEAS

FROM ONE PARENT TO ANOTHER

Therapy Bits

Living life with dissociative identity disorder and complex ptsd

Brizzy Mays Books and Bruschetta

Predominately Books But Other Stuff Too

Monty’s Blahg

Home of Monty Vern

Faith Builders with Philip and Michelle Steele

Building your faith and framing your world by the Word of God