Midsummer Stew

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“Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild,
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world’s more full of weeping than you can understand.” – W.B. Yeats

Conla picked early sage in her garden. Her family traditionally made a lamb stew for their midsummer feast. Her mother, Bronwyn, was inside their house braising the lamb with spring onions and chives. Conla heard her neighbor’s voice, and turned to see him walking under their archway with its pink roses and purple clematis.

“I can’t find a thing! My jackets are missing their buttons. My trousers all have holes. My wallet and keys are missing again! Are you doing this to me?!” Conla’s neighbor in the white cottage next door was Seamus O’Flanagan. Their two houses were the only ones for miles in that wild part of County Wicklow. The American had retired and come to the old country to write and paint, in the county of his ancestors. His wispy white hair was standing up in the wind, and his cheeks were red with anger.

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The Giant Argument

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Miles pretended to be a mountain goat, jumping from rock to rock up a tall hill. Beyond a valley was another tall hill. Together the hills were called the Granite Twins. Ahead of him, a rock slide started, and Miles took cover behind a ledge of granite. Big rocks bounced by, but none reached him. Suddenly, the earth trembled. The tall twin across from him seemed to wobble, and then another landslide of even bigger rocks started across the valley. Miles started to hear voices.

“Get your elbow out of my ear!” the voice sounded like a knife screeching across rock. A deeper voice shouted: “Your knee has been in my back for a thousand years!” A fissure appeared in the valley below, and red lava hissed out of it. Clouds of sparks rose into the air from the lava. Before Miles’s amazed eyes, clouds of sparks swirled through the air, changing leaves into crystals and sparrows into cows.

The ledge Miles was sheltering behind started to rise up in the air. He was standing on the shoulder of a giant! A cloud of sparks drifted over him, and he felt a burning, stretching feeling. He opened his mouth to yell out, but he heard the scream of an eagle. He moved his arms, and flew high up over the hills.

His eagle eye saw the twin hills trembling in earthquakes, with lava churning and trees falling like flowers. He needed to stop them or the disturbance might harm someone. What could he do?

“You were always mom’s favorite!” the first voice screamed. The second deeper voice returned: “That’s silly! The rain falls on both of us equally, and the sun shines as many days on you!”

Miles flew past the giant’s heads, screaming out an eagle challenge. Their slow, clumsy hands turned to swat him away, but he was too quick and graceful in his eagle form. Miles noticed the earthquakes start to subside, and the lava fissure closing up. He continued to fly around the giant’s heads, screaming, like an annoying mosquito to the twins. They teamed up, and tried to catch him, but he rose up high in the air where they could not reach him. He was aided by the wind, which lifted him in clean-smelling gusts.

“I’m tired!” the first voice screamed. “Me, too!” the deeper voice agreed. Slowly, both settled back into tall hills. Miles landed back on the ledge of granite just in time. As the fissure closed, the clouds of sparks disappeared. The crystals turned back into leaves, the cows turned back into sparrows, and Miles turned back into a boy. Miles ran as fast as his legs would carry him back to his family and friends who were all talking about the earthquake.

“Did you feel it, Miles?” Miles didn’t even know how to begin answering them.

Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham

Caught by a Witch, What’s a Poor Mouse to do? Make Spine Poetry!

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Super Zen Mouse,

Short, shy fellow,

Stranger in wildwood pond —

A summer spell —

Witch of blackbird pond, blue

Wolf feet, who

Force-swallowed a flea!

Inside Outside

Too Perfect Curse.

Click on the picture to see the spines larger and find the words (or letters) on the spines. Do you have poems laying around the house? You could go on a poetry treasure hunt like we did!

Copyright 2013 Brenda Davis Harsham

Thanks for the idea Aussie Bookworm! Happy Friday and thanks for reading!

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Namaste to the Trees

Peonies on the deck

“You’re swaying,” Jenna said to her big sister Elaine. Elaine was standing on one foot, with her right foot on the opposite leg and her hands in front of her chest, as if praying.

“I’m balancing.” Elaine responded peacefully, raising her face to the sun shining on the deck and bringing her arms up like tree branches. Jenna liked that Elaine never got mad at her. Sometimes big people got mad at her unexpectedly. “This is tree pose,” Elaine continued. “Want to try?”

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Jewel and the Moon Princess

Lightning on a Dark Night

One dark, stormy night, Jewel and her mother, Esperanza, played Mexican Train dominoes while the rain lashed the kitchen windows. The wind bent the trees sideways, and all the birds and squirrels were in hiding. The lights flickered and went out. Jewel could no longer see the walls of the kitchen, and the lightning briefly lit the kitchen.

“I can’t find any matches,” Esperanza said. “I know we have a lantern here somewhere.” Another flash of lightning lit the dark cupboard her mother was searching. She heard the whirring of her mother cranking a lantern before a boom of thunder made her cover her ears.

“I’m scared.” Jewel whispered in the dark. Somehow talking about fears in the dark seemed natural. Her mother lit the lantern and gave her a big hug. Her mother laughed deep from her belly, just in the way that always made Jewel smile.

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The Prophecy and the Runaway Frog

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Jasmyn often dreamed of flying. One night, she flew on the back of a bird to a new land. The bird grew tired even though Jasmyn was light as a feather. She landed in a ring of stones, and her bird friend tucked its head under its wing and slept.

Jasmyn could hear a stream, but she could not see it. She followed the musical sound, and found the stream through a bank of yellow irises. Jasmyn wandered for a time, smelling flowers and rolling down the hills, without getting any green stains on her dress, for this was an enchanted place.

She sat, braiding gerber daisies into a crown, when she chanced to see a frog hopping madly down over the top of the hill. It skirted the stone circle and plunged down toward the stream. So intent was the frog on rushing down the hill, he didn’t see Jasmyn until too late, and she scooped him right up.

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Prince Columbine

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Prince Columbine hung his head like the flower he was named for. His father, King Pine, wanted him to become a judge in the court, but Prince Columbine never had the right words. His sister, Princess Starflower, could talk rings around him.

“I would give anything to sit in the court like you do,” she said, failing to understand how he could be sad about it, her golden hair falling in petals around her glowing face. “If you had just told Farmer Wednesday that you would check the records and get back to her about the boundary marker, all would have gone well. Why did you have to tell her that a foot one way or the other doesn’t matter? Of course it matters to her.”

“Well, when you put it like that, I get it. She was so angry. It just didn’t seem that important.”

The princess huffed and gave up on him. “Ugh, if I see one more bleeding cut, I’m going to throw up!” she insisted.

“Why don’t we switch for a day?” Prince Columbine had always enjoyed assisting the healer when he had the chance. He knew his father would disapprove, but he did not think he would be angry. “Let’s tell the healers and ministers we have father’s approval, and then hope he’s busy all day. Then he won’t notice! He has plans to tour the castle walls with his architects.”

“I love the idea!” And so they switched.

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Fairy Princess Shinobu and the Samurai Rats

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Once upon a time, there was a very angry fairy princess. Her mother was Queen Red Leaf. Her court lived in a Japanese maple beside a small lantern in the Azalea Garden. Her mother was warring with the samurai rats living under the Bridge of Singing Water. She had allied with the Orange Blossom fairies. The fairies of both courts encircled the Wren Palace.

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The Oak Princess

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Cassandra looked out her window at the early morning sunshine dappled by her favorite oak tree. Before school, she asked permission from her dad and then ran outside quickly. She looked up at the face in the oak tree. The bark formed eyes, a smiling mouth, and curly hair. She smiled back at her friend in the tree. Some of the leaves were turning orange, and waved in the breeze like thousands of hands.

Yesterday, the rain fell in torrents, and the wind had blown down branches. Acorns had fallen like hail. She had gathered up the acorns to save them from car tires. Except for three, they were all gone from her basket, taken by the neighbors – squirrels and chipmunks. These last three she buried with her shovel in the grassy berm. A beautiful mother oak should be surrounded by her children; Cassandra felt strongly about certain things. When she finished, she waved at the face in the tree, and returned inside. She washed her hands carefully, and got ready for school. Another place to shine.

The next morning, she ran outside again to check on her acorns. As she skipped past her basket, waving at the face in the tree, she noticed something glint at the bottom. She stopped and picked up a golden ring.

“Where did this come from?” Cassandra wondered aloud.

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Hidden Island

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The Scottish village of Arisaig was huddled in close between the church and the harbor. Looking out past the ferry dock, islands appeared in and out of the mists that shrouded the Atlantic coastline.

The fairy queen lived lonely on Hidden Island, with only the seals, fish and seagulls for company. Lying on her bed of seaweed, she dreamed of olden days. She remembered when her people danced in the stone circles on the mainland, but long ago she had been exiled by the fairy king. Her heart yearned to see him again. Her husband and king had sent her away because of a terrible misunderstanding. Sometimes, the seals carried small boys to Hidden Island for her, but they always brought them back. This is the story of one of those boys.

Innis was visiting Scotland for the first time with his mother, whose people had left when the lairds ran sheep across their land.

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Princess Celestine

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The old woman spun her silks in moonlight, and in the warp and weft, a story was written. Some believe a person’s story cannot be changed. But restless fingers can pick at the threads, and what was written becomes changed forever. That is what happened to the story the old woman was weaving of the Princess Celestine of Gothmidland, who was favored by the stars, and intended for Prince Elgar the Northman. A thief’s fingers picked at the threads, and her story was changed forever.

One day, the Princess Celestine boarded the ship, Starspun, headed for the shores of Northland. At that moment, the ship’s Captain was off buying barrels of oranges from sunny Spain. A thief cut his purse strings, but missed his money. Captain Ferdinand had cleverly hidden that under his waistband beneath a thick leather belt. Instead the thief made off with his gold astrolabe. The oranges were duly delivered, and the Captain returned to his ship without noticing his loss.

Meanwhile, the first mate had been so busy yelling at the ship’s boy, Leo, to carry the Princess’s bags, and bowing repeatedly to the beautiful princess that he failed to taste the water being siphoned into the tanks below the deck.

Princess Celestine admired the last view of Parvenue Harbor as the ship passed out of the narrow opening into open water, not knowing that she would never reach her destination.

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Dancing in the Fairy Circle

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Mrs. Padget lived down the street from Adelle, and always said hello when Adelle and her brother, Farr, rode by on their bicycles. Adelle and Farr were 7 and 8 years old, and Mrs. Padget was older than their grandmother. One day, Mrs. Padget was out planting begonias. She called: “Adelle!” Adelle stopped her bike. “Adelle, never fall asleep in a fairy circle!” Adelle was so surprised that at first she didn’t know what to say.

“What’s a fairy circle?” Adelle asked. Mrs. Padget just shook her head and repeated: “Never fall asleep by the Misty Lake hillside or you might find out.” Adelle’s brother rode by. She told him about the warning, but he said Mrs. Padget was just trying to scare her, and she shouldn’t worry about it. Misty Lake was just up the street from their house, and they often rode their bikes there to picnic or swim. Adelle looked many times that summer, but she never saw any fairies.

Adelle and Farr played with their friends during the long, hot days. One day, a group of them picnicked beside the hill and watched swallows flying over Misty Lake. The lake was mistier as the sun set. Adelle’s eyes felt heavy, and she nodded off on the picnic blanket, which was in the shade of a thick oak tree. She did not notice the red circle in the grass. Soon she was surrounded by fairies, their wings shining. Soft clothing floating as they danced. They were the most beautiful creatures Adelle had ever seen with sparking eyes and long, slender limbs. She got up and danced with them. She did not feel tired, she did not feel hungry, and she did not feel thirsty. She danced on and on.

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