Fae Flash Fiction: Banga

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Banga was looking for a place to hide. The Boggle, Fandang, had surprised him and his baby sister splashing in Trickle Brook. His sister, Ruby, had hid in the lee of a granite boulder. Banga darted below the waves in his fish shape, drawing the Boggle away from his sister, and the much bigger Boggle almost caught him in his fingers, which were like a tangled net.

Banga flipped up onto shore, and then changed in a flash to his elven shape. He ran as fast as he could toward the trees. The Boggle’s hairy feet thumped behind him, accompanied by the bing bang whack of his thick Boggle stick. A nearby sycamore looked young, but maybe old enough to be a bit hollow. Fandang was close behind him, and Banga could smell his hot, sour breath. The sycamore’s camouflage bark might confuse Fandang’s bad Boggle eyesight. Banga swarmed up it.

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Sure enough, Banga found a hollow, in the crook of the thickest branch. No leaves had broken from their buds yet to provide cover. He hid in the dark nook, holding his breath. He heard Fandang stomping around in last fall’s leaves. Boggles like to catch Dolphinis, but Banga was practiced at getting away. Dolphinis were the smallest of the Merfolk and the only ones to live in freshwater. Like their larger cousins, the Sea Merfolk, they could grant wished. Boggles always had plenty of wishes, many of which would cause Dophinis no end of trouble granting.

He held his sweet breath, afraid the scent would lead the Boggle straight to him, until Fandang’s last bing bang whack of his Boggle stick faded into the distance. Then Banga zipped back to his baby sister, Ruby, the youngest Dolphini of Trickle Brook, where she was pretending to be a tigerfish, leaping out of the water and eating mosquitoes. They would both be safe another day.

brook in early spring

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

References: http://www.nycgovparks.org/news/daily-plant?id=19242

Butterfly Beatitudes #10

Pat gives us a taste of summer in our cold, New England spring, with her Butterfly song. Hope you have a moment to visit her, if you don’t know Source of Inspiration. Thanks, Pat, for all you do to bring beauty into our lives. I’m dreaming summer breezes tonight. Warmly, Brenda

Pat Cegan's avatarSource of Inspiration

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Dreaming in Cherry Blossoms

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Rain patters on the roof,
While the cardinal calls:
“Birdie, birdie, birdie, birdie.”
My eyes drift closed, heavy
With disappointment at the cold,
Wet spring and the absent sun.

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Azaleas flame in raspberry bursts.
The weeping cherry cries amber tears
Of swollen pollen from pale pink blossoms,
Sunshine heats the wet sidewalk,
And it breathes steamy sighs.
A mist curls up toward the blossoms.

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In my dream, my two arms multiply,
Turning to wings, to feathers, to thin limbs:
To an infant, a new weeping cherry.
My long arms tremble in air currents.
The cardinal lands on my highest shoulder
Calling “Birdie, birdie,” red crest proud.

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I hear again the sound of the rain,
My dry roots yearn toward the nectar
Shared by clouds, whispering of oceans.
I awake stretching my legs,
Moving freely, but stiff and cold;
Blossoms, an afterimage, on my closed eyes.

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: Inspired by Michelle Marie, who was longing to see cherry blossoms.
These photographs are from last spring.

Fairy Tale Clerihew

Shadows of Grass

The first of Three Little Pigs
distained using twigs
and built from straw.
Big Bad Wolf laughed when he saw.

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Inspired by Paint the World with Words weekly poetry prompt, a Clerihew, which is a 4-line rhyming poem, aabb, generally about a famous person introduced in the first line. Here are two famous Clerihew by the originator of the form, Edmund Clerihew Bentley:

Said Sir Christopher Wren
 I`m having lunch with some men,
If anyone calls,
Say I`m designing St Paul`s.

The digestion of Milton
Was unequal to Stilton.
He was only feeling so-so,
When he wrote Il Penseroso.

 

References:
http://www.poetrysoup.com/poems/clerihew
http://www.wattpad.com/31546636-the-who’s-who-of-clerihew-85-porky-pig

Still Life with Lichen

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lost pinecone beds down on pine needles, ignored by lichen and moss

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Note: This is an American Sentence Haiku.
To see my others, they are: Silent Bathhouse and Trumpets Sounding.

April Fool’s Day by Kenn Nesbitt

Statue school girl

I found a hilarious poem on allaboutmanners website, but the post was deleted. Here is a stanza and a link to the whole poem (5 stanzas) you can follow and read it elsewhere, if you like:

April Fool’s Day
by Kenn Nesbitt

Mackenzie put a whoopie cushion
on the teacher’s chair.
Makayla told the teacher
that a bug was in her hair.

To continue reading, click here.

allaboutmanners's avatarallaboutmanners

Mackenzie put a whoopie cushion
on the teacher’s chair.
Makayla told the teacher
that a bug was in her hair.

Alyssa brought an apple
with a purple gummy worm
and gave it to the teacher
just to see if she would squirm.

Elijah left a piece of plastic
dog doo on the floor,
and Vincent put some plastic vomit
in the teacher’s drawer.

Amanda put a goldfish
in the teacher’s drinking glass.
These April Fool’s Day pranks
are ones that you could use in class.

Before you go and try them, though,
there’s something I should mention:
The teacher wasn’t fooling
when she put us in detention.

–Kenn Nesbitt

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Sparkles in Nature

Sparkles on the ocean are magical indeed. Here is a great magical pairing of photo and quote from our friend, White Rabbit’s Gallery. I hope you enjoy! Warmly, Brenda

The Red String

By Anja at Oh Pithy Me

By Anja at Oh Pithy Me

As Megan wove sprigs of lilac into Bella’s black hair and then pinned her veil in place, she asked: “Bella, remember the witch and the red string?”

Bella was hooking pearls into her ears, but she stopped for a moment as memory overtook her. Megan and she had been friends their whole lives. One spring day, Megan’s mom had bribed Megan’s big brother, Stefan, to take the girls to the ice cream parlor. They passed the witch’s house on the way.

Peeling paint and rotted gutters had festooned the ancient Victorian behind the low juniper hedge, and all the neighborhood children believed a witch lived there. The three had stopped and looked up, Megan with a delicious shiver. Crows flew out of a nest by the chimney, cawing loudly.

“I dare you to go ring the bell,” Megan liked baiting her older brother, Stefan, to do things that got him in trouble.

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Fae Flash Fiction: Catkin

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Early one spring, a wood elf named Jake darted here and there with warming sparkles. He nearly got caught by two humans and a beagle. The beagle spotted him, gave chase and barked. Jake flew up into a tall shrub.

Before the humans even turned their heads, quick as a wink, he swirled his dandelion coat in tight and held to the pussy willow branch. Just another catkin, hiding in plain sight. Which one is the bud and which the wood elf?

Only the beagle knows. Jake wiggled the branch when the humans passed by, and dropped some raindrops onto the waiting beagle’s nose. He hid again, and then peeked at the wagging tail of the beagle, happily walking away, christened by the wood elf. Jake grinned, then merrily went back to warming forsythia buds and catkins.

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham

Mystical Place

Take a brief vacation among the magic in this hidden Florida gem of a garden. Thanks to White Rabbit’s Garden for the great picture and quote from Shakespeare. If you don’t know White Rabbit, you should give it a visit, it’s a magical blog with beauty, wisdom and music. Have a great day! Warmly, Brenda

Fairie Dance

I hope you have a moment to visit High Five and Raspberries, who’s written a fabulous tale for her grandson, Finnegan Owen. I’m related to the Hatfield’s by marriage, but I still honor this magical moment in the day of a McCoy. May you see fairies dancing! Warmly, Brenda

Fae Flash Fiction: Equinox

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Silka dreamed in yellow. Daffodil dreams of spring, warm breezes blowing citron pollen. Leaves unfurl in lemon sunshine. She restlessly rolled over, drawing her rose petal duvet higher over one curved hip. Her dream changed to tulips, in a rainbow of color.

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Silka dreamed of the Equinox, and her thoughts startled her awake. She opened her violet eyes.

“Fib!” she called into the quiet of her hydrangea bower.  She heard a scuffling, yawning, and a small bee fairy uncurled from a purple bloom, changing from bee shape to fairy shape as he stretched.  He sat up blinking, wings glittering.

“What’s today, Fib?” Silka called to him, smoothing her butterfly wings and petal skirt.

“Today?” Fib rubbed the grit from his bluebell eyes, then he opened them wide in surprise. “The Equinox!!” Fib shouted with joy. Together, he and Silka flew out into the Outer World.

Still snow as far as the eye could see. A faded hydrangea bloom, like a fragile four leaf clover spun of earth, was the only visible bloom, their hydrangea bower safely behind the veil separating the Fairy World from the Outer World.

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Silka and Fib decided, equinox or no equinox, some more dreaming was in order, and they retreated behind the veil.

If you like, you can read more Fae Flash Fiction here:  Silka (Episode 1).

Copyright 2014 Brenda Davis Harsham