Sunday, 11 September 2011

Tamer Animals

With meaning lost there is little more than emaciated form.
Wandering into a found place that is also lost.

Come and watch the butterflies sing and we shall dance with the dragonflies under an orange haze. We will sip tulip tea and parade in the bountiful garden. The procession will always run to schedule with fantastic vigour. We have been granted knowledge that the real fairies hide by the waterfalls made at riverbank. Sparkling water turns to glitter in the air. We should run to shallower shores to befriend all manner of wonderful beings. Magic leaves a blessed mark on any living soul, after all. Eyes can widen at the sight of such magnificent evenings, flutter in the dusky heat and close in aura of peace. We could sit for hours in this private oasis.

Hiding behind images and twisting the truth, I shook at its core. I bend a life time so far into a shape more manageable to handle. It is cold and empty there. No friendly strangers to lighten your load or broaden your mind. Casting my spell and you would believe it is all part of story time. Sit quietly on the carpet and clutch your cushions tighter. Listen just so that little more carefully, catch me out. We're in the dead garden where life ran from long ago. No fires to kick start rebirth here.

Turn(ed) into a monster.
Can crazy run in the family?


  1. Oh my goodness, Mhairi. This one gave me goosebumps. :) I love, love, love this post. So true, and magical in a way...

  2. You reminded me of the lets-pretend games we used to play in the bush at Purakanui <3 Thank you! Ah childhood, when you can catch a glimpse of the fae but never get close enough to beg them to take you from your parents.

    Crazy does run in families. I'm cursed on both sides from three branches. Why can't we prune the diseased genes from ourselves in the womb, before they bless/curse us with the madness?

    Your posts inspire me. They bring good memories out of hiding and remind me of the particularly delicious short stories the good English teacher found for us.

    Thank you so much for the pattern! :D If they don't make creme eggs next year, I will have to stuff them with home-made fudge whittled into egg shapes. (Migod that will be a test of my patience!)

    *Hugglesqueeze* I wouldn't trade you for all the diamonds in Minecraft. Love you!


  3. I love your writing. Like Peri said, it reminds me of something mystical and whimsical and childhood-ish.

  4. I think crazy does run in the family? But it's not necessarily bad crazy. Maybe it's just a sense of perspective?

    Fickle Cattle

  5. I love you.
    I love this, and every little piece of scrumptious writing you give us.
    Hold my hand?
    I think we could be best friends.


Thank you for your words.