Skip to main content

To Blue Fields Far Below

 Sharing with The Sunday Muse #228, The Fashionable Twenties. 


A sycamore fairy sits crosslegged in the road
Dragons swim toward smooth hills above the storms
Vines embrace the telephone poles 
Someone washed the blue skies and she knows 
It's time to dare the salty foam
It's time to wade through the eternal fields' folds
And gather golden apples for home. 

Hoping this finds you with space to daydream and a good book in which to wander. Working on turning last week's prompt into a longer piece, as I found myself intrigued by the idea of tea in the garden as combat. Social situations are not my forte. As it's still Spider September, there will be a chihuahua-sized jumping spider that is none too happy about anything but hunting squirrels (that's for you, Mom). 

-- Chrissa

Comments

  1. There is a lovely sense of hope and future days in this my friend! It has such a dreamy feel and it makes me yearn to gather golden apples, hope, and all the wonderful poetry.

    ReplyDelete
  2. This is a vivid, lovely fairy tale of a poem. I love the notion of someone having washed the sky.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I hadn't know of the dangerous jumping spider. Those golden apples clinched the read.
    ..

    ReplyDelete
  4. "to dare the salty foam"
    nice image for the prompt

    Happy Sunday

    much 💛love

    ReplyDelete
  5. I love that you named her "Sycamore" .. each and every fairy deserves a name.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Once Upon a Future Past

  Sharing with The Sunday Muse #204 . It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening ran behind me dragons, demons, and the sleeping world; afraid to turn, to wake me. Power needs its horror stories, its ghosts. It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening followed close; a fantasy of goodness, where the gold is always covering bones. Power needs its fairy tales, its witches. It's too far in the afternoon, I thought but evening treads my hem, like an army from the dragon's teeth and all the lies therein. -- Chrissa

On Bad Days

  Sharing with The Sunday Muse #186 . Sorry. Probably best to skip this one. On bad days I argue with the void: it is empty; I call it full of nothing made pathological; therefore it obsesses to possess mass, to be something arguing with the universe but shouting in the mirror black as starlit backdrop, as stars that fall deeper and deeper into time until they  drag everything into the void and are empty, wrung out of needing to have an argument and then we look at each other, deep in the black fallen forever of our gaze.  I wasn't going to post this week. But that probably doesn't matter...because here is a post. This has been a weird week and, in the midst of much more important things, my NaNo project just [temporarily] self-destructed. There will be a return to that project and I'm already sharpening the knives for it. Just need to let a little off-topic anger abate so that everyone doesn't get flamethrowers and a crazy 80's soundtrack. AAAAAAAAEEEEEIIIIIIIIIII!...

Fearsome by Survival

  Sharing today with T he Sunday Muse #189 , where Shay is hosting. Come and read and share a piece! On a web-white, wool-quiet morning I found the girl our stories gave us The one who survived She wore the meadow, carded and sewn Long since burned for field Still, she knew me Her stories named me fierce, feral She might have feared  The one who devours Neither of us spoke, patient at morning Breath, warmth, silence Innocent of power We know the stories kill us both We know that we become Fearsome by survival Hello and welcome. It's 67 degrees outside this morning and a warm December weekend might seem like the kind of thing that would prevent me from following through on a plan to hibernate with a good book for the rest of the weekend...but it's the doomscrolling that's run down the charge on my phone that's preventing me from doing that. Also, I may have developed an intolerance to long stretches of quiet during the past year and a half.  Anyway. Looking forward to r...