#merry berry fairy

[holybibly]

this is such a weird scenario ..but imagine a little red riding hood concept, the big bad wolf being san, and him tricking innocent reader into "playing" with him and just fucking her dumb in the woods !!

God baby, I love the Little Red Riding Hood concept. I'm such a slut for it, to be honest. I'm a little obsessed with dark, twisted gothic fairy tales.

You should have heeded the warnings before you wandered alone through the woods on a full moon night. Or where you're meeting a big, handsome and very mean wolf from whose clutches you won't easily escape and maybe that's exactly what you want.

Warning: Dub-con, Werewolf! San

The night air was unpleasantly cold against your bare skin, ripping you from the sweet embrace of Morpheus. You reluctantly shivered and slowly opened your eyes, only to be greeted by the dense darkness of the forest. The sudden lack of sunlight jolted you from your half-sleep state, sending an unpleasant shiver down your spine and your heart pounding loudly in your chest as the forest around you continued to sing the song of the night. 

You shouldn't be out here, especially at such a late hour. You hurriedly gathered your belongings and cursed yourself for letting the beautiful meadow of flowers enchant you and for letting your guard down. You had been warned that ancient magic lived in these woods and that you should be very careful when you walked along the path through them, but of course you hadn't listened, and now you regretted it. You had always assumed that all these warnings had been given because of your gender. Most of the people in your small town were still stuck in the Dark Ages, thinking that a girl couldn't go through the forest alone. You wanted to prove them wrong. 

Another cold gust blew across the clearing, and you wrapped yourself tighter in your heavy cape. The velvet fabric was expensive and luxurious, a rich scarlet that earned you your nickname, Little Red Riding Hood. 

You were sure that you were going to be all right. You were smart and savvy, and you had a hunting knife with you. You'd think that would be more than enough to handle anything that might be lurking in these woods and get you back to your grandmother's house unharmed. At least that is what you thought. 

A long, blood-curdling howl echoed across the clearing, freezing you in place and halting your frantic gathering. Dear Lord...

Your eyes automatically rise to the night sky, only to find your worst fears confirmed: Through the dry, tangled branches of the trees, the brilliant face of the full moon illuminates the earth with its diffuse silvery glow. The words of your grandmother, which she had been repeating to you ever since you were a child, came to your mind at once: "Beware of the moon, whose face is full and merry, my child, for this is the time when its children have their feast. And their hunger is insatiable and greedy'. Another howl pierced your heart, a reminder of the situation you were now in. 

Wishing that you had listened to the warnings, you ran, clutching your beautiful wicker basket tightly with your hands as your scarlet cape evolved behind your back. You weren't sure of the right way as you ran through the dense thicket of the forest. You sobbed softly as the sharp branches of bushes and trees dug into your skin, leaving long, lacerating marks; the warm, crimson liquid running down your thighs, soaking into the fabric of your tall, white socks, spreading the seductive scent of your blood through the forest. 

Nothing seemed to be familiar to you in the thick, impenetrable darkness of the night. You stumbled through the massive roots of the trees and almost fell into a thorny bush with heavy, glistening bunches of poisonous berries hanging from it. You're so tired already—you can hear your heart pounding in your chest through your laboured, hoarse breathing.

Another furious growl echoing through the air keeps you from stopping, forcing you to keep running. You could almost feel the hot, wet breath of the wolf on your neck and the sharp claws on your skin, and it seemed to you that if you stopped for even a moment, the wolf would tear you to pieces. The hair stood up on the back of your arms, and the image of the sharp-toothed monster pinning you to the ground filled your mind's eye. No. No. No. You shake your head, hoping to banish the dark thoughts and push away the horrible images of blood and broken bones. 

A sharp pain blossomed on your face as you fell face first, stumbling over a large dried log and almost losing consciousness from the combined sensations. It was horrible—your mouth was full of dirt mixed with blood from a busted lip, your knees were skinned and bleeding, and in general you want nothing but sobbing with despair and fear. 

The hopelessness of your situation was more palpable to you now, when you're sitting in a pile of dirt and leaves, than ever before. A deep and low howling sounded from behind you, sending a shiver of cold down your spine. It made you jump to your feet, in spite of the sharp pain that you felt at such a sudden movement. You looked around anxiously. You glanced around anxiously, letting out a small sigh of relief at the fact that there was no one in your wake. But you didn't stop, the edge of the forest was already in sight, the soft welcoming light of the nearby village's lanterns calling to you. 

Your relief was short-lived, however, as a warning growl suddenly sounded directly in front of you, a pair of sacred silver eyes glaring out from the shadows of the forest. You gasped loudly as a tall, broad-shouldered fellow emerged from the thicket, his plump scarlet lips raised in a snarl, tongue slowly sliding over sharp teeth as he began circling you. 

This was not good, so damned not good. Cold fear gripped your heart with a tight grip, your hands clutching your basket tightly, shaking slightly at the low rumbling growl that came from the guy. Your frightened, wide-eyed gaze darted from the wolf to the forest path leading to the village; if you tried hard enough, you could get away from him. The boy noticed your gaze and shifted his sharp eyes to the narrow path leading out of the forest. He snorted slightly, as if the thought of you running from him amused him.

"You shouldn't even try, sweetheart. You can't escape me, little Red." The man's husky, deep voice made you flinch, but the way he addressed you by name as if he knew you made you drop the basket and cover your mouth with your hand to hold back your terror-filled scream."

He turned to face you again, and you could see his lips curl up in a predatory grin, revealing deep dimples on his cheeks. You couldn't help but notice how beautiful the wolf was—perhaps the most handsome man you had ever seen—and that fact made you fear him even more. Nothing ordinary and natural could possess such breathtaking beauty, which meant that the guy in front of you was many times more dangerous than any real wolf prowling around this forest thicket that night.

"Why are you so scared, little Red?" He slid his tongue over his lips as he kept his dark gaze on you. "I can almost feel your fear on my tongue." He murmured, the deep sound practically vibrating in the air. "I just want to play with you, beautiful. I promise I won't bite you... hard." His voice trailed off at the last word, his breathing getting heavier as he began to slowly approach you. 

You began to back away from him, trying to put as much distance between you as possible, and he clearly didn't like it. 

"You're not running away from me..." He growled, and those were the last coherent words you heard before he pounced on you, digging his claws into your skin and tearing at the edges of your cloak and skirt that prevented him from reaching you. The loud sounds of tearing cloth echoed through the forest as you tried to grab onto anything that might help you crawl away from him. 

"You'll have no run from me..." He growled, and those were the last coherent words you heard before he pounced on you, his claws digging into your skin and tearing at the edges of your cloak and skirt that were blocking his path. The loud sounds of ripping cloth echoed through the forest, and you tried to grab hold of anything that might help you to crawl away from him. 

"No. Please, no. Let me go, please...". But your words fell on deaf ears. In one swift motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, and you squealed loudly. Limiting all movement, his broad hand pressed between your shoulder blades. "No!" You cried out again, but a sharp slap on your bottom, which was suddenly bare, made you stop all your movements. You didn't even notice it as he tore off your clothes completely, leaving you vulnerable and naked for him to see. "I-I... please let me go..." All your energy has left your body, and you sob softly. He lifts your hips with one hand and puts you in the position he wants you to be in. 

"You were warned, little Red. Weren't you? You have been told to stay out of the woods, especially during the full moon. But have a look at where you are now. A stupid little girl, too self-confident to listen to anyone's advice, and that's what girls like you get. A big, bad wolf will eat them alive." The last sentence came out of his chest in a low, vicious growl before you felt a hot, slippery tongue travel between your buttocks. 

The pointed tip slid between your labia, salivating over your tender folds. He removed his hand from your back only to dig his fingers into your buttocks and spread them wide apart, holding you completely open for him so that he could feast on your cunt with ease. Pitiful sobs escaped from your mouth as you felt his rough, long appendage snaking its way between your folds, rubbing against your clit and poking at your hole as it tried to force its way in. His claws dug themselves into your flesh in painful fashion, leaving bloody marks that were sure to become scars. 

The sensation of the wolf's tongue licking desperately at your cunt and the wet, feverish breath that washed over your sensitive centre caused your body to react against your desire.

A shameless moan of pure pleasure escaped your lips faster than you could stop it. Covering your mouth with your hand, you tried to swallow the embarrassing sounds as the werewolf's long tongue continued to wash your clit with its warm, viscous saliva. You couldn't enjoy it... it was simply impossible. This guy was dangerous; he wasn't human; he was a horrible, hungry wolf pinning you to the ground in the middle of the night forest. You were terrified, but that didn't stop your body from responding joyfully to his touch. 

Every movement of his tongue on your pussy made your hole clench around nothing and ooze juices. This only excited him more as he greedily licked up every drop of sweet slime that flowed from you onto his tongue. Eventually it wasn't enough, and the wolf pressed his whole mouth against your little hole and began to literally drink from your pussy. 

Your hips began to shake as you approached your orgasm. Your fingers dug into the loose soil, dirt collecting under your fingernails as you tried to fight the rush of pleasure coursing through your entire body. It was completely futile. Against your will, the werewolf made you scream in blinding pleasure as the first of many orgasms shook your entire body. 

As your fluids poured into his mouth, giving him a full taste of your sweet flavour, he growled low as he thrust his tongue into your hole and licked your juices from your trembling walls. This went on for a few minutes until you felt his hands leave your body. A vague sense of relief filled you as you hoped he would leave you now that he had got what he wanted. But that relief was quickly replaced by panic as his clawed fingers pinned your fragile shoulders to the ground and his unnaturally hot and massive length rubbed against your arse, staining it with sticky pre-cum. 

He rubbed against you like a dog in heat, his hips pressing against you as if he were too lost in his lust to pay attention.

Hot breath scorched your cheek as he pressed his entire body against you, laborious growls and puffing escaping his throat as his heavy, hard cock dragged between your buttocks. You turned your head slightly to the side to catch a glimpse of the man looming over you, his sharp fangs glinting in the moonlight, and you almost regretted looking.

Every movement he made against you made your stomach twist with a mixture of fear and pleasure, and although the rational part of you was in a state of pure terror at the realisation of what awaited you, on some deep subconscious, twisted level you enjoyed it.

The werewolf's cock seemed almost as long as your torso, there was no way you could take it all in. But that didn't seem to bother him tonight. As the head of his cock entered your hole, you sobbed from the painful stretching and squeezed your eyes shut as he began to push his cock deeper into you. It was thick, so fucking thick that the tender edge of your pussy burned when the entire head of his cock was inside, but that was only the beginning.

The first few inches were enough to awaken your senses, pleasantly stimulating your quivering walls, but as he pushed further into you, the pain came. But that didn't matter to the werewolf on top of you. You whimpered and shook your head from side to side as the man above you moaned deeply as he continued to thrust his cock relentlessly into you.

"Please…" You sobbed openly now, hoping this would be over quickly.

"Mmm, look at you, you're acting so nice now. You were warned, little Red, but you decided to be a naughty girl and came to the wolf yourself, knowing full well what would happen to you. So don't play hard to get and take what is given to you." The wolf towering over you growled in your ears.

The more it pressed into your body, the more you became afraid and grabbed at tree roots and plants. For anything within reach that might help you free yourself from him. Your face crinkled in pain and your teeth clenched tightly together, grinding against each other. When it finally settled into your body, you'd never felt so full. You couldn't see it, but you could feel the great bulge in your belly, perfectly mirroring the contours of his cock.

When he begins to move, pulling his monstrous length out of you, you find it strange. His cock entered you much deeper than it could be possibly, and when it was completely out of you, you felt so empty, your cunt clenched around nothing, already missing the warmth of his cock. When he entered your cunt again, you let out a sound mixed with eroticism and a painful cry. It wasn't bad, but not necessarily good. His cock seemed too hot, buried deep inside your body, but every thrust in and out of your pussy rubbed against a sensitive ball of nerves that made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"No! I don't want this! Please stop..." The voice in your head did its best to drown out the sensations overwhelming every other sense in your body, but it was useless. The wolf's large body pressed against your back, his feverishly hot, wet skin rubbing against the exposed areas of your skin that were visible through your tattered cloak with each sharp thrust into your body. 

His rhythm grew rougher and sharper as he stretched the tight confines of your pussy. Promises to fill you with his cum and give you his puppies came in steady succession with each thrust of his hips.

Wide eyed, you watched his fingernails dig into the dirt beside your head and thanked the gods that those nails were no longer digging into your skin. They pulled the earth a few inches away from your face, reminding you of the strength in those hands. He could have easily broken your neck with a snap of his fingers. Instead, he shifted his stance, his foot pressing your face deeper into the dirt beneath you.   You should have been disgusted; it was wrong, but something dark and twisted inside you made you even more aroused, enjoying everything that was happening.

Your quivering, slippery walls tightened around him, and you heard him moan deeply in response.

"You like it, don't you? What a dirty bitch you are, little Red. Do you like it when I claim the rights to your tiny human cunt? Does it turn you on that I'm fucking you like a bitch in the middle of the forest?"

"Please..." Your voice was swallowed by a loud, air-piercing howl as the wolf howled over you in pleasure. 

Your entire body shook beneath him as he fucked you with reckless abandon, his hips slamming painfully against your arse, causing the tender skin on your buttocks to become irritated and red. It was disgusting; you had dirt in your mouth mixed with blood from the previous fall, your whole body aching from his assault, but you wanted more; you wanted him to destroy you. 

Something hot and tight pushed into your entrance, and you almost mistook this sudden invasion for his balls until you felt your pussy being forced to stretch even further to accommodate it.

"Please, no! You're going to hurt me!!! Don't do this!" Pleasure was replaced by pure terror as you tried to crawl away from him. Sharp nails pierced the skin of your thighs as he clawed at you and growled in warning, making you freeze. 

"Take this! You're going to take all of me, and you're going to love it, you little slut." Each thrust felt like he was trying to shove a baseball inside you. 

He was determined to complete his task, and when he did, you screamed in pain, tears staining your rounded cheeks and making your face look even dirtier. A loud howl pierced his chest, and his nails dug into your back, drawing blood as he tied you up with his knot and poured his sperm into your waiting body. You could feel every pulse of his cock as it emptied into your pussy, and against your desire, your walls clenched around the invasion, squeezing out all he had to offer you. His warm, viscous cum splashed into your body, making you shiver.

"I hope you've learnt your lesson and won't wander the night woods alone again, little Red." The werewolf whispered hoarsely in your ear, licking the tears from your cheek. 

You turned your head to the side, meeting his slanted silver eyes and gloriously sharp cheekbones. 

"Maybe I should learn that lesson a few more times, San. You know I'm not good at memorising, love."

[pinkanonwrites]

Knightformers AU

Recently I've had SO MANY thoughts about @archie-sunshine 's Knightformers AU, especially once I got my grimy little /reader hands up in there! In wanting to keep my beloved size difference and communication issues tropes, I cobbled together a little concept about fairy readers!

Knightformers fae are very heavily inspired by Celtic mythology around fairies, particularly with them being incredibly mischievous tricksters that can take on many shapes and forms. Large swaths of land between the providences were abandoned during wartimes, and it was incredibly common for the fairy folk to move in with the plant life as it began to grow and overtake the abandoned settlements. Rather than the faewild being exclusively a separate plane like it is in other media, any forested areas that have become heavily lived-in and influenced by the fairies living there start to exhibit faewild-like tendencies, i.e. being notoriously difficult to navigate and warping your perception of the passage of time.

A fairy's magic is most powerful when they are in their home forest or region, with their powers diminishing greatly should they ever be forcefully removed. As such, and because of previous incidents of fairies being captured and manipulated, fairies are very territorial of their homes and are not above turning anyone who poses a threat to their safety into wild plants and berry bushes.

Just like some bots are more interested/better at befriending humans than others, some knights and explorers are more curious about the fae than others! Swerve spends a lot of time trying to befriend the local fairies with varying levels of success, while Cosmos can usually trot his merry way through the depths of the faewild without much issue. Rodimus has a strained relationship with the fae only because he keeps forgetting that pixies don't like to just be up and grabbed and he keeps getting hexed for it.

If anyone has any questions about my thoughts on how specific characters in the Knightformers AU would interact with the fae, please, please, PLEASE do not be afraid to ask! I am so excited about this AU and having a ton of fun with it so I'd love to hear what you guys are wondering about!

[callunavulgaris]

Fairy folk make merry beneath the starlight on a chilled autumn evening. Their heads adorned in home-grown horns, in branches of oak, & ripening autumn berries. Skin the shade of dry earth illuminates a glistening green in the fire light as they juggle and dance. A walnut sprite makes an appearance, as does a prince clothed in the face of a leaf. Masked mummers pounce from the shadows, spooking one another & fleeing beneath the forest canopy which drops a carpet of jewel-like leaves onto the cool, crisp earth.

[ssukidesu]

ready (for a misunderstanding)

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Pairing: Nalu

Rating: T

Summary: Bisca and Alzack have another baby, and Lucy makes a passing comment that turns Natsu's world upside down.

Merry Christmas, @bowscale !!! I’m so glad I could do the gift exchange for you this year!!! I hope you like it ❤️ @allaboutnalu

Read on AO3.

Prologue

Spring had fully waxed in the year X776. The air smelled of caterpillars and pollen, and the river spewed fish every other moment as they searched spiritedly for a mate.

Near the bank, a young boy was lying on his back, his belly full of fish and berries. Bees buzzed around the bones piled on the ground. One might have been alarmed to see a boy so young out alone without a parent. But one certainly would have been alarmed to see a dragon lying not four feet beside him. Both concerns would be soothed, however, with the knowledge that this dragon was, in fact, the young boy’s father.

To his current chagrin.

The dragon king Igneel’s voice rumbled pleasantly in the evening air. “Are you listening, Natsu?”

“Huh?” the boy huffed. “Oh. Yeah, I guess.”

“Then what did I just say?” pressed the dragon patiently.

“Umm… that when I’m ready to have a house, I’ll need a baby?”

“No, Natsu,” Igneel sighed. “You need to listen to me. I know it doesn’t have to do with battle, but it is important nonetheless.”

“Why can’t you just tell me this stuff later? You said I won’t need to worry about it till I’m older, right?”

“Yes, but I wont be around forever. I need to teach you everything now, for when—“ he stopped, correcting himself, “—just in case.”

Natsu sat up and faced his father studiously. “Alright.”

“Good. Now, what I said was that when you’re older and you find a woman you like, you’ll win her heart by proving to her that you can provide. You have to show her that you’ll protect her, and you might even have to fight other men to win her affection. But before you mate, you’ll need to make sure that you have a good home. A nice, strong home that will keep your wife and children safe from harm. Because, Natsu, that’s what happens when you mate: you beget children. That’s why it’s important to not join with a mate until you are both ready for that possibility.”

The child appeared puzzled. “Are you sure that humans do that stuff, too? It sounds more like dragon stuff.”

“My boy, you’ll learn more and more that the lifestyles of dragons and humans are not as different as they seem. And regardless—you may be human in body and mind, but you have the soul of a dragon. You’re my son.”

Natsu barreled towards Igneel to nuzzle his arm. “That’s right, I am!” he cheered. “And I don’t care what you say about the future—we’ll always be together. You’ll see.”

The dragon smiled. “Yes, we will. I guarantee it.”

Read the rest on AO3.

[kvetchlandia]

Bill Brandt     Poet Dylan Thomas at the Salisbury Pub, London     1941

I

I see the boys of summer in their ruin Lay the gold tithings barren, Setting no store by harvest, freeze the soils; There in their heat the winter floods Of frozen loves they fetch their girls, And drown the cargoed apples in their tides.

These boys of light are curdlers in their folly, Sour the boiling honey; The jacks of frost they finger in the hives; There in the sun the frigid threads Of doubt and dark they feed their nerves; The signal moon is zero in their voids.

I see the summer children in their mothers Split up the brawned womb's weathers, Divide the night and day with fairy thumbs; There in the deep with quartered shades Of sun and moon they paint their dams As sunlight paints the shelling of their heads.

I see that from these boys shall men of nothing Stature by seedy shifting, Or lame the air with leaping from its heats; There from their hearts the dogdayed pulse Of love and light bursts in their throats. O see the pulse of summer in the ice. II

But seasons must be challenged or they totter Into a chiming quarter Where, punctual as death, we ring the stars; There, in his night, the black-tongued bells The sleepy man of winter pulls, Nor blows back moon-and-midnight as she blows.

We are the dark derniers let us summon Death from a summer woman, A muscling life from lovers in their cramp From the fair dead who flush the sea The bright-eyed worm on Davy's lamp And from the planted womb the man of straw.

We summer boys in this four-winded spinning, Green of the seaweeds' iron, Hold up the noisy sea and drop her birds, Pick the world's ball of wave and froth To choke the deserts with her tides, And comb the county gardens for a wreath.

In spring we cross our foreheads with the holly, Heigh ho the blood and berry, And nail the merry squires to the trees; Here love's damp muscle dries and dies Here break a kiss in no love's quarry, O see the poles of promise in the boys. III

I see you boys of summer in your ruin. Man in his maggot's barren. And boys are full and foreign to the pouch. I am the man your father was. We are the sons of flint and pitch. O see the poles are kissing as they cross.

-- Dylan Thomas, “I See the Boys of Summer”  1934

[prohaloplayer]

gnome and fairy not so scary

rather merry, light to carry

missed the ferry? don't be wary

grab a berry, share with Jerry

beard so hairy, eyes quite glary

drunk off cherry, asked to marry

[letsspringintoaction]

Fairy Mourning

"Please, lets all have a moment of silence for Merry Berry. As she has been struck down by a terrible case of S.M.E.F."

"Before her passing she said her final words of "please take the cake out of the oven." We'll figure out what she meant when we see her tomorrow."

[foxglove-the-never-fairy]

Fairy Names Pt. 2

Fly with you! It’s been a while hasn’t it? Anyway, I’m here for a second part of one of my most popular posts.

The first post listed fairy names that were used in the DS game “Tinker Bell and the Great Fairy Rescue” in the create-a-fairy section of the game. While the names provided were feminine, I have pulled all of the masculine fairy names from the original Pixie Hollow game. Some names are repeats from the original post, but I kept them in as I wanted to get this out as soon as possible. I hope you enjoy. Here’s the original post.

~🧚🏻‍♀️🔥 Foxglove 

First

Aaron

Ace

Acorn

Agate

Ajay

Alabaster

Alder

Alec

Aleron

Alex

Anchor

Andrew

Archer

Axel

Badger

Bailey

Baker

Bale

Banjo

Barclay

Basil

Benjy

Bert

Bevel

Birch

Bo

Boomer

Boone

Brock

Bruce

Brynn

Buddy

Burr

Burton

Buster

Calder

Casper

Cecil

Cedar

Chance

Chase

Chip

Clay

Cliff

Coal

Cog

Comet

Cosmo

Cote

Covey

Crag

Crane

Cyan

Dale

Dane

Darius

Darrin

Dawson

Decker

Deon

Devlin

Dewey

Donner

Drake

Dug

Dunn

Dustin

Dusty

Echo

Eddy

Edward

Elk

Emery

Erik

Ernie

Errol

Fennel

Fincher

Finn

Fir

Flint

Ford

Francis

Garnet

Glen

Gourd

Gourdie

Grove

Grub

Gull

Hale

Hare

Harris

Hawk

Henry

Heron

Hob

Jacob

James

Jasper

Jay

Kernal

Koto

Lance

Lark

Leaf

Lore

Lute

Lyric

Martin

Maze

Mica

Michal

Nadir

Nester

Oak

Ollie

Onyx

Otter

Peat

Pier

Pine

Quake

Quarry

Quinn

Rain

Ranger

Reed

Richard

River

Robin

Rook

Rusty

Rye

Sage

Sam

Scout

Sean

Seth

Shale

Shoal

Skimmer

Skyler

Spike

Spruce

Sterling

Stone

Tad

Teak

Thatcher

Thistle

Timber

Tiny

Toadstool

Tobey

Todd

Topher

Torn

Torrey

Vail

Valiant

Vern

Vic

Wedge

Wes

Wren

Wynn

Zak

 Middle

Air

Almond

Apple

Aspen

Autumn

Badger

Bark

Beacon

Bear

Bitter

Brave

Bright

Brisk

Broom

Bumble

Candle

Cedar

Chilly

Citrus

Cloud

Cloudy

Clover

Cocoa

Copper

Cricket

Crow

Cub

Dapple

Dash

Day

Drift

Eagle

Elm

Evening

Falcon

Far

Fern

Fig

Fire

Fleet

Flicker

Foggy

Fox

Frost

Frozen

Funny

Garlic

Green

Hail

Hasty

Hawk

Hickory

Holly

Hurry

Ice

Ivy

Jelly

Jumpy

Lemon

Light

Lightning

Lime

Little

Lock

Lotus

Magic

Mango

Maple

Merry

Misty

Moon

Morning

Moss

Mossy

Mountain

Muddy

Never

Nickel

Night

Nimble

Oak

Orange

Otter

Parsley

Pear

Pebble

Pepper

Pine

Plum

Pollen

Pumpkin

Purple

Quick

Rain

Rainy

Rock

Rumble

Sage

Sandy

Sea

Shy

Silk

Slight

Snow

Sour

Speedy

Spider

Spring

Squall

Star

Storm

Stout

Strong

Sugar

Summer

Sun

Swift

Tangle

Thunder

Tiny

Toad

Tumble

Twisty

Water

Whiffle

Wild

Wind

Winter

Wrinkle

 Last

Beam

Bee

Bell

Berry

Breath

Breeze

Bug

Button

Buzz

Chill

Chime

Cliff

Cloud

Clove

Crash

Curl

Dale

Dance

Dash

Dew

Din

Drop

Dust

Ear

Elbow

Eye

Feather

Field

Fig

Flame

Flap

Flash

Fleck

Flight

Flip

Flipper

Fly

Fog

Foot

Forest

Freeze

Fruit

Garden

Gem

Glade

Glimmer

Glow

Gourd

Grace

Griddlee

Gust

Heart

Hill

Hop

Horn

Hush

Jewel

Knee

Lake

Light

Lock

Loop

Lull

Meadow

Mello

Mint

Mist

Moon

Muddle

Muse

Newt

Noise

Nose

Peal

Pebble

Petal

Pin

Plume

Pond

Pool

Ray

Ripple

River

Roar

Root

Row

Ruckus

Rumble

Sand

Shadow

Sky

Smash

Song

Spark

Sparkle

Sparrow

Speck

Spirit

Splash

Spring

Sprite

Sprout

Stem

Stone

Storm

Stream

Stripe

Swamp

Swirls

Thistle

Thorn

Toad

Tree

Twill

Twist

Vale

Valley

Vine

Weather

Web

Whirl

Whisk

Whisper

Willow

Wind

Wing

Wings

Wink

Wish

[banetteapologist]

//a bit early since my schedule's unknown for next few days - no worries on if you just get it early or save responding for whenever works for you :)

heya, you're my secret santa. i'm your secret santa? the latter sounds like it makes more sense 'cause i'm the one gifting and thus the santa but it feels like the former sounds better--- anyway.

[delibird mail! - 1x Shuppet beanie hat - 1x pack of homemade berry cookies with a label: 'Tiny Wreath Cookies' - 2x photos: a baby Poochyena wrapped in a candy cane blanket, and a Beldum tangled in fairy lights]

hope you like them. nickit wouldn't let me take a photo but. you seem pretty cool, might have to talk when i'm out of retail mall santa hell---

Omg hii! Thank you so much for the gifts, you seem pretty cool as well so I’d love to talk once you’re done with .. retail mall Santa hell? 😂

Thank you so much again, I your pokemon look adorable, I would love to see nickit next time it lets you , and the tiny wreath cookies were amazing! Though I didn’t get to try most of them bc SOMEONE ( Charmander-my purrlion- and puppet- my Banette-) has a sweet tooth and ganged up on me 😂

I hope you have a merry Christmas!

[follyglass]

Follyglass : Merry

Our parents warned us not to go beyond where the flint road stops and turns to dirt. They said danger lived there.

When we were little, we listened wide-eyed as they told us about Merry Blackteeth, and how she was always watching for an opportunity to steal children. They said she waited in the still deep of the dark river amidst the shining fishes that we liked so much. They said she lurked in the hedgerows next to the bull pasture. Sometimes, she was even in our very own house, spidered against the sooty walls of the chimney, eager to jump down and snatch any children who got too close to the fire.

Among us children, she became a shorthand for danger: “Merry Blackteeth will get you!” She skurked around our nightmares and we would wake up screaming her name. When the dogs barked vicious at something unseen in the night, we shivered and whispered her name amongst ourselves, sure that it was Merry Blackteeth despite the protests of others that it was only a deer. We were such good children that we located her in places that our parents never dared to mention; in cellars and closets and in the long shadows near the edge of the pines, her limbs ratch-crackit, her boiled-egg eyes staring, clattering her black teeth at us and slurring curses jittered with laughter. Merry was always happy to scare us.

When we became taller than posts, she became a dare. To prove we were brave, we stared into the deep water past the shining fishes. To show we weren’t babies, we stood, waiting – fear and thrill, or what might have been her fingers, intermingling on our backs, on our necks – in the night attic.

Somehow, we survived, and in surviving so many brushes with the creature, we became surer of ourselves. Merry Blackteeth became a line that separated us from the shiver-bone stories of our childhoods. Eventually, someone dared me to walk beyond the flint. I did, while laughing that “Merry Blackteeth stories are for babies.”

When you dare crack the boundary that restrained you, there is an inner plea propelled by the fear that has been a companion since you were small: please let me be right. Please let me be ok.

Each new step I took was accompanied by these thoughts. But beyond the flint, past the hedgerows, and wending through the potholes filled with April bright sky, I found a small but cheerful house. In the side garden there was an old woman who quirked her head at me, but still bid me welcome.

“I’m Mary,” she said, extending the hand that didn’t cup a baby squirrel. I shook it, thinking ‘Merry?’ while she pressed on in her introduction, “Mary Blackheath, nice to meet you.” When she smiled, her teeth were indeed black, which I later learned – but was at that point in possession of the manners to not ask about – was due to her habit of bringing her smallbrush to a fine point by putting it in her mouth. Some of the inks and pigments stained in her teeth.

She tucked the baby squirrel into a pot lined with flannel, wiped her hands, then offered me a biscuit with a curl of butter and honey. I declined politely as I could, the echoes of fairy feasts and being taken ringing in my head.

“Well, then,” she said kindly, “there’s always the cakeberry tree at the gate if you’re hungry.”

My “thank you” came quietly, and I left the garden, rounded the stonewall and hid until I heard Mary’s door close. Confident that I was out of her sight, I shoved handfuls of cake berries in my pockets and ate them all the way home, where I arrived with my lips stained – as my father put it – ‘ghastly red.’

Over the course of weeks, I found reasons and ways to return to the peace and plenty at Mary’s home, but mostly it was to spend five minutes there before the clatter and tremor of suppertime at my own home.

Only the most curious of my friends followed.

Mary spotted them and put out plates of sweet crackers and jars of jewel-colored jam, while saying loud enough to carry over the finches’ chatter that “everyone is welcome here.”

They ate. They met the real Mary. Just like me, they managed to find ways beyond the flint road. Our visits became longer. Our parents didn’t bother to care; after all, we were teenagers and they had properly taught us to stay from danger.

Around her chores, Mary told us stories, while encouraging us to do the same. When we began a prickly shiver-bone tale, she leaned in and asked questions, and through her inquiries our stories would turn soft and warm in our mouths. Fearsome dragons became fascinating spectrums of scale and wing. Lilynymphs called out songs not to mesmerize, but to comfort those whose gaze began to become lost in the dark water.

We didn’t know it, but afterward Mary took down all that we said with her little brush. Only when the pages were filled with her fine script and fantastical creatures dancing amongst the marigolds in the margins did she show the book to us.

It was beautiful; a new world we had made with Mary’s help. The book was nothing like the stories our parents had told us: stories to warn, stories to keep us on the straight path… stories that kept us safe with them.

And so it was that instead of being fearful of the world outside our village, we became curious and welcoming. With our gentle new courage, we stepped beyond the borders of the flint roads and out into the world. When we were older, we were humbled and ashamed to have ascribed such monstrous qualities to Mary.

Mary told us the truth. Not just about the world outside, but about ourselves, too. In a way, I suppose our parents were right. Merry Blackteeth did steal their children.

......................................................

Thank you so much for reading.

This is Follyglass' 200th stand-alone piece. Most little tales here are cozy fantasy, some are New England based, a few are horror.... nearly all are flash fiction.

To begin at the beginning, start here at Cake.

[bitbc-incorrect-quotes-archive]

Berry in the Big City Music Facts!

Some random trivia about the songs in BitBC that I learned about. continued under the cut.

1. There have been 28 episodes that feature the characters singing, but only 22 are musical episodes.

The 22 musical episodes are:

2 Strawberry Shortcake songs -No Ordinary Berry -Berry Perfect Kind of Day Part 1

3 duets between Strawberry and another berry -Lucky Berry (with Orange) -Bake-Off Part 2 (with Raspberry) -Meet Huckleberry Pie (Huckleberry Pie)

1 Orange Blossom song -Superberry

2 Lime Chiffon songs -Be Your Berry Best -Any Way You Slice It

6 group songs -Beat the Heat -Music In Our Hearts -Let The Good Times Roll -Crabapple Jam Part 2 -A Splash of Fun -Turn Things Around

4 holiday songs -Fright Fall -Berry Merry Melody -Scary-oke -The Magic is You

2 Aunt Praline songs -Berry Bounty Banquet Part 1 -Bad Day Blues

1 Purple Pieman song -Peculiar Purple Partner Part 1

1 Cherry Jam song -Find Your Voice

The 6 non-musical episodes that feature singing in any capacity are:

Berry in the Big City Part 1 (Strawberry Shortcake briefly sings "No Ordinary Berry" before being interrupted by Aunt Praline)

New Year's Wish (Raspberry Tart sings a variation of "No Ordinary Berry" before realizing Strawberry heard her)

Keylime Time (Huckleberry Pie sings part of an unknown song to some coffee beans before Strawberry interrupts him)

Huck's New Job (Bread Pudding and Huck briefly sing "Contrary Berry" at the end)

Best New Year's EVER (Orange Blossom sings part of "Contrary Berry")

Sweet and Sour (Sour Grapes sings part of an unknown song before being interrupted by Strawberry)

While Meet Huckleberry Pie and Music in Our Hearts also briefly feature "Lost Little Berry" sung by Huckleberry, these examples are not counted as Huck sings a full song in the same episodes.

2. Lost Little Berry, Contrary Berry, Raspberry's New Year's song, Huck's coffee bean song, and Sour's song are the only songs in BitBC to never be heard in full.

3. Of the 8 main characters, Lemon Meringue, Blueberry Muffin, Bread Pudding, and Sour Grapes are the only main characters who have not received a musical episode that focuses on them. So far, they have only sung in group songs.

4. Bread Pudding is the only main character who has NEVER been heard singing without another berry accompanying him. Berry Merry Melody, Huck's New Job, Beat The Heat, Let The Good Times Roll, Scary-Oke, Sweet Victory, A Splash of Fun, and Turn Things Around all have him sing as part of an ensemble or in a duet with someone else (usually Huckleberry)

5. This is a bar graph comparing each character and the number of episodes they've sung in (as of Turn Things Around).

As you can see, Strawberry has sung the most at 22 times, while Sour Grapes has the lowest at 7.

6. Huckleberry Pie is the only main character whose debut is also a musical episode.

7. Purple Pieman, Aunt Praline, and the Berry Fairies are the only non-main characters to receive music episodes, being villain, supporting, and minor characters respectively.

Aunt Praline has 2 full songs (Berry Bounty Banquet Part 1 and Bad Day Blues)

Purple Pieman technically has 2 songs, but his second is the intentionally bad rap he had in Hot, Fresh, and Trending, which was not a music episode

The Berry Fairies also technically have 2 songs, Find Your Voice and Contrary Berry (which is stated to be theirs by Orange Blossom in Best New Year's EVER), however, none of the Fairies have ever been heard singing the latter song.

8. Sherry Bobbleberry, despite being the Berry Fairies' (former) lead singer, is the only member of the band who did not sing at any point. Ironic, ain't it?

9. The episodes where each character first sings are:

Strawberry Shortcake: Berry in the Big City Part 1 (first song), No Ordinary Berry (first musical episode)

Orange Blossom: Fright Fall

Lemon Meringue: Fright Fall

Lime Chiffon: Fright Fall

Blueberry Muffin: Fright Fall

Raspberry Tart: Berry Merry Melody, New Year's Wish (solo voice)

Huckleberry Pie: Meet Huckleberry Pie

Bread Pudding: Berry Merry Melody

Sour Grapes: Berry Merry Melody, Beat The Heat (solo voice)

10. The only musical episode where only one berry sings is Peculiar Purple Partner Part 1, as Purple Pieman is the lone singer for the entire song. Every other song in Berry in the Big City is an ensemble, a duet, or a solo with backup/additional singers.

[libidomechanica]

Though no tear flowd from thee, and distress more,— falsehood accurst

A Meredith sonnet sequence

                —First of wrong your subjects the birds of horror   stood, brown with curses struck through wise men   are heave my heart is whirl’d into her from winter sleep, he is trying to a point you a debt, that winter with your face sharpens   and with weaknesse offerd, Strength to breede. Love’s   anger likeness out; laid it barefaced at the white, red is the threw his horse’s ear and distant, burns they keep that nimble   leap to kiss on the swore, and Crabbe will   have no place. Where I had, and they, not to move so alike, that the end of her as the soul in songs, the king would you hear his   tomb a feast shone, silver sickle of things   matter to gie ane fash. Though no tear flow’d from thee, and distress more,—falsehood accurst!

                To take: for having that brings content is   in the baldness of my gentle, so employ   all arts to the water the man of man, the listen to a long lives like rain, will work even within thine own, now reduced,   as is the lily, breathe upon the   sun hotter than all his voice, we cried; and most miserable, how shoulder, who grew less the stem but it is winter. Are thee, as   deare Stellas imaged back from Him—by   Him directed and fiddle. Give rest, who kept the fairy guest to be fed. But she poore soule by cunning. Of poison-flowers,   a faintly clammy day, I admit no   shape so true, begin that the end, a song to battle-field is universal law.

                If not to free and break on vain Philosophers   have said to the Hall and claim the   body, but never she denies; shee, lightning— for his request she glimmers to her mine I knew her skill how dear I have drawn   much less massy of his nose, rush’d where he   hunter’s tale? With the jaundiced eye; eye, to which begat distinct in innocence and takes a laden breast bo-peepe or crouching   of the measure: and by love’s despite the   proffered all naked, will dark, when angels do rest, did I let my passion have I not render throws his hand crush’d eager early   woke to feed her turned out of losing   your ends promove: for this moorland hill. And Paris changing door and I will not set.

                Which, if possible and crammed the mad Past,   on which state comes the tug of war; ’—’t will   make a shift, my last hour is not though he deny it. Bringing and fresh as a rose in point me out some hundreds dead in iron   gauntlets: break it shall have heart of the   pelf with those who long hath the fruit of one so young? Makes father sent a message to and fro with blinder mountains spouted blossomed   Muses’ lovely and man, where he was   there needed to inquired of her that wrong. And found thy famine fat with laughter’d men, a yet was homeless, houseless, helpless   sight, if in my mouth doth water, and   they are, nor Lawes, although the trees watch. Angel, but a voice will hope and bright of love.

                Blot out the jingling waters shall not beg   a place, that and I, bluebirds and come with   a ring at their heap’d carcasses, o’er whom thy fingers. To deem the weak rib by a fatal shaft struck at his brain and out of   dusky groves and left a trampled orphan   went wronged love shall have now had sketches of nations all those hearts beating every clime and the meadows sear! Is a frightening thousand   heaven broods on his gold complexion   dimm’d; but fire, the beds, and full of counsel had misled the knight have lied. Doth itch, my though the glacis. And are heavenly fair,   and the body, but I would curdled in   that liuing died; and this is my son. All fleet of bitter bark and built upon the light.

                To be so no more than in the Name of   God to get into his misspelled through; a   woman is not undevelopt man, but like each tie that same fruit o’ mony a merry comrades;—then juan consented Maid!   But what we might berries and rich. And cold,   and on the bitter fruit? The Great from an humble verse doth call this children near, touch’d with her, read them bristling the sire to   find, as in a way you’ll be back on 100K   a week and comes a vapour, and trembles through my lover’s Language; and wind is of the inveterate foe—he hew’d away,   for to state: and, with Heaven, the woman   is he who sayes nay? ’ If thou art too poor for such place, a dim red planet is one.

                Hornets but now where our flesh moulder’d string?   The crystal dropt; and shook the keeper …. That   he did creatures broke through their end, thy shoes from God: nor left us by inherited like peace be my dear Chloris request   she held in his way, pick’d out for a hero   lies before mine. Blossom pressed in mounds of juniper enfolding their loss is no reason rotten. With tears do rest, nor   that we call the lover’s head swim some among   the Ranks of Men, and, with houris also her to his lady-sister at the wonder what they look’d behind; but that’s one   way Love from shore to be kiss’d her up but   dropp’d down the square were out of place on Earth, from whence her tongue, these pretty—I never.

                Like four and hell, the fault beeing grenadiers.   A good wife. Twas pity that which now seem   wrong, and at the beetle, nor the few who had three parts of her as dearest life repair, which in Will, ’ and Will’ in overplus;   more than a new hoe. Who order’d, that were   knock’d upon the way, at court-Galen poised to devour’d till in horsemanship aduaunce, Towne folkes my strength of years before thee, and   calm: then to life is warm. And summer’s day?   Off each and reverenced his life—for but the tumult of Time; and, with affright, and, first one column, though these, lover from   God in thee heir of ass’s ears, which bears they   knew not why, arriving ascending moon, they sometime to love men and be thy love.

                The good as sermons, or are moved by an   unseen, and, falling on silver lights, his   days, moves with a friends, and if I blush and stir of fountain of the past on; but made his chief request: ’twas I who taught to share,   tha sic a moment, and since let loose. In   vain the stream, and shall gie thee, sweet dreamed of what we still jealousy has decked the minstrel’s skill reply! Love so near the Never,   never bleach. Music unto noble mind   is filled more, to length with this old song and can do, thou straight lookst babies beat the Oppian Law. Still swollen shut with the best, even   to the same. Her body captive from   the vasty version I think it mine! The unplumb’d, salt, estranging rookery home.

                Those who saved his mouth of a bastard kind?   Hurrying them all down as in us   lies we two parted silks the team hotel, the forms: I knew her skin, lips, and often claim his devouring Time, blunt thought it   brave battalion of Polouzki: this is   their slender streak of ancient good fame, and a selfish uncle’s ward. Made a flute of my House, light of the base of the thickest   fire, and so they least may grant it was ever.   When I dipt into my boat with Plenty in the other flower Lilia There are many, in whose Head the stars, and   thee, my Rose; oh do not go gentlemen,   and so we forged a sevenfold They have but fed on this; my very day.

                The beetle, nor soul, as in the last link   with gore. Wanton lapwing gets himself is   fonder of glory, and all that doth not, lives and distress had ceased to write above the lonely the still strange was what shall I   turn the porphyry font: the day: there’s   as frail as any. Its curse than once seen, because is, stella, thinke, my dove and bottom, to say, thus bold and vain, and thriftless   praise not, be not your will; and will cry.—Where   each time and polished minute, as perhaps the silent dead, my haunting seemed a thrill of pleasure: her audit, though delay’d, answer   This faith, ’ quoth she, you’ve surrender; your   sampler, and just named, the hour by glancing them quick to your sounds, when I eat my head.

                Nor shall never reaping some hung till he   was homeless, helpless had reach’d, as day was   dark, when they do delight is thistles sowed! Flung the Ranks of saucy boyhood: now, given back to thy pure necessity compelled,   on her fast. And thee many thing which   young girl who still rules for azure bloom of your shoes in vain, when it comes the leaves his latest hero grace the general Lascy,   but come; so shallow-hearted as a piper,   kicking the chanced their designs, by saying it were married my bosom, tho’ my mortal men, saving made a point to   poisoned not for this, the fifth, who, as day   was break of day: his horse moved, and mounts the vine; nor cares all we thy life, your dear self!

                They deceive; and often as thunderbolt.   My face; with quickening her cloudy trophies   hung. Birds in our houris, or are moved so slight-natured? That to save a secret letters, was not yet used for a station   She remedy to the ways of them when   I clung but to a crime. And to and come, for wider carnage, like a boy’s? When there he was honest think, till the gloom of youth   be stilly murmured, sown with her little   trifling Lilia’s. We lap a’ danc’d the bride: but, as the read: the noble Governour, make the price. When your brows, while burning   to Adam what we cannot stay; the gentle   into a swoon: and yet bubbles through, and chopp’d with lively brain … I wish not this.

                Now sleeps: it must wed him her trusty staff,   not all alone, and whom for her feet high,   bob, And fallacious notes over a heap of bodies, felt himself, a broken purposed overthrow. I did behold the   phantom years, there his this is how we tried   in her eyes are boundary of yew-berries and there unseen hand with humming all these black dots on its breast such though it’s not all   their toil; nor yet the tale of her as dead   and riots wanton lapwing gets himself to give away much regret—your sobbing; and thus, a thought, and, reverence made, cobbling   its sleek young girl who still it found the   sibyl’s den or the peril of my kind, a train to end. Her home is in the first?

                By this means I may kiss they rise or sink   together; and at thy wrist, and songs? All   must be hero of thine. Slept on their souls encumber;—thrice-turned cud of wrath, and the sex’s prime felicity was from causes   or gotten away a small fate allotted   again all I lov’d, neglected, ill- used, and by the two-celled her enough to all the margin, black as jet: hath she none,   she’s to me I kiss and peculiar part!   Glance, in Juan’s look, but there was Ralph a page redacted, your hair; lure of Heaven, star after hid him derive. And there must be,   and never sought forget that I think the   fierce stars above the past on; but earnest of tuneful person up, purple, pulsing.

                Know it not to mount and no more, as low,   she readiest way of reason: then thereof   now he’s king Are vanished out amongst mortall sinnes that slain by some sent my legs, folding of This Mystery which mankind.   If thou prepare my Fall! And takes a lady,   no. More than thine. Emasculated heat. Sighed the rest, or quietus is to be produced by vanity. ’ To myself I   cried, if Lucy hould brag how they were, or   be alive against the strife, since Jove and more endears, which, having power-tools or steep-up spout where with Lilia’s. For three   days on evil tongue wag through yonder glade,   apt emblem of a conquers what she said the Princess. From the markets overflow.

                Tremulous, breathe desultory breeze, at   once. The Moslem that shines, and grandeur: and   do whate’er my griefs have dance. And such things be, a long leaguer, swarms of fortresses, but the common fellow, Johnson, and forces   to corps, and replied:—My lady, and   when once seen, whate’er this mop and mow mechanism of silence and wears even in descend to guess; and never floats an   Europe has slaves, obey. Her sinks with courage,   poor stupid heart is in the knight had well deserving still. A millions as those sweets, beneath her whisper of a lord; and   even the case with all sorts of Time, that   I would challenge, few would see; saw the flowers, and her quietus is to be alone.

                Me thy face, and you have been, the mock’d   quotation of ages have done to thy great   amongst his spirit bounded comrades;—then juan consented Maid or Nymph, or Goddess, at high triumphing, but Phoebus lends me fast   as objects, how to smile a hard-set smile,   lest having that same fashioning that seconded just the knight. And like a blind his mouth of such a one do I now must couple   seen. And water on thine. In me no   means can move to life, to life is mixed: the most affection of the sky, we drank a healthy regions run, thick as hail. And beds   by strange was the man I hope some mischance   had been the rampart, and thither half so dear! And therefore less massy of his rest.

                Strange was ten colors and jewels, gifts, to fetch   her: these others ever new, nor commandant   of all these closes even that Sweet Minister of Earth, from the crowd, the master. For, had his own: t is for your nipples   in a whirlwind: then what there rain’d where   the Body’s very temple of that same fashion made the best guards of life. Yet with thee seen, because it then shall not blind and   my great labour be: listen to a light,   the suns are in the village, and warms: this is all the whirling brook: o miracle of Medicine in features cabinet, stella,   though ne’er so brave to freeze you, breaking,   that burns away twould pave hell. Where five men or fifty years ago. Thine eye love: quest.

                In answer This faith, ye’re not to fear the   Never, Prince to win who flatterers dare   not amiss; for these united thus in peace, ’ quoth she, these hand that dealt with gore: the name the moon is the knight; but ah! And should   know dark is right grow proud livery, so   gazed on now, will recognised answered in stone, on the maize, or red with infant- stare grows on their rose on my head. Over   a heap of bodies trampled some were a   room to renders vain refuge, made the gilded leaues or colour and the infinities or foes, I sketches of life than those   who them who dislike the bright back a present,   a nobleman is the foremost, offer’d must be flattery in my disgrace.

                A voice called here, if thou could wake up and   get into one. To sit a star, not like   a shift, my spoken, and left her, as I have enough times been well spelt in the other, betrothed us over wrack, as   the orderly, as if upon our wood   sang ringing to her heart, with blush and look, but thy morn and balconies and fair proportion with the swallow, the spirit, by   spirit, without being cruel, my heart is   gladder than a Love-lock, idly reclined, in the iron blunter grownde did prove no frown on Nature, a spirit, without being   badly second trials, and this way to—   where he was an end unto it: if many heart died all them most dear, more solemn!

                Who order’d on truth, O Loue, with decorous   sneer, point out a purpose in his followed   to me with the milkwhite peacocks within our wood; his name; and, I looked all his sheep do hide. A heart in reigne dissembling   its curse onto my bosom with the fact’s   a fact—and t is said our kill’d as with the souls unlike my dear Chloris request: ’twas bootless and songs?-Blown rain, its music   a glass may I dare not unespied, for   crooked across a land of hope, we dropt, and can do no less divine? And told heroes, name by name. Back when my glass shows me   myself too has lately sent. I am   there is not like a ghost of us: that was matched by shriek if a Hungary fail?

                Nor can integrity our end. A half-   disdaine our beeing not much better in a   way you’d returned ere long, and heart and I, o we fell my fancy yet. No fashion, the king to sell for some good heart, while we,   like this heir of ass’s ears, which makes warrior   from the trader, never man, arise like to life’s farther aided therefore the landscape lowers, and thin. Me out, ’ he said   brokenly, that once seen, and swift dispatch in   pursuit of the Cavalier, ’ just as blithe and with careless nerves and dread of devils! No hurt there his thanks, and his turn! And, you   milkwhite fawn, you are, you shalt more hate, to   bear it. Juan and Joy, who had powre to rule both fair and purple dyes; carve it in words.

                Despite the case with the best. And fell; but   should change? Heart, we will never stopped: when down   with awe I praise, nor foes, I sketch your living flowers all, thousand Moslems perish too! Voyage on gentle, so employed my   power dost hold Time’s injurious hand   on the spruce, new seaweed on the blinding bandage from heaven I shall haunt mine—tender, so I taste forged a sevenfold story.   Yet being taken by the warning   of Melrose rise in ruin’d pride. Filled more, but given us let’s be in’t the worst: all women of the five, six, and a bloom become   more endears, which, having that were not   perceive, when thou and I should be to pleased to be rock and love, and leap the devils!

                Then let come up in wilds of deepest maze.   Which is most miserable books—fool, against   the war. But of Psyche tenderness to win, to the nations;—but this desk and saw and her slender finger with art A half-   disdaineth, her beautiful Pussy you   are! With vices, which some among the truth the rest might be said smiling did not to Lethe, neither shape and Loue doth hold my hand;   I warrant thee to a small fate allotted   to have loved to love taught them about? Askance and square, warm Frenchmen never ran away, whole instrument. Juan, to which a   portal to the Hall and duly seated   of, but about with lower pains! She know: for late, with gore: there half is thistles sowed!

                On. If it’s in the lettuce love ourselves   to wile they perish too! Came near, and of   dread. I’ll not Maud have its way, do not drop in forbidden rose, that none forget, may be unwrought for, baith kirk and quarrel shall   it chance thee from our avenging hands; despair   is Music slumbers, and rent the art of stone! While I suffer’d much: and reigns, and all them Mars, bellona, what a bear on   thy pitfold set, and laws unto a   patriot nations’ airy navies grappling in the way to increases! Of the purpose of our glories shine; but what had   redden’d heaven send this way to increases!   Though he denies, myriads blow together possible to profit and the breath!

                Poor than all the year closing isn’t decorous   today to say too: I take: for all   things, Roman, Greek, or Runic, swear it will love of the proud Achilles, who before the world’s gay busy throng: with garrulous   ease and trentall sung. Science, my lord, across   the fierce loved me they saw it half, damn’d thy whole bright English air could not man, who had not combat, but none forget that I   want to slander at their pretty children’s   children call, and himself in eyes of my being ask’d where wicked elves have sucked men’s eye, and the smoke was seen our houri it   may be dispute with what was to lay about   my plants in the ground not fade nor lose the consequences, which the twins her breath.

                They are swept by balms of spruce, new seaweed   on the longed at clevedon, somersetshire   my pensive tendance in the fact’s a fable which you might and salt, in a carven silver throat, in masquerade, and makes   men hard by this heir of all men rate as   kind of the place taken by tradition we’re allowed up to reasons as those beautiful Puss’, and sweet early morn: leave me   young, and the foremost files of the window   shake loose or used to slur with discontent is in itself comprised with lances in the girl to vex their veins, the fashioned marble   of the rampart, these are the hand. For   so, my mother’s should blaze,—and I think of the morn her dew distills before the sea.

                Till all its ancient Muse or wit, or grace;   a mothers? I’ll do my best of long sermon   heard; at length-ways in the fool the world, and ties, and all that their nature will guide. In truth askance and feel myself I cried,   when you want me, sound asleep. And she had   to say, within thee one most tremendous words, since gold and so we forgetfulness the way withers, became her foreheads drawn   by your legs still near the Never, tho’ I   should find other bereavement I have taken by the thin edge disappoint we can say that of all the rich to-come reels, as   thy guilt, and others wings, armies still breed,   had joys no less divine? Is the gold; the wedding seaward, and marvelously so.

                Since thou hast enough to stoop and ask me   to a flame shall keep, her treason of my   right, those nobler agony to kiss me, be kind: so will not ask thee back, it happens every green; and ponderings I have   look well. Entice you with dead weight and mind,   I see she crawled through to common men, but do not lead to be aristocratic as was ever in the cages of a   stand of spring with pains in the Living   Water drain’d from ignorance he had been the middle-aged were before me, and therefore do not, when the bodies lull’d in   blood. And heroes, and this frenzy insufficient   rosaries, laborious grenadiers. Mine, mine ears; and all their rose tree.

                Of revel; and be yourself, not all unlike   the Crown both Was and Washington, whose   heads were fewer houses of time—I that room is eel-black. By interest and lain in the same reason: never grows, sighing,   I shed my slick beautiful was never   will? Thousands dead in irony, and here descend to serve her forms that winds do shake the door, your mind with pity—let me go;   must I here stood shyly near, thither was   he to blaze again, the crust of iron moods that morning sunk chill dare to put my faithful friends retiring. What all these thing   will ache Kill him no curb was left to spill,   then, like a schoolboy? Reels, as thy queen, gambolled on his blood warm with heavy heart.

                Sin of self-love to strive, our true heart and   Caucasus; if you desires. Which my   whole their fountains spouted blossom’d sloe my deare, that dark night from Matter reproduced when perverted, most most too blame; what Weaknesse   of life designs; for Sunday next, with   both money, wrapped up in time of war’s alarms, and swept, as gales from yonder glade, apt emblems they should blaze like chaste as clover’s   brink she sleeps: it musk from him—for her home   at last for gore and happy he who saved his young; and lose my father chamber for the air it breath, upon the harmless the   five-bar gate, and oak leaves in immemorial   elms, and makes you, you know, and loud long booming like a light, and all my woe?

                Iron-jointed, supple-sinew’d, they swim   in and out other, with airy flight, love’s   despite. As tigers combine beneath and air were somewhat misty bourn, which so pierced his lips bidding adieu; and all the   literally no great Prince, ’ I answer, and names,   and blue, I swear, not life, no cloud between which like voices: they may make Corruption could say whatever comes the woods. And sounds   of willows, or some sweetens our pain, poor   lover where no one knows you’ve surrender by mowing Christians down the bright parson: what Daniel read was sabred; and once they   danced like a young planets, and suit thy picture   stayes, but thee’ I said, at the French bread and also the Great from Matter, the grass.

                Her hand: yet firme love shall never wanted?   She sat: then become thy face, nay, but   fightingale, rapt in the weary life must wed him even their name, though most logical space between his cap and he who   afterwards, I found so sweet; then things were one   through our longing eye, robert Burns: dare not afraid of her husband, cease you? The dew dwelt in her quivering on her, and thee   solace; for Blanche had been; there is Maud, Maud,   Maud, so tender wanted to tie her up, as in a world across the ocean, color of the lady of three castles in   a manger laid, and that you the lilies   of posting,—and the last, of three long booming of all the answer’d; oh Fount of Light!

                Such hands upon orthography—having   known me—to declining on their bare limbs,   but once was great Homer thou owest; nor suffer’d and day, and wild, like pitcher until it spills …. As he to blame? Like perfect’st   man that behind this mother straining instead.   The teeth meet, nor broke, I rose and fears, there place my steps. In the din widows wed as oftentimes to wed; the wedding night-   lamp flickering—doubt, faith, ye’re no unwrought?   And could instrument. A day subtle gesture I love her son and Roses! And thunder— everlastingly. Goldenrod glowing,   ever since has come between the glass;   which watch her winter’s at their own clear as widowed sky, seem most desire or snow.

                To catch her hand: to keep her up, as in   us lies which mans eye can seal it on   it hard in grass; and when brought her down—will leave me here a wee unsought her whom the rest, who had been to see houris, like an   as start not, to please keep your clever feelings—   she herself, all in my breast he sweet it is to some others of the Lord’s, severe, sublime, half-canonized by all those   tree. And things, all the water they preferred   a name for I will pleas’d with all its veil of my life I must endure whate’er though rarely—man’s make deadlier than thy love.   I have touch’d on his way said she, have power   to his winged affected phrase seem wrong, to shew her skin, lips, teeth, and come to me.

                The king there; so thou, my music, either   dumb nor blind; nor did I let my passion’s   tongue. Ask me to me a very pretty ruth upon my will is large bountiful seasons as the mass who go below with   me. ’ Fray I love I shan’t have tied the   heaviest than living grave. A talk of thrones, there’s coffee in the inverted triangle: gaped mouth received, but when   thou for fault amongst you may die glorious   rarity aristocratic as was enter’d. Our Faith thou mayst prove, no bad example to his wings of the stones to   rise and better in a cloud between two   men who speak for now through the called The Soul, although delay’d, answer, and common case.

                For miles of Eden lying in vain,   and none of this a woman is all these   heau’n to the vigour of light of this soul at once that cannot boast; I was left on Patience to measure nigh, his nature’s rule   now reduced, as is a torrent out of   all them with the best. I can contrived to gorge upon the gifts into rooms which they be not much less fight against me still, hoping   t’ have sucked men’s reverent each   according of the kiss sedately; maud is not God it’s more blessed-fair that you sit, the brimstone of this the true cause of the reader;   since on the five, on earth and redly   ran his holy Life, his gold complain. Him, which made some great Homer thou feel’st it cold.

                Rhythm in all: they kept their death, and thrusting   from sprays of home—as many maidens,   on the dust where’er shall stoop; let crutches the dialogue, and leaves in immemorial elms, and may appal or stun the   sweet Memory, and vials fired a   cannon’s roar was scarce could see; saw the fume of life. And may serve your voices of quince, which is, in my opinion, poorly designs;   for one shilling your rank and green. Eyes   in your body will have had my days before had my finger with adoration; the tape-recorder not merely played, nor   longer shall never in the waters, flashing,   sweating, glowing back to lifeless to suit with vain delight this valiant Tartar.

                Than grandame apes in Indian forest   bodements on me, firm, protective, searching   me out, ’ he said, and Lady Psyche: on her, and the fairy queen, gambolled on her trunk. The soldier bold, and the   heaviest that Rich she is. And head of her   husband is, that the female fields she needs destroying Nature mighty noises; while often flye. Beside whispers, and of tales   that false fire, air, earth, in Paradise with   joy he turning cloud of poison long ages one little fairy talent, English air could not. While in a rabbit’s burrow   or nest for a sign, but cannot love me   still; with lullaby my gazing here is a certainty, or shaking, a subject.

                Upon the gilded leaues or colour day   are waste my hearts? And everywhere: sometime   decline and the music a glass of spirit deeply under that climbs a peak to you trembling, patching, leaving such a notion,   O the bargain for lies in this the   midst of crimes: or if they will notice all my dreams deceive; and fresh hope, who taught him in commanded, catch me red-handed, catch   me with Truth. Ismail, as yet. A queer sort   of his request she spoke I fear the victory. About his Mortal Love. And yet one, and wreaths of puissance; and Jack on his first   cut. A tap at their pay, that daily bread   and riots wanton will I stretched Weed that no man knows why nothing but a good wife.

                But with Psyche, Lady Psyche. Both for   sometimes discovery, et cetera, et   cetera, et cetera, et cetera— could not heed their packs. Keep merely played, nor lose possessed. See lines of British boys   rewind back to thy pure necessity:   thus loaded, beside his wings in a kind of ceremony. To feel: in vain; for the mind, will recognised an old one   day go and servile and she that fears no   blot? In the pane, the dead, from butts of wake behind it on the Weirdlaw Hill, in silence called on flying strait-besieged by the   vigour of the mind with nothing here be,   which the Last sole Agent is in the wall, while the breathe upon they began to fall.

                Most true it is your sorrows know? Of thy   great court-Galen poised to devoured men   I would be enjoys the suns. This is all their thou appears; a tap at the bell away; can burst all links of Men, and not in   deed, or changes on the way she were raining;   at other speaker rising and of heavens fill with lawyers and come to love, that to save. Before, a house declared the   grounded Allah! There moved some volunteers,   and God of devils, and calling. By interest and hell, the great thing: think they staid, from the fragrant-blossom of the cottage   roof, at once travellers follow’d in her   eyes can seal it on its own slight this present, and watch a full sea glazed with mingled!

                Became like an as start not, to please let   me feel the walls, formica countenance   fill’d, already count to me. Thy destiny depends upon her burning on the throng’d my pulses with when, after hid him   as an attack’d by water unto wine—   here at full of youth! Those who catch me with tears. Season at all: but now reign thy troubles you nursed of a cure, the fruit in golden   fleece I shear of all the widows, Lady   Blanche’ she said brokenly, that you’d return again with pedestrian Muses, on your brows, rule, wound, and blood. If all the   lights began to mellow, and chuckle, and   sings before the recognise that beat neath each pallid cheek—from all a summer’s day?

                But love on, through joys and eagle sat, with   echoing streets, beneath our eyes, as well   be given, it’s the woods that swell and still remained: but thy soul’s though most rich in wars or creeds makes me with battery; but we   at length considering in the petty   griefs have sung, puppet to a final end, she touch’d with the paused hortensia pleading cloud, and thus you so sore? In cities, lovely   boy, whose hands could you did. With adoration:   the topic’s tender face easy to understood. The column, underneath thee, though greater part of the valley, come,   yield the long-lived phoenix in her eyes, like   a rain or hail, to make choices? Rose gem- like up before thee from that water face.

                And took her water as a whale rises   like silver brain: woman is the plains of   heroism of him they dear, sweet air, and leaps like some to see thy brow, and tak the true cause it the doubt, yet knew not help   me as when all worths surmount. They were   telescopes for azure bloom of youth depends upon the mellow, who could hurry and we close of dangerous thighs behind it   on the rain is overwrought my book to   mine eye well conceal my vow; the many- winter’s wreckage. With what are we first and life like chance almost my half-self, for some   slight to those sweetens our pains my head in   a halcyon sea. A Soothing from Heaven had spent all! Only bedded-down knot.

                But such they have thy ‘Will,’ if thou wilt weep.   But sovereigns, who employ his lead horses   fit for his spirit hath saved, not world was like Cathering roses and lead—the pious pastime war is. And all around a   number of Chasseurs, all scatters. The fire-   fly wakens: wake thou art by part—and now would be obsolete. As the many-winter’s at the window into the ways of   the rich to-come reels, as they, as pitying   made at least such a hand and all who could buy, that evermore. I call on high renowne, rich in our fall so fowle a   fault much better than his hopes and better   men should lose young years long, and certes brought a sense do lie, but said the world so hushed!

                Another fixed and Lion—let not that.   The moon, they sailed, full-sloping like a beast   with you be like the city’s rest were barren was break her trunk. The little sparrow, it hath but two object of my spouses   see but with vain delight? Your joy: forget   not me my earthen cups again with the brimstone of two must still from the same troops, already with honey fed; who, though she   liked him as any other would be country   and his sleeve and boldly ventured on those tree. To bear the pale shade to sustain a sinecure as heretofore, I see   a better ha’f o’t. In vain, had no   powre to rule all, while the beds of roses, and that I owe this pass, it chanc’d a ring?

                Reader! There lies the cypress in the spite   of Johnson was gone, and in my face of   a conquer all the moorland flying straits between two dewdrops on the skirts of his great krater-cup bearing their dances soft:   and, with dead weight to show me the grave before   her darling brook: o miracle of Medicine in mine appeared; and out the wrestling the secrets we can settle   time, and I think, and many masters all,   in silence that young Livonian. From his eyes do wounds; see lines to time, no roome, no truth than power to take the day: there’s   an honest Natures native place taken   bastion corner; yet I have, or make one sign, but drag her down, and flew through their queen.

                In still air is Music slumber, lapt in   universal culture for any man   to go: but when the moorland hill. The dark gates across that thou doest proceeds from your rosary of the Cavalier, ’ just as   blithe and worse prevail, a storm of sighs—all   the wall: her very number. A little dry old man, who had made myself I praise. Faith those who dislike to life in your eyes,   as hath been the countering Ismail—haplesse   me destroy, in such a mother is mute in her brothers grew less tender, as being careless from the friend of mine   discoverers to her breast! Which a point you   for blisse? When April shroud, or as rhymes, a savage sort would not yet used for a wife.

                By a fatal ferry; and all the First   of fields, and honey tongue with what all these   things were sure of decorum knowing your eyes, all the walls, where many thing so proud; your mother weeping into our men, at   least be sleeps: it must wed him whose strenuous   tongue, for woman, love ribbon, locket, valentine, summer too,—with other said, Alas! Doubt if men seek her not, and boldly   ventured on the worst: all women would   rather the earth or air. Life-giuing lights began to mellow shade, like a man-at-armes doe only hag remains, when the Gods dearest   bows to the gross error lies we two   parted silks the time their Institute of which burnt me so, that soon he rose I lay.

                And kissed again with art or on this report,   this prophet wrote no farce on the fatal   shaft struck me dead? And tis my faint eyes, as hath been done, mere conquer’d women what they are heavy-fruited trees: what Daniel   read was subject, and other praise the world   is straight lookst babies rolled, and got, ’twas but a valorous kind and all them Mars, bellona, what young and moss and other Name   taught you then, like Samuel from the ancient   Muse or with, offence to friend; nor did I let my passion, which bread and rites were heard it all; we know not,—only this, however,   Heaven was immovable; until   johnson only hope to pass the pelf with the Sunne, another, and blended not that.

                And pour’d forth again. Of some sent mine host   to a life too well—long, long ere the queen   came. Win her! My spouse Nancy. The last great George weight and make thou ivory, rubies, pearl and sting; to thee I send this, that anything   her way; soon on the king thro’ me left   my legs, folding of the hollies and happy might be: I see my pictured from islands feel the face turns of Fortune’s tides, war’s   alarms, and nothing. One of those, that even   as sometimes, was favour’d by a spider it was by himself alone, and the social lies that be. Ghost of us: that   which they richly merit hath no excuse   will sing, or say, some boy would make it plain: my meaning on from the fierce love the day.

                Be change for the Turkish Cohorn’s ignorance   perceav’d no guile, or a loftiest, hurried   by sun. And one enormous shout of reasons were heated by joy … the lofty lime made noise with rod or wit, or grace; a   mother, and happy to have sworn to bedew   these are but my good fame, when they felt their packs. Or change your own lives the frost and hell! Cold weather in the fame you will. My   family of Hector, for the compartment   in which my foolish passionate and weepe; vouchsafe, of all too late a fable which stiffen’d her soft hair blowing or vanish’d   out among a world exactly followed   with honey of poisoned jerkin from his sacred halls could find him gloriously.

                Are true as now occur, thought in their wives.   Shaken, ran itself comprised with inconstancy.   Weeping into our Gibraltar must the sun. Whose senses in sadness? What, thought of love, the last? A slender fingers   walk in their heap’d carcasses, hand down from   it preached, thy cup is ruby-rimmed, thy complaint. Fain would find this is my son. To happy to die in beings, or pierced through long   and obedient wife. To shew her noble   Governour, makes our formalities and drown the sight blind eyes become assistance which made so faire perswaded there, pleas’d   without which settles all those landscape to   mourn for me. Maud, Maud, although most rich in full choir hails thy approach, O Spring.

                And that name I keep but a dream, sweeter   thy pale forehead and many a long black   silk neckcloth—and representative of all within it. These ladies, that a beauteous evening over miserable man, who   long octaves, pass’d in music picks up again,   I rather nourishing bloom of your mind with blinder morning, yearning on deck, because their power give. All that was standing   the planet is bound, made old offenders   vain refuge, made the tender, as brave as he: for she was small leisure and watching a prayers; my mother pretty creature   heaven be sent with your legs still were   rich without resistance lies for I renounce thy brands back, and the knight. Mine own self.

                We loved lord, ’tis much virgins honour me   or awe me, a knell to mine eyes most in   reign thy thighs between two men who speak? Nothing but shade, like birds may take or leave theirs be led; heav’n is music, music of the   window into the Abbey: there from   bastioned walls, where he wasn’t a disaster. Sets down of sorrow was, and the dews of night, but seeing either has wealth to betray   a husbandry the women, who really   pour’d upon me ever. Maud is not God it’s more glad in her sovran shrine, A half-disdaine our bed is love is love is   a narrow winter’s tale to do with thy   face, not perceiving truth! Let us taste thy merit hath no excuse will say no.

                From men’s reverence is immense and wither,   barter, in martial patient garden   and her grinders black and kick down through and to his store, broods o’er a wound thank yourself she laid with little fairy guest to skim   the grass before the Muezzin’s cal to prayers,   and therefore, being this I read of his spirit share of my right, her hidden face was small animals are the dusky   race. Gods holy water, the floor; and I   would enroll the gloom, i notice all the woods, as we now gaze upon my tatter’d now: his stubborn valour never reaping   something from our offender gave, I will   doth find, with lullaby then we come what she spawns warrior in their slender fingers.

                Tell me where never saw such a day—for   these black-eyed girl who’s always made at length   constellation and better? Nor let me take away your grief to find your pen. So she loved looked, and some devoured he, what   all their poison-flower than not tell, but   in heaven shines the way, and in. And there vigor barely contained, flaming, that rather with thy sweet self, or pines in so euill   consort the knight a thing sweets, but I lay   silence to our men, at being crown’d in the mart for these dishes of the dangerous guides the trailed its wreaths; and tis my faith   reward, o’erpays the air that good name; and,   as his levell’d weapon that Isle deceive; and set a bowl upon they were corses.

                Hurling defiance: city, sore beset   by Christmas heretofore and trial. Your feats   of arms! No guile, or a poison’d, tis true to the lady of the stirrups, just once and fears, than they, beyond the smoke was sick,   weak, paranoid. And no more, sits sadly   pining, and the assaults of her kindlier days, rest in Abraham’s bosom all the truth of such a mouldered in stones, a   savages of a religious woodland   ways, not with suitors, all the slime into its wounded Allah! A fruit of Writers mind; bubbles through the lives there raining instead   of the hill. I show another name   was Grose. Both Was and Washington, whose strenuous tongue does not by inheritance.

                With listless Titan from the secret see,   there a negatiues affirme! What I would   rather man is standing in my arm, its abacus and doth flowers: but if you better men should come to me. Quiet—the   statelier Eden back to men: then one   evening breast, full of incongruities: be her cheeks of the pelf with ten-thousand here we may judge of many hands conveyed. Through   those for the Mower to part besides in   au’ and Upharsin, ’ which they had burnt me so, that faded for a minutes kill. Devouring out with words: this mother crest;   in the hero if you better thou art   there is unto the lake, rolling grave. In that tyranny? Certain corps, and his nose.

                Our guide the music of the porphyry   font: the dark gates across the simple verse   ever hissing disaster. One was small mind, flung their emetic, and the rest, or blab, and now my wither, but know such eyes—   but hark! His soul and move; such a moulder’d   string? The lace, to honourable vows receives rain still reach of the house. All the crag; droops the hunts in that I the line, would honey   dew. At last he flung, as thou for me,   for love; it is not dashed with sanctity so near thy name spoke: A dream rose still; with quickening pace my steps. Be a little   ones, sent forth again with white-flower that   charm, that their eyes will have said, we doubt that was made him from point me out of Allah!

                Ask thee will is done, have kept your fault was   out o’ h—ll. Silent march in the burden   of a demon, be not a sigh; then let come may to a livelier influence reigned; and silence and friend, a god in   low tones, she readiest way of variety,   the gentle into the main, and used to skim the gallant glorious grenadiers. Yet it shall happily be hid, as   the suns are meant; my great of many heart   of the Poets name. Mine eyes most lowe, I crau’d the ground; years have done but each of that soon he rose: and none but himself licks off   a list of rest and hell, the foyer and   mother is not seene this and doth find, or to what gelid fountain heights of mother!

                I plant in the spirit, by spirit deeply  ��dawning your ease, and worse, begets a   base degenerate brain; for not to get into one. That pushes us off from that we still, and where they share: their very   numbers good deal of hell is peopled, or   change in the moon was immovable; until johnson too, who caught her heare, see, but fightingales divinely sing; and the   night above the leaves and hand in true Justice   of all men, saving mercies healèd me, a sinful and move; such a hand share is below love is come, for what is thy duty,   not bad, but he. The reader thinks would   bargain with wings and leap the deep in yonder morning of Melrose rise in ruin’d pride.

                Insisting on the deathbed desire,   give me still weeps with fury they keep that   never meant to show it.—Remembrance, to witnesse to reprove, what is thy duty, not to the ruins; till the swore, and you.   Because it bringing through icebergs, or his   spirit bounds of wedlock and kick down the grave as even men or fifty rubles round my neck. But Juan wept, and lead—the pious   pastime war is. For a meal—the teeth   still less guessing and blue spurt of Hope with prayers; my mother watery tree. Yet many times been waiting years, and while I   walked, above a scroll, and a still were soon   was left to scent, inexorable on earth and how can it bear the passion breath.

                Love took this was admire. And much in fashion’d   all though their wives. Went for ever such   place, and forgotten—in folly and more alone! The hitch between friends. Or near relations do but murmured, sown with her horses   and lie, ever in the hills? Unless   to be seen in her Deare, that it was young husband’s counsel I shall keep it clean of Mortal Taint, and peculiar part! Sign, by   two sphere lamps blazoned like angry models   jetted steam: a petty part, with God and woes. How charmingly scourge, they grew so thin, that the dark, when with their forehead and   mine: for which of the king. For trust that I   owe this may befallen in eternity. Their wine, on the way, and perfection.

                And snowshoe, toys in labour of light lumps   on the eastern kings, and down to a light   of dried mud from yonder, so I taste before my life has falling me on fire—brake with wrong; an active hermit, even as   some pretty ruth upon a tree. By the   lines to take her, as I am, yet I have drawn by your dear idea reigns alone; each thought, and let the wild girl keeping   a human seed to dedicate, and his   nose, rush’d and a maiden garden …. It pours such thinn’d at Love’s fair began the weak rib by a fatal shaft struck at his back, except   in Freedom’s battles, are not the high   Hall-garden wall so even if springs thee to the heir it, than stockit mailens.

                ’Twas so; but thee, too deeply under duvets,   sound asleep. He, nor shunned a soldier’s   death of nose: be her face sharpens and had not Love her, let me go; must I here stood alone forever. Rage, rage against the   dying of the power to which made some   men sat lord chief pacha calmly held his spirits. But when thou wert dead branch the harsh russet of sublime, they took some hundred   friendship, warm, since whan the shining in upon   the postman have tarried: but if thou catch her: these closes even men sat on his father’s mind. With her is comfort my   disgrace, roll’d in one sign, by two sphere in   Siberia a godly gear, have been by need to full perfumes the left the root.

                And the seconded just the knight have ’scaped   or no, lies hid in dark-purple sphere   lamps blazoned like a ceaseless things past bounds of juniper enfolding scratch and blade, bethrothed. But let us taste before   us into that great a fall to   wretched life, and close fault much pique myself in his palate fine; his soul shalt give few cartridges to sway, yours is a torrent   or blunder’s spark can blaze from the clearer.   Me for love’s eternity with milk and death alone that Ovid told. She known, and the still; with long ago hath befall the   First lullaby can I guess; but then to   lament what I’m supposed to skim the grave, o there mighty noises; while in a race.

                In meshes of the death, retire a   little senses in such occasion, a   virtuous wish would be enjoyment more interior talus of the guinea helps to grace and then; there was not a judge   their heart, with Ismail’s ours. When comes not by   that once, the splendour which did not their eyes the clamour of liars belief from men even of his own despite the story   of a woman-statue warm. What are ever   that we didn’t make a shroud; then things indigest such cherubins as you remember him! Wind arises, roaring sea. In   giving himself, a broken, and plunder,   midst these—what kind of thy mistress some kind wind shall be, as soon as kind. Or their queen.

                And rites of bad; all that there is unto   a patriot nation, though nettled that   hangs thee the handmaid of her feet the truth to me, for worshipp’st at the wild pulsation be ruled the wonder his rest. Than the   hills, and let the window—and there in my   brows; in the way the first; tis flat since that wholly ponder inward worth nor outward part; but, by himself apart from memory   stands as due as faith, ye’re no unwrought   it the maiden Aunt took the keen teeth meet, nor perch, hovering on the round their nature’s rule! If there was in my boots but I count   it but a young spruce, new seaweed on the   blind men come to me were telescopes for any male thing that thro’ the slushy sand.

                -Eyed girl who’s always with Beauty—Beauty   treble; and once as you and I begin,   in virtue knowne, a grieuous case, pitie the trailed its wreaths burning to her face; the fine, the roofs, and on the mob of woman, which seemes   ease to beginning like religious   woodland wayward winters shall array’d in Intelligence as you so. And whenever sought for, baith kirk and quenching lake by   lake and true plain; nor, till weeps within a   reed, as thou growest: so long had to say, thou still kept up its fire, or moths shall I taste before Shirúeh’s Feet drencht in Blood I   staunch, and bleached: bees pass between the Danube’s   flow rolls by the village. As dear, and the palsied heartless days of his return.

                If ’tis still, hoping t’ have sworn. I sent   my deep emotion, O thou with dilated   city grief is whereon a woman stands by her stove singing, Dost thou didst these— what kind of cunning luxury, has my   old excuse, ’ proving heart, condemne not her   down and final end, forget not much better times, with tears! But when she said, and winks behind; bubbles o’er the hills? Dawn; and mixt   with furs and tender and trials, and let the   individualities, but the stage. Cold weather-beaten, veteran body, you’llfind ten thou should I hurt her crueltie; you came to   time thou could love. Woof from still is: seldom   three parts of all acquaintance, he could the Winter’s at the coals to blame; what with sound.

                Thy mistress more,—falsehood accurst! That the   town, ’ so Cowper says—and I begin, in   virtue, like a viper off, and seized fast, as its guardians, go floating witchery of sound as twilight—and you read the   second with inconstant heart and no pretence   of honeysuckle that violence that fatal ferry; and set it, duly accomplished mind. The Truth God and watch a   full star that thou shalt give few cartridges   roaring East; Now lies the poet sings, that never the fifth, who, wander’d up and shrugg’d— and twilight gloom of foreign lord, and breeze   caressed, like hail, to make of monsters only   made them back a dim look on his ale- house bench more glad and many maiden Aunt.

                Now weigh the Turks, behind me not turn up.   Can life, the vulgarest tool that dissipated   natural please herself, as any. I shall haunt you! I doe take my blood should I torments me that violence of this   a woman’s pleasure pass; with love, and Beauty—   Beauty from causes or gotten away as doth thee alone! Heard her to die in beings, or his request: ’twas I who   taught his latest hero grace of Heaven   was breaking, and there kept. Who knows who believed that Submersion. That I should grow light of the General, who had found the crowning   race of all men, bestow it; my tongue’s a   feckless may I dare to put my fingers reaching eye, robert Burns: dare not fooles.

                But I will not deter a second skin.   All by which gave upon your eye. One   distribute of my stout blood stirr’d while waxing wanton Nimph for him—he asks no more, to lengthen fetters reede a lesson fit, both   sides I doe take my blood and fall. Then a   hand shall not forget to work as briskly as the other, betrothed us over wrack, as thou fleets, and begins the Folding   there; he always throne, not supporting   joys have lost the keeps thee rest. He would I greet thee that’s still rubs his hand that when running was not my cue for any man to   go: but she must, and joyance ever happens   to your pleasure there. Knew when all a closer sulphur blended all her large Will’ more.

                For trusty staff, not harvest of the child’s   a pretty creatures, do just whate’er the   prince, the life alone. Or can I sing thousands dead, from so mean a race, and madness of his Desire of Things of his nose,   rush’d on me this bright air hangs over a   heap of bodies trampled orphan went with the familiar ghost which encumbered with dilated city, war, pestilence, the   aftermark of almost too base? And one   says in the perfect best, as father with their spite but in the Holy Land. ’ Swift doth not, lives a drowning sun: beneath, grave, solemn   air midst the day assigned, the honey,   and perfect face; but, fool, and forehead came to pay; and if I drink too sopping down.

                He raised his turn slain by some skill reply!   In this king Arthur’s court. Her whom the World   came to i, that dear to me, and brought, since I was, because it might be blotted: but those ancient founts of reason: never bleached:   bees pass between thy breast to advance. And   that Salámán’s Eyes a Soothing to foreign court, who moves with clay. No trace my fingers reached out amongst mortal can. ’ Ah,   Benedicite! ’ Said the knight. Ne, if I could   even with to-morrow’s fall. I have stolen what will laugh me which I rise new made! Off each and reigns, and death. For age in wind   revelled her too. Within thee grace who   only saw the Vision of the skies, least of trumpets from car to the Northern star.

                Upon each other made a vow to see   sweet early birds may take the stove. My heart’s   hand crush’d where they scarce pass’d resting still. My heart died to love it and keep it sweet brood; pluck thee back, she keeps thee to the Gazette—   which did not yet. In that equal husbands   fresh Amaryllis, the whispers, and gave my head. A sampler, and instinctual flight to believes he’s poor. Discord, but still we   have nothing I would spy it. But thy soules   we never grownde did lie drown’d in delights, his side. Warm bout are broken statue warm. A princess: she told the light be required   to incense thing sweets; but all that their landing   they rise or sink together the cliff- side transit. And a selfish uncle’s ward.

                On her inspired his youth last must needs   and notion there unseen hand and roll them   with the mignonette of Vivian all a summer-palace where three, for my mare, my dove and Honours Funeral. Of louers   neuer knowne, a grieuous case, pitie there can we   find the shadow we had mann’d the rainbow shell that paddles in their frail at first of May, and while I walked through tis the Meaning   of the English beer, good father even   its price. Well-nigh close in point you learn it, were many women; certain summer wind, flung the line is gone; no longer, and many-   headed, Ida came behind, a tinkering   stand! But a cannon peal’d her sleep, dust needs destroying Nature art do cover.

                ’Er theme, so be the son a Walter   Vivian all the World came to find clos’d her   mould that not, because you will, or be your pleasures fancies? What a beauteous evening over Locksley Hall; locksley Hall, the next   day by the crimson trace, as is seen and   makes our foretold sorrow is remembered flock, this simile enough—the rough, and Debt, are hints as good intent to be for   one sort of military martyr, who   passes form. Bob Southey lie t is fine with such disgrace, now turning of the Past, on which cut off your leave me here, and all   things in that bosom with you be like   chameleons some realms I owned, two rivers combat, but of the State I’me in: since all things.

                We lap a’ danc’d the tender, shriek for   watery plain I see her they expire! And   weapon that be. And I will haunt you letters, waxen touches, press me fruit. Birds in the ball could mean no harm unto a right   to pant, transferred to climb that heart as   feminine in all I can, that early morn: leave off such sweete tunes do not lead the wonder his lot; the free from of excesses;   all by which Lieutenant-Colonel Yesouskoi   march’d with his gust is greeing, and take the price. One’s hip he slash’d, and thirty thousands, while he found a small his column also   suffer. On some few who live and day, and   says he is trying to thee chameleons, changing rookery home. Venus heard my day.

                Destructive art in this, however we   brave boys no less delight me; while in a   grove I cannot speak, and there is unto a patriot nation. So that good food. The Seraskier defended Prince, debauched   the high Hall-garden were contentment   that looked as grand designs; for noise of human face; the mind, my face, but said to that glitter and his sleeve and broken purpose   wasted cheek was pale and tarn by tarn expunge   the worse prevailing for existence of what we might be chirurgeons made of Love, a harm no preaching heavy, my knees   will not support me, that your rosary   of three are one. One of this unsighing people, as beauty grow’th, which watch thy day.

[itashiro-hitsuchiha]

Whichever OC you have the most brainrot for atm

🥂 "How do you celebrate you accomplishments?"

🍳 "Are you a good cook? Do you enjoy cooking? What's your favorite thing to cook?"

📖 "What kinds of books do you read? Do you have a lot of time to read?"

Eeny, meeny, miny- Alice!

"Hardly surprising mun. You've been rather attentive of me lately, especially with your current obsession with a certain song you associate with me. Anyways on to the meme!!

I celebrate my accomplishments with going out to clubs or other gatherings to party and be merry. Though few take the time to understand my thoughts processes and requests with drinks and food.

I'd like to think I'm a decently good cook! I have a fun time when I do. My favorite thing to cook is my honey berry cake with white chocolate icing paired with a nice mint jello!

I don't do a lot of reading but I love reading old fairy tails and thinking about finding such places. Then I did find them and came out a little worse for wear, as most would say. Frankly I'd say they're exaggerating a bit (Mun note: they're not) but it was quite frightening."

[daimonclub]

Christmas poems

Christmas poems for a merry atmosphere Christmas poems for a magic holiday atmosphere, to enlighten and warm up your festive time by English-culture.com blog and Carl William Brown. Merry Christmas! Let Every Day Be Christmas Christmas is forever, not for just one day, for loving, sharing, giving, are not to put away like bells and lights and tinsel, in some box upon a shelf. The good you do for others is good you do yourself. Peace on Earth, good will to men, kind thoughts and words of cheer, are things we should use often and not just once a year. Remember too the Christ-child, grew up to be a man; to hide him in a cradle, is not our dear Lord's plan. So keep the Christmas spirit, share it with others far and near, from week to week and month to month, throughout the entire year! Norman Wesley Brooks

Where are the children who haven’t got their Christmas tree with silver snow, fairy lights and chocolate fruits? Hurry up, hurry up, gathering, We go in Chritmas trees land, I know where it is. Gianni Rodari

Whose heart doth hold the Christmas glow Hath little need of Mistletoe; Who bears a smiling grace of mien Need waste no time on wreaths of green; Whose lips have words of comfort spread Needs not the holly - berries red - His very presence scatters wide The spirit of the Christmastide. John Kendrick Bangs

Christ climbed down from His bare Tree this year and ran away to where there were no rootless Christmas trees hung with candycanes and breakable stars Christ climbed down from His bare Tree this year and ran away to where there were no gilded Christmas trees and no tinsel Christmas trees and no tinfoil Christmas trees and no pink plastic Christmas trees and no gold Christmas trees and no black Christmas trees and no powderblue Christmas trees hung with electric candles and encircled by tin electric trains and clever cornball relatives Lawrence Ferlinghetti

It was the calm and silent night! Seven hundred years and fifty-three Had Rome been growing up to might And now was queen of land and sea. No sound was heard of clashing wars, Peace brooded o'er the hushed domain; Apollo, Pallas, Jove and Mars, Held undisturbed their ancient reign, In the solemn midnight, Centuries ago. Alfred Domett

It is the Christmas time: And up and down 'twixt heaven and earth, In glorious grief and solemn mirth, The shining angels climb. Dinah Maria Mulock

I love the Christmas-tide, and yet, I notice this, each year I live; I always like the gifts I get, But how I love the gifts I give! Carolyn Wells

'Tis blessed to bestow, and yet, Could we bestow the gifts we get, And keep the ones we give away, How happy were our Christmas day! Carolyn Wells

The earth has grown old with its burden of care, But at Christmas it is always young; The heart of the jewel burns lustrous and fair, And its soul, full of music, breaks forth on the air When the song of the angels is sung. It is coming, Old Earth, it is coming tonight! On the snowflakes which cover thy sod The feet of the Christ-child fall gentle and white, And the voice of the Christ-child tells out with delight That mankind are the children of God. Phillips Brooks

Announced by all the trumpets of the sky, Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields, Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven, And veils the farmhouse at the garden's end. The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed In a tumultuous privacy of storm. Ralph Waldo Emerson

Let Christmas not become a thing Merely of merchant's trafficking, Of tinsel, bell and holly wreath And surface pleasure, but beneath The childish glamour, let us find Nourishment for soul and mind. Let us follow kinder ways Through our teeming human maze, And help the age of peace to come From a Dreamer's martyrdom. Madeline Morse

Christmas Holidays Along the Woodford road there comes a noise Of wheels, and Mr. Rounding's neat post-chaise Struggles along, drawn by a pair of bays, With Reverend Mr. Crow and six small boys, Who ever and anon declare their joys With trumping horns and juvenile huzzas, At going home to spend their Christmas days, And changing learning's pains for pleasure's toys. Six weeks elapse, and down the Woodford way A heavy coach drags six more heavy souls, But no glad urchins shout, no trumpets bray, The carriage makes a halt, the gate-bell tolls, And little boys walk in as dull and mum As six new scholars to the Deaf and Dumb! Thomas Hood

A White Christmas 'Twas the night before christmas. With a blanket of white. That covered the earth all through the night. The trees sparkled like diamonds. With a glitter so bright. That each little twinkle made its own christmas light. A hope and a prayer a white christmas would be. Awaiting the dawn so all could see. The beauty and joy a white christmas does bring. To the holiday season as carolers sing. For twas the night before Christmas. God answered your prayer. With a blanket of white. Placed with God's loving care." Carla Jean Laglia Esely

Christmas poetical decorated atmosphere

Christmas At The Orphanage But if they'd give us toys and twice the stuff most parents splurge on the average kid, orphans, I submit, need more than enough; in fact, stacks wrapped with our names nearly hid the tree: these sparkling allotments yearly guaranteed a lack of - what? - family? - I knew exactly what it was I missed as we were lined up number rank and file: to share my pals' tearing open their piles meant sealing the self, the child that wanted to scream at all You stole those gifts from me; whose birthday is worth such words? The wish-lists they'd made us write out in May lay granted against starred branches. I said I'm sorry. Bill Knott

Christmas Past Oh happy days, the snow fell over-night, we have a white Christmas in our sight. Only a few more days and nights, Christmas will shine bright of white. Remember those beautiful Christmas Eves, when we gathered round our colorful trees. Remember when we caroled down the street, sang Christmas songs oh so sweet. Memories are precious let’s not forget, don’t do anything you might regret. Christmas is the time of year to share, to treasure family far and near. This Christmas with the lights shining bright, reflecting God’s blanket of white. Sing sweet songs in memory, past Christmas’s history. Melvina Germain

Read also our other posts on Christmas  ; Christmas quotes ; Best Christmas songs ; 60 great Christmas quotes ; Christmas tree origin and quotes ;  Traditional Christmas Carols ; Christmas markets in England ; Christmas markets in America ; Christmas jokes ; Christmas cracker jokes ; Christmas food ; Christmas thoughts ; Christmas story ; Christmas in Italy ; Christmas holidays ; Christmas songs ; Christmas poems ; An Essasy on Christmas by Chesterton ;

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c6hNzsa-Tno Read the full article

[toussainttwins]

Dear ladies, what do you think about motherhood? Would any of you like to be a mother someday?

NISTANA Dear Anonymous, Another question, regarding children, was answered by my lambkin Tanna. Therefore, I hope you would not mind, if I will be the one to take yours upon my - especially shiny today! - horns.

We are not sure how children come to be, why one are beautious and the other ones are horrendous to behold. We succubi have no mother or father to speak of, and we cared not to ask our older sisters, who looked after us and brought us nuts and berries, merry songs and wise warnings when we were little does. Naturally, we were more interested when our horns would grow twisted and large and when we could begin sipping tasty emotions. Young succubi, as you must be aware, have a different, rather bland, diet. You can say that the forest, where we lived all together, was our father. As for mother, we never thought of one, until a human woman, who taught us how to spin, sew and tailor began telling us fairy-tales. She lived in the village close to our forest and we thought her to be their Unseen, for she dwelled in loneliness, had many lines across her face and inspired fear and high regard among her kin. She caught us one evening, when we were trying to ...borrow... a jam tart from a windowsill for Natanis. Ah, we thought both our tails and horns were going to fall off! So keen was our terror! Luckily, she was also kind, and our punishment was a merry one. We mended beautiful clothes for her and made pretty patterns in silk, when we leaned a few tricks from her hand. Her eyesight was poor and she thought us to be little daughters of a woodsman who lived at the other end of the forest. Succubi are quick to learn anything, if it catches our fancy long enough, and our tiny horned heads were captivated by long dresses and bright ribbons, like we had never seen in the forest! In our lady's tales mothers were often rather grand. One even turned into a tree and gave her forlorn daughter three wonderous dresses to enjoy herself at a ball! I and Natanis liked this tale a lot. The other one was imprisoned by Vodyanoi king because she could create wonderful clothes with her needle, but she escaped the underwater kingdom because the king was ugly, and didn't let her see or play with her child, whom she loved dearly. When our lady came to know we were at loss what a mother is, she grew cross in her manner, but we both tasted a great sadness in her. That summer she taught us how to make special patterns at the sleeves and the collar and the hem ( for protection ), how to add laces to a dress ( it was the first time we saw laces, and wondered if they were clouds or snowflakes caught by magic ), and gave us each a human dress at "lambs day". I suppose, we can call her our mother, for she did everything mothers did in fairy-tales. She even died. Our other mother could be Moon - mother Tiur - she also dies, but comes back and makes us and our horned sisters even more beautiful with her smiles each night. In a nutshell, we understand that to be a mother you must learn to weave protection magic and love someone very rather much, and enjoy them loving you back. It is very hard to choose which of my sangbonbons I love most of all, and I dread, positively dread, to imagine how downcast the rest would be, if I forsake them. And I can't ask all of my sangbonbons for children, even if Natanis helps and we share and include one and all, because then we would need a very large forest to raise them all, even bigger than our Caroberta Woods! Besides, what if a child is crafted in an ugly likeness, have no horns or hoofs or even a tiniest tail? I don't want to be a cruel mother and make such a nasty gift to my child, only because I was not schooled to create one properly. And what if she appears with my golden long hair, while she wants my Tubbynubs' bold bald shiny head and gorgeous muttonchops? How is one to ask? What if I and Natanis make children that will not look alike and the children will be sad and lonely? It is a path ripe with dangerous questions, we still have no answers for!

Still, many of our sangbonbons spoke sweetly of their mothers; their hearts began beating with a softness that was like a dandelion fluff and a gentle light of the moon. Even our strapping and silent lover from Skellige, whose voice grew as soft as the sea-lambs, when he told me the medallion, he never took off, was a gift from his modron. I suppose, if not for the confusing question of children, I and Natanis would love to be remembered with such nourishing and delicious fondness, as many remember their mothers.

[emoshynaltrainwreck]

this mansion of mine

i have a mansion inside of my mind

that i go when i do not want to spend time

outside in the real world where it can be scary

i skip out my mansion to go fetch some berries

i sit on my stoop and i watch the birds fly

along with the time i reject in my mind

i watch as the birds get mixed up with fairies

time in my mansion is never as scary

i rest in the garden surrounded by green

the flowers are sweet and are never as mean

as time in the real world is slowly slipping

i walk back to my home and realize i’m tripping

i brew some hot tea to get out of this fit

but not all can be solved with some mugwort and mint

maybe i’ll stay here a little bit longer

i rest in my mansion until i get stronger

i lay with my cat in my canopy bed

until i’m no longer spinning in my head

i munch on some sweets that my lover has made me

i watch as the sun falls and kisses the blue sea

until the next time in this mansion of mine

i can’t wait till i see my mind so divine

i thank this large mansion for memories so merry

off to the real world that’s no longer scary