#small poem for the winter solstice

[mournfulroses]

Margaret Atwood, from True Stories: Poems; "Small Poem for the Winter Solstice," originally published in 1981

[mmwm]

LINK FEST: 2 JANUARY 2024

Links that may or may not be related to gardens, food, travel, nature, or heterotopias and liminal spaces but probably are. Sources in parentheses. short article: Native Plant Garden 10 Years In: 5 Lessons Learned (Nuts for Natives). I know the third one is true (the value of repeating plants) but with a limited budget and an unlimited interest in the variety of plants, I don’t enact it;…

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Some Magic-Related Vocabulary

for your next poem/story

Amulet: An object worn, carried or placed to guard against negativity or other vibrations. A protective object.

Astral Projection: The practice of separating the consciousness from the physical body so that the former may move about unhindered by time, space or gravity.

Bane: A poison; that which destroys life. "Henbane" is poisonous to hens.

Banish: To drive away evil, negativity or spirits.

Beltane: An ancient folk-festival day observed by Witches that celebrates the fully blossomed spring. April 30 or May 1.

Censer: A vessel of metal or earthenware in which incense is burned. An incense burner.

Chaplet: A garland or wreath of flowers or leaves worn on the head, as in the chaplets given to classical Greek heroes as symbols of honor.

Clairvoyance: Literally "clear seeing." The ability to perceive facts, events and other data by other than the five "normal" senses, unaided by tools.

Curse: A concentration of negative and destructive energy, deliberately formed and directed toward a person, place or thing.

Divination: The art of finding things out through means other than the five senses, using tools such as tarot cards, crystal balls, and so on.

Enchant: "Sing to." Magically speaking, a procedure whereby herbs are aligned with your magical need prior to their use.

Evil Eye, The: Supposed glance capable of causing great harm or fear, once almost universally feared.

Fascination: The art of placing other people under one's power through sounds, gazes, colors, etc.

Hex: An evil spell; a curse.

Incubus: A male demon or spirit which was believed to sexually tempt and abuse women; the succubus was the corresponding female demon.

Infusion: An herbal tea.

Lughnasadh: An old harvest festival celebrated on August 1st or 2nd in Europe, reverencing the abundant (harvested) fruits of the Earth. It is still observed by Wicca.

Magic: The practice of causing needed change through the use of powers as yet undefined and unaccepted by science.

Magic Circle: A ritually-created circle (or sphere) that offers protection to the magician during magical rites.

Magician: A person of either sex who practices magic.

Magus: A magician.

Midsummer: The Summer Solstice, usually on or near June 21st, one of the Wiccan festival days and an excellent time to practice magic.

Pendulum: A tool of divination which consists of a heavy object suspended from a string or cord. The end of the cord is held between the thumb and forefinger; questions are asked and their answers divided by the movements of the pendulum.

Pentagram: A five-pointed star which has been used in magic for centuries. Highly symbolic, it is also a protective device.

Poppet: A small doll made of various substances to influence a person's fife. In herb magic, either a carved root or a cloth image stuffed with herbs. The use of poppets is known as "image magic."

Power Hand, The: The hand you write with; the dominant hand. This is a magically potent hand.

Samhain: An ancient festival day marking the beginning of winter. Also known as "Halloween" and All Hallows Eve. It is observed by Wicca with religious ceremonies.

Scry: To gaze into a pool of ink, fire, crystal ball, etc. to awaken and summon psychic powers.

Spell: A magical rite.

Talisman: An object worn or carried to attract a specific influence, such as love, luck, money, health; as opposed to an amulet which keeps forces from its bearer.

Wicca: A contemporary religion with spiritual roots in prehistory that worships the life-force of the universe as personified as a God and Goddess. It is sometimes erroneously referred to as "witchcraft."

Witch Bottle: A bottle or jar containing herbs, pins, shards of glass and other objects, designed to protect a person or area from evil and curses. Usually buried or placed in a window.

Witchcraft: The practice of natural magic, as that of herbs, stones, and candles. Spell-casting. Still used by some to refer to the religion of Wicca.

Wort: An old word meaning "herb." Mugwort preserves the term.

Excerpt from Cunningham's Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs More: Word Lists ⚜ Esoteric Vocabulary ⚜ On Magic

[thaoworra]

The Science Fiction and Fantasy Poetry Association recently released the poems that made it to the finalist stage for consideration for the 2024 Rhysling Awards for Short and Long Speculative Poems of the year. Congratulations to all of the nominees! This will be the 46th year these awards have been conferred!

Short Poems (50 finalists)

Attn: Prime Real Estate Opportunity!, Emily Ruth Verona, Under Her Eye: A Women in Horror Poetry Collection Volume II

The Beauty of Monsters, Angela Liu, Small Wonders 1

The Blight of Kezia, Patricia Gomes, HWA Poetry Showcase X

The Day We All Died, A Little, Lisa Timpf, Radon 5

Deadweight, Jack Cooper, Propel 7

Dear Mars, Susan L. Lin, The Sprawl Mag 1.2

Dispatches from the Dragon's Den, Mary Soon Lee, Star*Line 46.2

Dr. Jekyll, West Ambrose, Thin Veil Press December

First Eclipse: Chang-O and the Jade Hare, Emily Jiang, Uncanny 53

Five of Cups Considers Forgiveness, Ali Trotta, The Deadlands 31

Gods of the Garden, Steven Withrow, Spectral Realms 19

The Goth Girls' Gun Gang, Marisca Pichette, The Dread Machine 3.2

Guiding Star, Tim Jones, Remains to be Told: Dark Tales of Aotearoa, ed. Lee Murray (Clan Destine Press)

Hallucinations Gifted to Me by Heatstroke, Morgan L. Ventura, Banshee 15

hemiplegic migraine as willing human sacrifice, Ennis Rook Bashe, Eternal Haunted Summer Winter Solstice

Hi! I am your Cortical Update!, Mahaila Smith, Star*Line 46.3

How to Make the Animal Perfect?, Linda D. Addison, Weird Tales 100

I Dreamt They Cast a Trans Girl to Give Birth to the Demon, Jennessa Hester, HAD October

Invasive, Marcie Lynn Tentchoff, Polar Starlight 9

kan-da-ka, Nadaa Hussein, Apparition Lit 23

Language as a Form of Breath, Angel Leal, Apparition Lit October

The Lantern of September, Scott Couturier, Spectral Realms 19

Let Us Dream, Myna Chang, Small Wonders 3

The Magician's Foundling, Angel Leal, Heartlines Spec 2

The Man with the Stone Flute, Joshua St. Claire, Abyss & Apex 87

Mass-Market Affair, Casey Aimer, Star*Line 46.4

Mom's Surprise, Francis W. Alexander, Tales from the Moonlit Path June

A Murder of Crows, Alicia Hilton, Ice Queen 11

No One Now Remembers, Geoffrey Landis, Fantasy and Science Fiction Nov./Dec.

orion conquers the sky, Maria Zoccula, On Spec 33.2

Pines in the Wind, Karen Greenbaum-Maya, The Beautiful Leaves (Bamboo Dart Press)

The Poet Responds to an Invitation from the AI on the Moon, T.D. Walker, Radon Journal 5

A Prayer for the Surviving, Marisca Pichette, Haven Speculative 9

Pre-Nuptial, F. J. Bergmann, The Vampiricon (Mind's Eye Publications)

The Problem of Pain, Anna Cates, Eye on the Telescope 49

The Return of the Sauceress, F. J. Bergmann, The Flying Saucer Poetry Review February

Sea Change, David C. Kopaska-Merkel and Ann K. Schwader, Scifaikuest May

Seed of Power, Linda D. Addison, The Book of Witches ed. Jonathan Strahan (Harper Collins)

Sleeping Beauties, Carina Bissett, HWA Poetry Showcase X

Solar Punks, J. D. Harlock, The Dread Machine 3.1

Song of the Last Hour, Samuel A. Betiku, The Deadlands 22

Sphinx, Mary Soon Lee, Asimov's September/October

Storm Watchers (a drabbun), Terrie Leigh Relf, Space & Time

Sunflower Astronaut, Charlie Espinosa, Strange Horizons July

Three Hearts as One, G. O. Clark, Asimov's May/June

Troy, Carolyn Clink, Polar Starlight 12

Twenty-Fifth Wedding Anniversary, John Grey, Medusa's Kitchen September

Under World, Jacqueline West, Carmina Magazine September

Walking in the Starry World, John Philip Johnson, Orion's Belt May

Whispers in Ink, Angela Yuriko Smith, Whispers from Beyond (Crystal Lake Publishing)

Long Poems (25 finalists)

Archivist of a Lost World, Gerri Leen, Eccentric Orbits 4

As the witch burns, Marisca Pichette, Fantasy 87

Brigid the Poet, Adele Gardner, Eternal Haunted Summer Summer Solstice

Coding a Demi-griot (An Olivian Measure), Armoni “Monihymn” Boone, Fiyah 26

Cradling Fish, Laura Ma, Strange Horizons May

Dream Visions, Melissa Ridley Elmes, Eccentric Orbits 4

Eight Dwarfs on Planet X, Avra Margariti, Radon Journal 3

The Giants of Kandahar, Anna Cates, Abyss & Apex 88

How to Haunt a Northern Lake, Lora Gray, Uncanny 55

Impostor Syndrome, Robert Borski, Dreams and Nightmares 124

The Incessant Rain, Rhiannon Owens, Evermore 3

Interrogation About A Monster During Sleep Paralysis, Angela Liu, Strange Horizons November

Little Brown Changeling, Lauren Scharhag, Aphelion 283

A Mere Million Miles from Earth, John C. Mannone, Altered Reality April

Pilot, Akua Lezli Hope, Black Joy Unbound eds. Stephanie Andrea Allen & Lauren Cherelle (BLF Press)

Protocol, Jamie Simpher, Small Wonders 5

Sleep Dragon, Herb Kauderer, The Book of Sleep (Written Image Press)

Slow Dreaming, Herb Kauderer, The Book of Sleep (Written Image Press)

St. Sebastian Goes To Confession, West Ambrose, Mouthfeel 1

Value Measure, Joseph Halden and Rhonda Parrish, Dreams and Nightmares 125

A Weather of My Own Making, Nnadi Samuel, Silver Blade 56

Welcoming the New Girl, Beth Cato, Penumbric October

What You Find at the Center, Elizabeth R McClellan, Haven Spec Magazine 12

The Witch Makes Her To-Do List, Theodora Goss, Uncanny 50

The Year It Changed, David C. Kopaska-Merkel, Star*Line 46.4

Voting for the Rhysling Award begins July 1; a link to the ballot will be sent with the Rhysling Anthology, as well as with the July issue of Star*Line. More information on the Rhysling Award can be found here.

[breelandwalker]

Cold Moon - December 26, 2023

Bundle up, witches! It's time for the Cold Moon!

Cold Moon

The Cold Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of December, particularly appropriate this year as the full moon will occur late in the month, smack in the middle of the bleak midwinter.

This will be another month when the moon appears full for two nights in a row, so we'll have a full moon for Christmastime, with peak illumination on Dec 26th at 7:33pm EST. (A perfect aesthetic for those who are fans of the classic poem "A Visit From St Nicholas" aka "Twas the Night Before Christmas." Personally, I'm holding out hope that we'll have the snowy conditions to match, though it's a long shot.)

Like most full moon names, the Cold Moon takes its' moniker from an English translation of a traditional name used by one or more North American indigenous groups. There are a number of indigenous names that reference the wintry conditions when this moon occurs, including Snow Moon (Haida, Cherokee), Winter Moon (Tunica-Biloxi), Hoar Frost Moon (Cree), and Long Night Moon (Mohican). More evocative names include Frost Exploding Trees Moon (Cree) and Moon of the Popping Trees (Oglala), both of which refer to a phenomenon which occurs during extreme cold, when the sap inside a tree freezes and the expanding pressure causes portions of the bark or even entire limbs to "pop" with loud cracking sounds that can be heard for miles.

Other names for the December moon include Yule Moon (Norse origins), Oak Moon (Celtic origins), and Bitter Moon (Chinese origins).

What Does It Mean For Witches?

The year is winding down. It's time to wrap up our projects and put aside what we haven't finished or no longer need. Rather than berating ourselves for the things we didn't finish or didn't accomplish, this is a time to give ourselves some grace and celebrate our successes and triumphs and the things we DID accomplish.

With only one page left on the calendar, many of us are already looking ahead to the new year, making plans and setting goals. This is a good time to brainstorm and engage in a bit of broad-view planning. Sketch out the things you'd like to see or do or try in the new year. Give voice to your dreams and start thinking of ways to make them happen.

The Cold Moon also falls soon after the winter solstice this year (Dec 21), which could be a boon for anyone looking to time their seasonal rituals in optimal fashion. A working could be begun on the solstice and built up to culminate on the night of the Cold Moon, just before the start of a new calendar year.

What Witchy Things Can We Do?

Have a small supper gathering with friends or family (holiday themed or not, it's up to you) to share joys and fellowship and enjoy good food and drink. Make wishes together for the new year. (Wish jars can be done individually or as an informal group ritual. Sharing wishes anonymously can be a fun party game.) A "White Elephant" gift exchange with inexpensive or homemade witchy goods for your circle could be fun too!

Make a wish jar for the new year on the winter solstice and put it out to charge under the Cold Moon. Cleanse any of your tools or crystals or accoutrements that you use moonlight for one more time this year.

This is the perfect time for divinations and goalsetting for the coming year. Pull out your favorite divination tools and your 2024 planner and sketch out the coming year. You can also try candle wax divination with holiday candles, if that's something that interests you.

Also, save those seasonal bayberry candles for future use! They're great for debt repayment and money-drawing spells.

If you need some ideas for a fun family activity, you can feed the birds for good luck, either with scattered birdseed or pinecone birdfeeders. String dried fruit slices, cinnamon sticks, pinecones, holly leaves and berries, and other seasonal faves to make garlands. Stick apples or oranges or clementines full of cloves in pretty patterns to make pomanders.

Use those fibre arts skills to create a special piece to keep your home warm and safe and well-supplied until spring. It doesn't have to be anything big - a simple weaving or single square will do. Crochet or cut out snowflakes for your home decor. If you want to get fancy, pick up a ball of cotton warp thread and look for old doily patterns - they look great as hoop weavings hung on the wall (or make a witch web in winter colors).

Make one more batch of moonwater to carry you through to the new year. If it happens to snow or freeze where you live, you can save clean snow or icicles for special (non-drinkable) elemental water, which can be a fun base for moonwater as well.

And speaking of elements, make sure to remember in all your seasonal decorating that fire safety is paramount. Be careful with your candles, warmers, light strings, plugs, extension cords, and cables. DO NOT "daisy chain" your extension cords or power strips. Never leave candles or wax warmers or simmer pots unattended, and turn off your holiday lights before bedtime. Safety first, witches!

Thanks for joining me for this exploration of full moon magic. See you next year!

Happy Cold Moon, witches! 🌕🧊

Further Reading:

Additional Lunar Calendar posts

Moon Rise Calculator - The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Cold Moon: Full Moon in December 2023, The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Full Moon December 2023: Illuminating the Cold Moon's Spiritual Meaning, The Peculiar Brunette.

How Do Trees Survive The Winter?, National Forest Foundation.

How to Make Pomander Balls, The Old Farmer's Almanac.

Fun Kid's Activity: Winter Pinecone Bird Feeder, Audubon Southwest.

Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison, Llewellyn Publications, 2004.

(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)

[syrupfog]

The Tang explodes and the crew swims to safety. It takes days to find a habitable island, much less some place they can stop and rest and start to rebuild (and wait for Law). 

They end up on a small island with a large population, because this island is built to be one thing;

It’s a college town. 

PLOT TWIST THE HEART CREW UNIVERSITY SLICE OF LIFE TIME. 

They have to enroll to be given a loan, and that loan is how they’re able to afford a shitty little frat house, recently vacated because of a rat infestation.

Nineteen crew members. Five rooms. There’s already a beer pong table up when they move in. 

None of these guys have completed secondary school. Sure, most of them could pass a medical entrance exam, but they couldn’t write an essay on why the curtains are blue. Or do geometry.

Everyone has to find jobs. Penguin, Shachi, and Jean Bart end up at a coffee shop. Ikkaku works at the textbook store. Hakugan flips signs on a street corner. 

Penguin actually really enjoys latte art. The job doesn’t call for it, he just likes it.

Because no one has any university experience (why would they?) they try to all take the same major, to help each other out. After an argument they end up split down the middle; half of them go for history, the other half go for agriculture.

Penguin and Shachi, agriculture majors, end up pulling shifts on the school’s farm before the sun comes up, THEN working at the coffee shop when it opens at dawn. Jean Bart managed to make manager. 

The Tang isn’t FORGOTTEN, but… they need to get good enough grades not to drop.

If they drop they have to pay the loans back. 

So for a few months, everyone goes to class and works and studies. The house smells like beer and piss no matter how hard they clean. 

And then, one day… 

Kid and Killer wash up onto the island.

Kid refuses to sign up for university. That’s how Hakugan finds them— he hears the yelling from where he’s flipping a sign for pizzas. He alerts everyone else. 

Killer does not have such reservations. He signs up on the spot. Poetry.

After a quick house meeting, the Hearts offer for Kid and Killer to sleep on their sofa. The two of them look… worse for wear. And a familiar face is nice. Everyone here at uni is… well, they’re very normal. 

Kid doesn’t want to. But Killer accepts for the both of them.

Penguin helps Killer learn the bus system AND gets him a job at the coffee shop. It’s almost impressive there were so many free positions at this place, but… Penguin’s been sprayed in the face with hot espresso from the machines and yelled at by customers. A lot. He gets it.

He shows Killer how to make latte art, though. Killer turns in a poem about it. His professor calls it cliche but it gets him a passing grade. And so, three more months pass. The winter solstice arrives. Everyone goes home for the holiday, veritably abandoning the island.

Suddenly it’s just the Hearts and the Kids. 

They make snowmen and snow angels and exchange terrible presents because they’re poor university students. 

And on the day of the winter solstice, two new people wash up on the shore.

The Heart pirates only know because Penguin and Killer are taking a, ahem, private walk. 

But there they are, passed out on the beach. Rough, but alive. 

Penguin screeches, cries. Killer carries both bodies, hanging over his shoulders, back to the house.

Thus, when the next semester starts, Law and Bepo enroll in class. 

Because, like, while they’re hiding out and rebuilding, Law might as well get a real medical license, right?

(He doesn’t; he shambles a student to pieces two weeks into the semester because she was insulting the new pirate king, and then they have to beat a swift exit before the loan sharks come, but Jean Bart at least has been working on the Tang 2 and at least its sea worthy).

(Kid and Killer come along for the ride, because hell if Kid is going to STAY in a UNIVERSITY it fuckign SUCKS THERE) 

(Also cause Penguin and Killer kiss a lot)

[dreaming-medium]

Animals Without Direction

Chapter Three - Red and Gold Throw Pillows

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Masterlist

Is this a prison sentence? No, if it was a prison sentence, you would be in a cell, bound and chained. 

If it was a prison sentence, you wouldn’t have had the ropes removed from your wrists to shake hands with Bang Chan, Jarl of Miroh. 

If it was a prison sentence, you wouldn’t be being led throughout the keep by the Jarl’s squire to your room. 

And if it was a prison sentence, you most certainly would not be thinking about if you were allowed access to the collection of books that decorate every shelf in the building.

“Miroh is pleasant this time of year,” Jeongin’s voice brings you out of your head. “The Harvest Festival is in a few weeks.”

Erbus had only two festivals: one for the Summer Solstice and one for the Winter Solstice. Even then, the celebrations were scarce. 

Based on what your mother used to tell you, the celebrations used to be poem worthy. People would dance in the streets, food covered every inch of the tables, songs would be sung for the entire night and into the next morning.

Not anymore. Now they were merely a formality. Some shopkeepers would set up their wares outside the store. A few taverns would serve a special dish, perhaps charge half price for ale. 

Once Elves were banished, everything took a turn for the worst in Erbus. 

“I have never heard of The Harvest Festival.” You answered Jeongin. You might as well attempt to be civil with him; you still feel bad for that nasty kick to the stomach. 

Also, if this is your new life, may as well make friends. 

Jeongin looked over at you surprised, “Really? I thought all kingdoms on the continent celebrated The Harvest Festival.”

“Nay, not in Erbus.”

Jeongin nodded, “Do you enjoy celebrations?”

You thought for a moment, keeping your eyes in front of you to watch where you were walking. “I do, I enjoy them very much.”

“Then you will love The Harvest Festival.”

A small smile creeps over your face. “I trust your word then.”

After climbing a set of steps, Jeongin takes you down a hallway with doors lining the walls.

“This is where higher level positions of the court sleep. Lord Minho, Felix, and Sir Changbin’s rooms are here as well.” 

Looking at each door, they all looked the same. Except for one door that had a floral wreath on the front of it. Orange and purple flowers blooming on the ring. 

“Is that Felix’s room?”

“Aye, perceptive, my Lady.”

“Oh,” you scoff, “I am no Lady. Please refer to me casually.”

Jeongin smiles and nods. When you look at him, you see the little dimples in his cheeks and it makes your heart melt. He looks so boyish when he smiles. 

“Here we are then.” He says, opening one of the doors. The door directly next to Felix’s. 

“I am to sleep up here?” You asked incredulously. 

Jeongin blinked at you, “You are the Jarl’s mercenary, of course.” 

He said it like it was the most obvious statement ever. 

Truly, you were expecting to be put into a shared room littered with cots and one chest to put your belongings. Maybe if you were lucky there would be a divider between beds for some privacy. 

“I…” your voice got caught in your throat, “I have my own room?”

Jeongin just stares at you as if you have three heads. His hand is still on the doorknob, keeping the door open. 

“Yes, Y/N.” He smiles, it reaches his eyes, “You have your own room.”

Finally, you look away from him and into the room. The sun is setting, bathing the space in a brilliant orange and pink light. From your position in the hallway, you’re only able to see the foot of the bed and straight to the grand window on the opposite wall from the door. 

It overlooked the heart of Miroh’s capital. In front of the window there was a cushioned bench tucked against it, creating a perfect nook to sit in. Various throw blankets draped over the red pillows. 

Jeongin watched your face with a hint of his own amusement before stepping into the room and motioning for you to follow him. 

Slowly, you let your feet bring you inside. It’s already warm, but not in an uncomfortable way. In a ‘blanket wrapped around your shoulders’ way. 

That warmth was coming from the small fireplace inside the wall opposite the bed. 

The large bed sat against the left wall, jutting out into the room. A large, fabric canopy covered the mattress. You had seen drawings of beds like this in books before. Usually princesses slept upon them.

The softest of linens covered the mattress with at least eight pillows on top of it. At the foot of the bed was a large wooden chest, a circular rug underneath it. 

On the other side of the bed, to the left of the window, was a vanity. A plush stool tucked underneath it. 

Reds and golds decorated every cloth in the room in a regal manor. 

Your feet carried you towards the bed, fingers reaching down and running over the blankets. It’s so soft you could cry. 

On either side of the fireplace were two large bookcases. The shelves were scarce, which, to you, meant endless possibilities. A wardrobe against the wall next to the door. 

The flames in the hearth lick up the walls and crackle in a comforting manor. 

Is this truly Miroh? This is the same Miroh that you were warned about? 

Back when you were a child, when you would play pretend with the other kids, the evil monsters were always from Miroh.

“I never had my own bedroom before.” You whisper quietly, keeping your hand on the blankets. “Even as a youngling, the house my family lived in had one room. There was one table, one cooking spit, and one bed.”

Jeongin stands by the door, his lips press together in a thin line as if he doesn’t know what to say. He only watches you move around with a sympathetic look to him. 

“Up until today, I slept on a bedroll every night, the night sky was my ceiling. Most summers I would save my coin so that I may pay for a room in the inn on those blustering winter nights where I just couldn’t take the cold.”

Sitting down on the side of the bed, you let yourself feel the softness underneath your body. 

Every night, you’ll get to sleep on this bed every single night. 

Your fingers glide over the fabric, it feels so luxurious and divine. The pillows look so soft. 

“Well,” Jeongin grabs your attention, “I will leave you to decompress. I believe you’ve had a long day.”

The joke pushes a laugh from your chest. 

“If you are looking to train at all, you could always join us on the training grounds tomorrow. The guards and soldiers all train together at first light.”

“You train with the guards?”

“Aye, even a Jarl’s squire needs to practice his sword arm.”

You smile at him, “I’ll consider it.” There’s a pause. “I apologize for the kick, Jeongin.” You apologize bashfully.

The squire simply laughs, it sounds so genuine. “No need, really. If anything, I should be appealing to you to teach me some of your abilities.”

“If I decide to show my face on the training grounds, I’ll practice with you as my apology.”

Jeongin smiles back at you and nods. “I’m holding you to that.” He laughs, “I will leave you to it then. If you ever need to find me, my quarters are down by the armory.”

You watch him turn to leave before a thought comes to your head. “Oh, Jeongin!” You catch his attention, he whips around to look at you. “Do– ah– are we able to get food somewhere?”

He chuckles, “The kitchens are always open. Help yourself.”

You nod a thank you and he leaves, the door clicking shut behind him. 

There’s a few moments where you sit there, listening to Jeongin’s footsteps fade away. 

Is this real? Are you going to wake up any second now and you’re going to be chained to a torture table to be drawn and quartered? 

Quickly, you reach over and pinch your arm. 

No, this is real. The small sting of pain fades almost immediately. 

Your room. This is your room. 

Your body falls backwards onto the bed and your hands cover your face. A bright smile stretching over your lips no matter how much you try to stop yourself. Bubbling laughter comes from your chest and you cover your mouth to stop it.

How is this even possible?

The plushness of the mattress keeps you there for an undetermined amount of time. It’s like the furniture came with invisible arms, keeping you wrapped up in its tight embrace. It’s the comfiest thing you’ve ever laid on.

The sunlight in your room begins to shift and darken as the day passes. You simply lay there with your eyes closed. Not quite sleeping, but also not quite awake. 

Three quick knocks at your door brings you out of your dream-like state.

Slowly, you stand up and make your way towards the door. Who could that be?

When you pull open the door, you peak outside warily and you’re met with with a ray of sunshine. 

Felix’s smile immediately brings the sun back into your room and you open the door a bit wider to greet him. 

“Y/N,” he smiles even brighter, “I believe I promised you the safe return of your belongings.”

When you look down, you notice a bundle of armor with a sword on top. A small sigh of relief comes out as you grab everything from him. 

“Thank you very much, Felix.”

“It is no trouble at all. I am relived to see you in front of me, I have to say.”

“Oh?” You ask, turning around. You walk back into your room, leaving the door open for Felix to come in. The cleric follows after you, but sticks close to the door. 

“Aye, some part of me worried that you would not take kindly to the Jarl’s offer.” He admits. 

“It is not like I had a choice,” you mumble, setting your armor down on top of the chest. “It was either take the deal or be tried and hung.”

Felix makes a noise that he agrees with you, a small laugh coming after it. 

A comfortable silence settles over the two of you as you take your sword in your hands, pulling it from its sheath slightly to inspect it. 

Sliding the sword back in, you lean it against your bed. 

“Y/N.” Felix’s voice catches your attention. 

Without turning to look at him, you answer, “Yes, Felix?”

“Are you certain you took a tonic?”

Your heart thuds against your chest, a chill ripping through your arms. But you don’t show any sort of reaction, you take it in stride. 

“Quite. I had picked it up from an alchemist a few weeks ago. It proved quite useful, no?”

“It is just…” When Felix trails off, that’s when you choose to look at him. His bottom lip caught between his teeth, eyes watching the fire dance. “In my years of study, I have never seen a regenerative tonic have effects longer than an hour. If you were to have taken it before-“ he cuts himself off, sighing and finally looking back at you. 

Those blue eyes. It looks like they see right through you. It’s a miracle you don’t begin squirming. 

“Do you remember which alchemist you purchased it from? Perhaps I can study it?”

Quickly, you shook your head. “I’m afraid I do not. They were a traveling merchant I met on the roads of Erbus.”

The lies fell through your teeth too easily. This was more than lying, though, it was self preservation. 

Felix stares at you for a long moment, an emotion flickers behind his eyes briefly, his eyebrows twitched and his lip quivered. 

“I see. I fear it may be hard to obtain this tonic again, then. You see, I never travel to Erbus, I go out of my way not to.”

Your eyebrows pull together and your body turns towards his. “Felix?”

“Have a great night, Y/N.” 

Without another word, Felix turns on a heel and quickly walks out of your room, closing the door behind him. 

“That was… odd…” you whisper to yourself, staring at the door.  ----------------------------------------------

You waited until the moon was in the sky for at least 4 hours before venturing out of your room to find the kitchens. If you waited any longer, your stomach may have eaten itself. 

The only problem was that you had absolutely no idea where you were going. Every single hallway in this keep looked identical. 

Sconces with lit candles sat between windows that allowed moonlight to stream in. Deep red curtains hung on either side of each window.

Occasionally you would see a small table with two chairs on either side, a candle or a bundle of flowers would be on top. 

And of course, shelves upon shelves of books. 

Most of the titles you had never even heard of. Some were in different languages and others appeared to be sold old as if they were stolen from tombs of the ancient. 

You were stopped in front of one of the many windows, looking outside to what looked like the gardens. 

Even at night, some of them seemed to glow. Perhaps Felix had some part of that, they looked like the flowers that hung in the healing ward. 

A large stone fountain sat in the middle of a light cobblestone path, lined with beautiful rose bushes. The flowers were no longer in bloom, but you were able to identify them, even from this distance.

When you turned on your heel to leave, you accidentally smacked right into a body. A startled yelp leaving your lips. 

“By The Six, I apologize. I usually have my bearings.” You say quickly, looking at who you ran into. His hands hot shot out to grab your arms to keep you steady. 

He was tall, dressed in the same black leather armor that Minho was wearing earlier. Straighter brown hair hung over his forehead and stopped right above a sharp set of eyes. His lips were pulled in a straight line. 

“You must be the mercenary then.” His voice is low, and if you’re being honest, much softer than you were expecting. 

With the way his eyes track even the smallest movement you make, you expected his voice to be harsh.

“I am. I hope what you’ve heard is not too cruel.”

He takes his hands away, but you can still feel the warmth of where he grabbed them.

“What I heard is that an outsider came into Miroh, slaughtered four men in an extraordinary fashion, and was then offered a job.”

“I—“ you open your mouth to defend yourself but he cuts you off again. 

“I must say, I could not wait to see you for myself. It is not every day we have such excitement within the keep, nonetheless receive a new court member.” A smirk crosses his face and your mouth snaps shut. “My position is similar to yours, except when the Jarl sends me on jobs, no one knows about it.”

“A rogue, then?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. Your arms come up and cross over your chest. 

“Aye, you may call it that.”

“You and I are two sides of the same coin then.” A smirk on your face mirrors his for a moment. His sneaky, playful nature seems to have rubbed off on you rather quickly. 

“It seems that way.” 

The two of you study each other for a moment.

“You have a name?” You ask.

“Seungmin.”

“Can you do me a favor, Seungmin?” His response to you is a lift of the brow. “Can you please show me where the kitchens are in this maze of a castle.”

A soft chuckle comes from his chest and the corners of his lips twitch. “Aye, I can do that.”

Without another word, Seungmin turns on his heel and walks in another direction. “Let’s go, Y/N.” ----------------------------------------------

“Erbus? I do not see why you were so adamant on returning there.” Seungmin scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He was leaning against one of the countertops in the kitchens. 

The staff went to sleep hours ago, leaving the ingredients to you. Instead of actually making something, you chose to sample some of the bread and cheese that was available.

“Perhaps it is not the best, but it is where I was born and raised.” you answered, taking a bite out of the loaf of bread in your hand. 

Seungmin was holding the other half in his. He took a bite. “I have heard naught but cruelty and stories of woe from Erbus.”

“I have only heard the same of Miroh. My father used to tell me that the former Jarl was going to come get me during the night if I did not finish my chores.”

The rogue laughs under his breath. “We had similar stories about Erbus. As a youngling I was told that one of the villages was constantly bathed in flame.”

You bite your bread, “We do,” you tease, “it is awfully hot there this time of year.” The quick joke falls from your lips and is well received by the rogue, who lets out another easy chuckle.

“Are you always awake this late Seungmin?”

“Nay, I was departing for an assignment when I ran into you.”

Your jaw falls open, a bit shocked at his statement. “I apologize, I did not mean to distract you.”

He held up his hand to stop your rambling. 

“It is quite alright, a quick detour to the kitchens will not cause my quest to fail.”

You let out a small breath before taking another bite of your bread. “Are you able to tell me what your mission is?”

Seungmin only smiles, “Of course not, silly mercenary. I would not even want to tell you and bore you with all the details.”

He pushes his weight off the counter and walks towards the door, passing you on the way out. Seungmin’s shoulder brushes lightly against yours as he passes you. “I trust you can find your way back to your chambers?”

“Probably not, but I will find it eventually.”

“Have a great night, Y/N. Speak soon.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you to your own thoughts once more. Every time you enter a new part of the keep, you’re met with a new face. 

With the bread now in your stomach, you turn and fill a mug with some fresh water and take a long sip.

It’s your first night in Miroh. The first night of many to come it seems. When do you suppose that the Jarl will give you your first mission? What sort of quests is he going to send you out on anyway?

He’s the Jarl of the entire hold, what would he need you for that he cannot send out guards?

It wasn’t until you finished the mug of water that you realized how thirsty you were. When was the last time you had a sip of water? Most likely this morning when you and Guatier came to the hold.

That was another thing, what ever happened to him?

You assume he was killed based upon what they tried to do with you. But killing him seems too nice for what he did to them.

Perhaps he was down in their dungeons.

That was a question for another day.

Tomorrow, you’ll take Jeongin up on that offer to train with him and the rest of the guards. 

But, for right now there was an enormous, cozy, warm mattress in your own personal bedroom waiting for you to rest your head in. 

That was if you ever found your room again. 

[shadowsandlint]

Fic Masterlist

Hello! I'm ShadowsAndLint, or SL if you will, and I write fanfiction on AO3. It's mostly Azris, but I have also dabbled in a couple others with Nesta and Gwyn. My venture into acotar fics began in November last year, and now I would like to formally introduce myself on Tumblr. So hi! I hope we can be friends, and that you'll check out my writing. :)

I have two works in progress, and instead of continuing them, I put this together. Ooops!

Your Scars on My Pulse

WIP from Azrisweek 2024. 9/10 chapters, 22,951 words. NSFW.

Eris feels like he's going crazy from his newfound obsession with the shadowsinger since the male wrapped his rough hands around his neck at the High Lord Meeting. After finding Azriel snooping around in the forests of Autumn, they strike a bargain that ensures an unsteady alliance between the two. While they grow friendlier by each encounter, and the shadowsinger's essence is getting increasingly harder to resist, Eris can't help but feel the male is hiding something. And he'll be damned if he can't figure out what.

Words We Use in the Shadows

This is my main work in progress, and a modern university AU. Also featuring the bat boys band Shadows, with Azriel as their singer. Lots of angst, eventual smut.

Azris dual POV, 23/30-ish chapters, 57,333 words.

Azriel is a quiet literature student, completely content with not standing out, until one day a poem about him is posted to the university bulletin board. In his hunt for the culprit, he enlists the help of classmates Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie, all the while keeping his bandmates Rhys and Cassian from finding out he is exchanging poems with a secret admirer. Who is this pompous ass that flirts by writing poetry?

Autumn Winds Across the Sea

Poetic Azris oneshot. 2,618 words. My favorite piece of writing.

Eris is spread out on the ground close to a precipice that falls into the Eastern Sea, his back a mess from one of his father's torture sessions. When the Night Court shadowsinger happens upon him, he is too exhausted to keep up the cruel heir mask. Being faced with a version of Eris he has never seen before, Azriel is forced to see the male in a new light.

Color Me Blue

Gwynriel oneshot, 1,343 words. TW: Mentions of rape.

Sorting through her hazy memories of the night Hybern sacked the temple, Gwyn lets herself freeze to keep from feeling the hurt. When she eventually thaws, she finds her mind occupied with the male that saved her. Meeting him again, her whole world changes.

O Holy Night! The Stars Are Brightly Shining

Part I of II in The Solstice Present. POV Azriel, 1,324 words.

It's the Winter Solstice, and the Inner Circle is celebrating in their usual style. Azriel feels like an outsider to his family's happiness, and is unable to share fully in their joy.

But when he comes home, a small surprise is able to lift his spirits.

O Night Devine!

Part II of The Solstice Present. POV Eris, 2,085 words.

Eris Vanserra is forced to play the part of obedient son when participating in the Autumn Court's official Solstice dinner. He hates the masks he must wear, remembering a time in the past year when he had been able to be more himself. Under the guise of commemorating Solstice, he decides to send a gift to someone he feels indebted to. But he is not so sure that is the only reason.

A Court of Self-Destructive Coping Mechanisms

Angsty Nesta-centric fic with one OC. 5 chapters, 8,263 words.

This is the part of Nesta's story that falls between book three and five, which is alluded to in both ACOFAS & ACOSF.

Nesta is struggling with depression and trauma from the war with Hybern. She is retracting further and further into herself, pushing everyone away and developing some self destructive coping mechanisms. The story begins when Nesta decides to invite that first male into her bed.

[carlos-tk]

inspiration weekend

thanks for the tags @heartstringsduet @sznofthesticks @lemonlyman-dotcom @chicgeekgirl89 @strandnreyes @alrightbuckaroo @thisbuildinghasfeelings 💖

excerpts from ‘small poem for the winter solstice’ and ‘bluejays’ by margaret atwood

open tag + @liminalmemories21 @welcometololaland @freneticfloetry @celeritas2997 @vineofroses @rmd-writes @bonheur-cafe @mikibwrites

[fernthewhimsical]

Hopepunk Primer pt. 4

Hopepunk and Magic

So what can we do as witches or practitioners to embrace hopepunk into our path?

Cast spells for hope. If you've lost hope yourself, or want to spread the hope for others, cast spells to spread the light in the dark. Good days for this would be Imbolc, for new life and hope, and the new or waxing moon crescent, for new beginnings and hope.

Celebrate hope with a festival. As mentioned above Imbolc is a good one with it's return of life. But I personally have started celebrating a festival which I call "Hope's Light" on the Winter Solstice. When it is darkest is when we must remember to have hope that better days and change will come. I light candles, have a LOTR extended marathon and make lots of hobbitty comfort food.

Magic for resistance. Lets not forget the "punk" part of hopepunk and use our magic to fight oppression, bring change, and fuel our activism. Especially spellwork that is organized and worked by people all over the world at roughly the same time to bring the change we hope to see. Some books to look into are: Witchcraft Activism: a Toolkit for Magical Resistance by David Salisbury, Revolutionary Witchcraft: a Guide to Magical Activism by Sarah Lyons, the New Aradia: a Witch's Handbook for Magical Resistance by Laura Tempest Zakroff (whose website also has many sigils for resistance and community work), and Magic for the Resistance: Rituals and Spells for Change by Michael M. Hughes

Magic for community. To bring people together, to foster abundance and hope, or spells for protection. Magic to strengthen the community (whether big or small, whether your neighbourhood or the entirety of the LGBTQIA+ community) is essential to hopepunk magic

Magic for the home. Hope begins at home, and it is so important to create a place where people can feel safe, cared for, rest, and recharge. A home filled with love and care and authenticity.

Shadow work. Choosing to see hope in the world is not easy. Hope is not always easy. As the Tumblr poem goes: "Hope is a weapon, Hope is a skill, Hope is a plant you can care for or kill. Hope is a discipline, something you choose, Hard to stop looking for, easy to lose. Hope isn't something to have or to take, If you can't find it, it's something you make. Make it from willpower, make if from spite, Learn how to weaponise love in a fight. Hope is a shield, and a thing to defend, End in itself, and a means to an end." [9] For a lot of us hope is difficult. We are being bombarded with hopelessness each and every day. A lot of us have not had it easy earlier in life. So perhaps hope is something that seems to ephemeral, too wishy-washy, too "nice". Even though hope can be something you cling you with every inch of fight you have in you. Shadow work can help us work through our feelings of both hopelessness and hope, opening the doors to wonder and change.

The Star Tarot card. The Star card symbolizes hope, faith, renewal, and discovering your core self. Pretty hopepunk I would say! Working with the Star in spellwork and divination is a way to connect to hope and authenticity. Use the Star card as a focus for spellwork, or shuffle your deck and find the Star. The card above it is how you can foster your hope, the card below it is what is blocking it.

Affirmations. These can be a way to open your heart and mind to hope. Affirmations are powerful, positive statements to change the stories we tell ourselves. Some examples could be:

I breathe in hope, I breathe out fear

I am filled with hope

My hope motivates me to act

My hope is a powerful force

I choose to be hopeful

Hope shows me a better future

My hope is a light to see by

I choose hope over fear, always

Hope empowers me to push through difficulties

I am a warrior of hope, never backing down

I am resilient, and hope fuels my perseverance [10]

Hopepunk and Symbols

Dove and olive branch - Christian mythology. A dove carrying an olive branch was the sign given to Noah that land was near and the floods were passed. Rainbows - rainbows appear after rain and storms, showing that there is hope during darker periods and colour will appear again Butterflies - change and transformation Seedlings - new life Anchor - Christian symbolism, often in combination with a heart and a cross, representing faith, love, and hope Sunrise - dawn, a new day Shamrock - the three leaves are thought to represent faith, love, and hope Almond blossoms - was the first tree to flower in Israël and as such a symbol of hope in Judaism. In Greek it also signified hope, beauty, and fertility and were showered over the heads of newlyweds Candle, lighthouse, and stars - a light in the dark Phoenix - rebirth and a new start [12]

Flowers and herbs that symbolize hope: [13] Cornflower - hope in love Hawthorn - hope Clover - hope and good luck Mistletoe - hope during darkness Snowdrop - hope, better and easier days are coming Aster - hope, light, like a star Chrysanthemum - hope, happiness Iris - hope, linked to the Goddess of the Rainbow Narcissus, hope, beginnings, new life Verbena - hope in darkness Violet - hope and faithfulness Primrose - hope amidst despair Marigold - light, hope Dandelions - hope, resistance, flourishing through concrete Myrtle - hope, happiness, jou Evergreens such as ivy, pine, spar - hope

Crystals that symbolize hope: [14] Blue quartz - inspires hope and creativity Moss agate - abundance and hope Amazonite - hope, growth, success, luck Blue lace agate - hope, peace, trust Citrine - hope, optimism, success Opal - fosters hope Fire opal - personal power, inner fire, hope Garnet - brings courage and hope when things seem hopeless

[9] Tumblr Hope Poem [10] Happier Human and the Goal Chaser [11] Wikipedia, the pages of the respective spirits [12] Symbolsage and the Mindful Space [13] Floriography by Jessica Roux the Complete Language of Flowers by Theresa S. Dietz the Complete Language of Herbs by Theresa S. Dietz [14] The Crystal Bible I and II by Judy Hall Crystal Magic by Sandra Kynes

Part 1: Intro and history Part 2: Philosophy of Hopepunk Part 3: How to practice hopepunk and further reading Part 4: Extra! Hopepunk and magic

[noelcollection]

Dress for a day

Some of us may have already changed out our wardrobe from winter to summer and are desperate to get those fold lines out of those linen trousers or fluff out that favorite sundress. Though working in a rare book and special collection, we always have a pullover or jumper on hand. Regardless, today we are discussing June and June 1st happens to be “wear a dress day” and in the realm of modern fashion, dresses are not just bound to ladies anymore!

The month of June may be best known for being named after the Roman goddess Juno (also known as Hera). Depending on where you live, June marks the official beginning of summer for the northern hemisphere with the Summer solstice. For southern Hampshire, it is the beginning of winter and the winter solstice. So, whether you are airing out summer or winter dresses, the first is dedicated to dresses for all occasions. The dress can be a simple or complex garment, as well as, formal or casual; but the garment associated with being a dress has been traced back to Egyptians. This particular garment has been traced back to five thousand years and is called the Tarkhan dress which is made of simple linen. The earliest and oldest example of the Tarkhan dress was found in the early 1900s during a tomb excavation and was bundled up with other fabrics that went unnoticed until 1977 when the floor-length shirt was unfurled from this bundle. The description is similar to the simple shift worn under complex attire. The thin linen shift would protect the skin from the rub of corsets and hoop skirts as their popularity grew in fashionable society. 

The item from the James Smith Noel Collection being featured for this post features hand-colored plates from a lady’s magazine. The Ladies’ Cabinet of Fashion, Music and Romance (https://bit.ly/3MJtcZv) was printed out of London, England as a small monthly serial series that featured romance stories, poems, and French fashions. The reception of the plates from an artistic lens were not well respected, however, the dresses featured are for the summer to winter season for all occasions which are labeled. The fashions of 1835 differ greatly from the earliest fashions of Egypt and also the fashions of today. We have shed the layers of the garment of yesteryear and introduced the lady’s trousers and even men can wear a dress. Fashion is ever changing and repeating with society.

[mournfulroses]

Margaret Atwood, from True Stories: Poems; "Small Poem for the Winter Solstice," originally published in 1981

[ahaura]

Margaret Atwood True Stories “Small Poems for the Winter Solstice”

[mistresslrigtar]

2023 Master Work List

12 chapter alt rock musical - (complete)

Start reading HERE

Summary: On the verge of burnout as graduation approaches, Zelda’s friend, Mipha, encourages her to take a night off to go see a local college alt-rock band. That is when Zelda sees Link, the band’s bass guitarist for the first time and falls hard; but when her insecurity and Link’s best friend Ganondorf's drug addiction threatens their budding relationship, Zelda must learn to trust Link, and more importantly herself.

Multiple-shot WIP. Read Can't Take My Eyes Off You - a New Year's Eve story set in the I Belong to You universe.

On the night of her father, Rauru’s New Year’s Eve party, Zelda pines for Link, who’s been on tour with his band, Hyrule Warriors.

All I Want is You - an ABC Family/Hallmark movie inspired Twilight Princess Zelink ficlet dropping just in time for Winter Solstice.

Read HERE

Summary: Link and Zelda come from two different worlds. When those worlds collide at the first annual Winterzauber in Hyrule, they’ll find that titles and stations have no meaning when it comes to true love.

Adore - eight-chapter Hylink origin story written for @zelinkcommunity's Zelink Week 2023.

Read here

Summary: Link is an embittered soldier fighting a losing battle in a holy war against the Demon King Demise, who is determined to claim Hyrule and the Triforce. When the goddess, Hylia, reenters his life, his hope for victory is renewed. Their reunion rekindles their love for each other, but will it be enough to emerge victorious?

Love in the Age of Calamity (complete) - This is my first piece, and not nearly as polished as later works.

Read HERE

Summary: All the incarnations of the hero’s soul, waiting for this perfect moment when they were no longer star-crossed but goddess blessed. After ten millennia of longing and being denied, the sword sings in his ears as Zelda melts in his arms.

This is the love story that fills in the blanks of the captured memories, that hinted at so much more that may have occurred outside those events.

Companion Pieces to Love in the Age of Calamity

Read Snowy Recollections (updated 6/26/23)- Link could not help but wonder how he was supposed to save this world if he could not remember his own past or why he had been chosen in the first place. Maybe he was going about things the wrong way. Perhaps, instead of trying to force himself to remember important pivotal moments, he needed to focus on remembering small things, like his favorite color, and possibly, if he could grasp a simple recollection, the bigger ones would come in time.

Read Coming to Her Senses - free form poem written for Zelinktines 23 prompt It's been awhile...

One-Shots:

Read Without Her - An introspective Link piece, reflecting on his love for Zelda no matter what form she is - human or dragon. Written for bahbahhh's 1200 follower DTIYS prompt

Read Let Me Kiss You - You never forget your first kiss. It's a moment you'll hold close. A Link/Sheik one-shot. Written for ZeldaElmo's 1000 Follower prompt Just After Midnight.

Read Can't Do This Again - Brief introspective piece. Link wakes up on the Great Sky Island, in a chamber reminiscent of the Shrine of Resurrection, and one of his first thoughts is that he can't do it again.

Read A New Tradition (written for Zelinktines23 prompt Butterfly Kisses)(Chapter 8 to my Zelink week Adore) - In Skyloft, your treasured Loftwing welcomes your newborn into the world with gentle brushes on the baby's cheeks with the tips of its wings. Without Loftwings on the surface, what can Link do to recreate the Skyloftian tradition?

Read Enjoy the Silence - Zelda vows to stand up for Link the next time Revali is disrespectful, which leads to her having a small breakdown. Link comforts her, and Zelda realizes how much she enjoys the silence (that maybe isn't so quiet, depending on how you look at it) Link brings to her life.

[violettesiren]

A clean page: what shines in you is not nothing though equally clear & blue

and I’m old enough to know I ought to give up wanting to touch that shining.

What shines anyway? Stars, cut glass, and water, and you in your serene blue shirt

standing beside a window while it rains, nothing much going on, intangible.

...

To put your hand into the light reveals the hand but the light also: shining is where they touch.

Other things made of light: hallucinations & angels. If I reach my hands into you, will you vanish?

from Small Poems For The Winter Solstice by Margaret Atwood

[writer59january13]

Groundhog day 2024 or Forty one days since 2023 Winter Solstice

Rather than be a day late and dollar short, I opted to post poem acknowledging the second of February, where eponymous groundhog gets his (most often male) foretelling whether there will be six more weeks of winter upon oblate spheroid generating hoopla whether spring will arrive early and satiate those folks who favor spring.

Already noticeably marked

increase in daylight

yours truly courtesy affected

qua heliotropic phenomenon

finds me noggin gently being tugged

upward and westward ho toward sun

after dark mine talking head

rests downward and eastward and as a humble Earthling bows sayonara to Gaia.

Soon very indistinct

environmental intimations

regarding onomatopoeic

ubiquitous murmurings,

whereby old man winter

ever so faintly

relinquishes, loosens, forsakes...

Judas Priest Iron Maiden grip

upon emergent biosphere

suddenly awakened when

Mother Earth generates

invisible signals transmitted

across world wide web

analogous to conductor

standing on podium

with baton in her/his hand

orchestra playing on cue

perhaps choice selection Rite of Spring

work by Russian composer Igor Fyodorovich Stravinsky

or Flight of the Bumblebee

written by Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov.

Soon dormant species will exhibit rebirth

out their linkedin hibernation

flora and fauna tentatively

begin to issue forth out their slumbers

shoots poke thru across terra firma

insync with twittering tweeting creatures

hint viz verdant and/or fecund potential ready to burst forth and proliferate

instinctively trumpeting joie de vivre.

Sensational show stopping, eye catching

breathtaking... parade of sights and sounds

await buzzfeeding eyes and ears

about six weeks hence,

within mine home box office

here at Highland Manor apartments

quite affordable rent

allows, enables and provides

radiant quiescence, preponderant observance,

nonresistant magnificence, jubilant innocence,

exuberant deliverance,

concurrent buoyant abundance.

Accordingly and allegedly other than meteorologists plenti schooled ascertaining onset of temperate air more particularly otter den non humans unassumingly (ferreted out), who bear the tidings, when that season of rebirth dawns with crystal clear blue skies, and terrain where deer and antelope eagerly play without despair purportedly realized, reassured, recounted...drear re: days vamoosed foretold by

Punxsutawney Phil, or one of his progeny on Groundhog Day February second - requires one with acute hearing to cock, and ear turnips tickling the nose nostrils delicate hairs (instagram ideal outlook) subtly, markedly, lively..., yet gently flair soon harkening shrieks of delightful analogous funfair no stranger to Renaissance Faire

of pitch perfect gamesomeness will seem as... otherworldly pleasant ah heaven sent giftware, where all creatures great and small sing psalms, upon arrival when hardware trappings of winter shucked witnessing unrolled welcome Scottish mat so hare and tortoise can race, cuz vernal equinox, sports a linkedin improvisational, ebulliently educational, cerebral, audiological...

twittering melange I will hear,

and grateful no defect doth impair ability to revel silence, slake, soak... insatiable thirst even prodding junketeer, panhandler, vendor...

the last named,

perhaps selling kitchenware

knicknacks, keepsakes...

to hippies, and/or aging long hair pencil neck geeks

(think yours truly)

with long wavy hair interwoven with Kahila Garden Lily, Laurel, Maidenhair... profusion of sensual delight brings Mother Earth near, the body, mind, and soul espying frolicsome Homo sapiens donned with minimal outerwear infusing all living things

common native plants and animals

in conjunction with resident outlier particularly those pining to answer call of the wild overdare ring and bee zee lee court'n prepare ring to beget young as singular requisite quintessential profiteer fluttering, instagramming emoji, sans shutterfly puppeteer as audience visually already reddit

regarding acting entire scenes, viz Biblical Genesis answering prayer particularly if gnostic, heterodox, queer...,

finally relieved, sans polar vortex albeit somewhat rare

atmospheric phenomena, how ideal if said rabid Jack Frost would sink icy bite - part and parcel green gang at much more favorably time reappear

during oppressive heat spell during sweltering triple digits temperature summer re: at various times throughout the year across the world arbitrarily and randomly zeroing in on The Democratic Republic of the Congo, also known as Congo-Kinshasa, DRC, DR Congo, or simply the Congo and known from 1971–1997 as Zaire.