Saturday, December 7, 2013

Faring Place

I have greatly modified this and I hope it's better than before!

Twas a black night when I arrived here at Here. I had no idea how I'd come to be there, nor where to go. I stumbled about in the darkness feeling for something, anything at all to help me see. I saw a faint glow. With a rush of need I sprang towards it. I had no clue that it was very close to me. Thusly I ran into it. It didn't cry out but it shone very brightly. I studied it and saw it was... well this may sound odd, but it was a star. A round sphere of light stood before me shining bright and blue.

 "What's your name? Where are we?" I asked it, but it didn't reply. It looked at me and shrugged. It had morphed from a ball into a human. He, for it was male, began to walk away from me.

 "Wait!" I cried, "Don't leave me in this darkness!" He beckoned for me to follow him. I readily did so. He lead the way to a path which we followed to a large building, he knocked on the door and we waited.
A tall silver haired youth answered the door. His black eyes searched us.

"Ah... You two must be the new ones..." He grinned and called over his shoulder, "Hobbes, I was right! It is a fallen star!"

Another youth with the same silver hair and black eyes came to the door. "Yes, Tiger, but I did say that the other would be a human. Even?" He asked Tiger.

"Even." Tiger nodded.

"Whose at the door, Tiger?" A voice called. "Is it them? Are they here?"

"Yes!" One of them called.

"Then let them in, they must be informed." the voice commanded.

"Come in." They gestured together for us to enter.

We stepped into a warm hallway and followed Tiger and Hobbes to a sitting room. Inside there sat a girl. She smiled and motioned for us to sit down.

"Welcome to Here, boys." She said.

"Where is here?" I asked.

"Here is here, silly." She laughed. "We welcome you to 123 Faring Place. What are your names?" She asked.

I thought a moment then said,"Kedar... Kedar Christenson."

"Nice to meet you Kedar, I'm Jonni. And what is your name?" She asked the star.

He pointed to his mouth and shook his head no. "Oh, I see! You lost your voice on the way down?" He nodded. "That's common, will you write your name down please?" She handed him a piece of paper and a pen.

He wrote something and handed it back to her. "Why." She read aloud."Because we need to know who you are." She said.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. Taking the paper back he wrote, "My name is Why."

"Oh!" She giggled, "Stars do like having funny names, don't they?"

He cocked his head to the side and looked at her questioningly.

"Never mind." She said. "Okay, I think you'll be on the top floor," she pointed to me,"And you'll be in the basement." She pointed to Why. "Hobbes take Why to the basement, Tiger take Kedar to the top floor, please."
I was taken to a comfortable room where I immediately fell asleep.

That was my first night at 123 Faring Place.


The next morning I woke very much confused. I was sprawled on a twin sized bed in a large room. Looking over I saw a window. I got up and walked over to it. Outside the window I saw the ground very far below me. I kept staring down and began to get dizzy. Then a flash of grey blurred past. I cried out and jumped back. It must've heard me for it came back. It was a teen. He was an odd white grey. He grinned and tapped on the window. I slowly opened it, and he lept onto the sill.

"Good morning!" He said in a voice I wouldn't have thought he possessed. It was airy and boomed at the same time.

"Goo...d morning." I stammered.

"Your Kedar, right?"

"Yeaaah. Yes. Yes I am. And who are you? What are you?" I asked him.

"I'm Writer, I'm a Cloud." he said as if that would reveal everything to me, in truth it only confused me more.

"What?" I asked.

"Oh, sorry!" He laughed," I forgot you're, uh... new. I'm a Cloud from Sky." He took the unnecessary precaution of pointing upwards.

"Then how are you... down here?" I asked a little annoyed.

"You're the same guy who saw a fallen Star last night?" He laughed, "Kedar, Here is a wonderful place, lots of things that can't happen in other realms can happen here. I for one am permitted by Madam Sun to stay on Here."

"Wha-?"

He sighed, "Don't you know? Every century a Star and a Cloud are chosen by Madam Sun to come to protect Here from... Um, misfortunes and the like. Why and I are sort of like the guardians of Here. Get it now?" He looked at me with an eager expression.

"Kind of... So you and Why are a star and a cloud? And your here to protect Here... From what?"

"Well, uh... Ya know whatsit and whosits and... so on and so forth and what have you." He laughed lightly but his face was worried. "Nice to meet you Kedar, I float by again sometime!" And he shot off.

I was quite concerned about what we were being protected from. I didn't have the confidence then that I now have in Why and Writer.
I made my bed and then looked around my room. There was a roll topped desk. I went over to it and opened it's top. It had a laptop inside. I smiled and sat down. I opened it and went to notebook. And I began to type...and type....and type. I probably would have stayed on that laptop all day long had it not been for Wiley and Art.

"Gooood evening." They said in unison entering my room.

"It's evening?" I asked astonished that I'd been on the laptop that long.

"Yes Kedar, it's five in the evening." One of the youths said.

"Who are you?" I asked, slightly wary.

"I'm Wiley." The teen with black hair smirked and bowed.

"And I'm Art." The other boy was pale and had searching brown eyes.

"Nice to meet you both..." I noticed it was fairly dim in the room, since the sun had hidden her face behind a bank of clouds.

"How are you finding Faring Place?" Wiley asked.

"I don't really know yet. I haven't been out of this room." I said.

"Oh, pity."  Art grinned. "You ought to know the place your going to die in."

"What?" I asked very much bemused.

"Yes, you ought to know that you may possible give your self for another." Wiley said lazily.

"What are you talking about?" I cried.

"They haven't even told him the Prophesy. Tsk tsk tsk, what a shame. Shall we remedy that, Wiley?" Art asked grinning wickedly.

A girl with flaming hair burst into the room, "Wiley! Art! Get downstairs now! Jonni is waiting for you so we can eat!" She ordered bossily.

They glared at her and slunk away.

"You!" She barked at me.

"Yes?" I asked timidly.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"Kedar Christenson... and you?"

"I'm Maddy and I'm a Flame. How old are you, Kedar?" She asked.

"Ummm... 18 I think." A flame, huh? Makes sense. I thought.

"You think? Don't you know how old you are?" She was exasperated.

"Yes I know!" I cried indignantly,"I'm 18. How old are you?"

"I'm 1432 years old. Well if you want to eat today you'll come down to the kitchen." She turned and started to walk away.

I begun to put my laptop away and she turned back around and barked, "NOW!" I jumped up and followed her out of my room. We walked down a wide hall way to the stairs. They wound in a circle all the way down. A person stood at the bottom staring up.

"Is Kedaw coming down?" The voice called. Not like Maddy's harsh voice, but soft and it had a lisp.

"Yes, Connie!" Maddy yelled back. "Connie's a writer. She's nine."

"Do her parents live here?" I asked.

"No, do yours?" She asked crisply.

"Nooo..." I muttered.

We began to descend the stairs, there were mirrors at every landing, I caught my reflection and stared. I have white hair, yellow eyes and my skin is copper.  "Wow..." I breathed. I had had no idea what I looked like at the time.

"Are you done staring at yourself, Kedar?" Maddy asked.

"I wasn't-" I sighed and followed her to the bottom of the stairs. There were three hallways.

"Go strait and you'll end up in the front of Faring Place, where Writer, Connie, and Jonni's rooms are. Go to the left and you'll be in Wally's world. The kitchen, the dining room, HIS room, and the stairs to the basement are that way. If you were to go right you'd be in the entertaining part of this home. There's a game room, a sitting room, a den, a living room and a half bath. Any questions?" She asked.

"Yeah, you didn't tell me what we pass on the stairs, what's behind all of those doors?" I asked her.

"Well, nosy, there's Wiley's,  Art's, Tiger and Hobbes's, and Candy's room for one. There's the laundry rooms, a few bathrooms, and my room. Satisfied?" She stormed.

"Not yet.  Wiley and Art said something to me about a prophesy, what's the prophesy say?" I asked.

"I can't say." She growled and took the hallway to the left.

"Why can't you?" I asked.

"Because it's not my place to spoil the ending." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Now shut up and let's go eat."

We entered the dining room. In it was a large table, people were crowded around it, and a large man in an apron pushed his way thru a swinging door opposite the one I'd just entered. He held a large tray, tall glasses of a foamy drinks were atop it. He set them down, tucked the tray under his great arm and lumbered back thru the door.

"Hullo, Kedaw!" Connie dimpled a smile at me from across the room.

"Hi." I said back. Maddy pushed past me and took a seat by Wiley who was staring at me with his crystal blue glare.

"Look whose here." One of the silver haired youths grinned. The other was gulping his drink.

"Everyone this is Kedar Christenson he's Human." Jonni said. "Wally, come here for a moment!" She called. The big man came back to the swinging door and poked his head into the dining room.

"Yes?" He asked.

"Meet Kedar." She said.

"Nice to meet your acquaintance, Kedar." He extended his meaty hand, I shook it.  He nodded to Jonni and went back into the kitchen.

"Okay, I want each of you to introduce yourself to Kedar. Tell him your name and title please." Jonni said. "Tiger and Hobbes will begin."

They stood, grinning, "We are Tiger and Hobbes, we are Time." They said in unison.

"I'm Candy, I'm a drop of Rain." A girl with watery blue eyes informed me.

"Nice to meet you, Candy." I said.

"I'm Hollywood I'm Ice." A boy with white blond hair told me. I nodded.

"I'm Connie I'm a Writew from Papew." The little girl smiled at me. I returned the smile.

"As you know, Kedar I am Wiley."

"And I'm Art." Wiley and Art smirked for no apparent reason.

"I'm Jache the Scribe." A youth with orange hair said.  I just tilted my head in his direction.

"I'm Maddy and I'm a Flame." Maddy spat.

"I'm pretty sure that's everyone." Jonni smiled.

I spotted Why slouching in a corner and walked over to him.  He nodded in acknowledgement when I said Hello.

"Do you like this place?" I asked him.

He smiled and shone brightly, then looked at me and raised his eyebrows.

"You do? I don't know if I do yet... I've only been up to my room and here." I explained.

He gestured his arm in a wide ark.

"I should explore, huh? I'll try to tomorrow... Will you come with me Why?" I asked.

He nodded vigorously. I smiled. "Hey, Why, have you heard anything about a prophesy?" He frowned and shook his head no.

 Tiger or Hobbes, I couldn't tell them apart then, beckoned for us to sit down beside him. We did so just as the large man pushed thru the door again.

"Here you go!" He bellowed, putting plates of food in front of everyone.

"That's Wally our chef." The black eyed boy said in a whisper.

"Sorry but are you Tiger, or Hobbes?" I asked.

"I'm Hobbes. You can tell if it's me or Tiger by our ears. I have pointed ears and he doesn't, see?" He tilted his head and I saw he did indeed have pointed ears. I glanced up at Tiger and saw he had normal rounded ears.

"Okay, thanks Hobbes." I said. I looked down at my plate. "Hobbes, what is this?" I asked eyeing the yellowish matter on my plate.

"It's food, Kedar." He grinned and took a large bite of his.

"What kind of food?" I poked it with my fork.

"It's G.U.M." Hobbes said.

"What? This isn't gum. Gum is for blowing bubbles and chewing, not eating." I said.

"Where DID you come from, Kedar? G.U.M. stands for Generally Useful Matter, or General Users Malnutrition Buster.... Or something like that." He muttered and took another bite of G.U.M.

"What does it taste like?" I asked.

"Like whatever you want to eat." He grinned. "For instance, I'm eating a hot fudge sundae."

"Really?" I asked. I took a small forkful and ate it. I tasted like something I'd eaten before. Warmth filled me though the food was cool, a lightness spread all over me. I heard a beautiful laugh and looked around for the source. I saw only the chatting inhabitants of Faring Place.

Someone nudged me and I glanced over. Why looked at me with concern. "Did you hear her?" I asked him.

His brow furrowed and he shook his head no.  I sighed. "Hobbes, did you hear her?" I asked.

"Who?" He asked. "Are you feeling alright, Kedar? You look a little pale..." He said.

"I'm fine." I'd suddenly lost my appetite. Getting up I left the dining room. I stumbled down the hall and was about to ascend the stairs when I heard her again. She seemed to be laughing with me even though I wasn't.

"Hello, Kedar." A soft voice whispered. I started and looked around.  On the stairs stood the most different looking person I've yet to encounter.

"H- h- hi." I stuttered gaping at her. She wore a brilliant robe of yellow, and she had a great deal of scarves wrapped around her neck and her waist. She possessed a grand amount of hats, a few of which must have been stuck in her dreadlocks. Many baubles, watches and bracelets hung off her wrists and arms. I looked down at her bare feet and saw that they were the same shade of yellow as her robe.

 "Who are you?" I asked her.

"Why, I'm Sunnee. I'm surprised no one greeted my when I came down. I suppose you all do things differently here. But you were expecting me, weren't you? You did received Madam Sun's message?" Sunnee asked me.

"I, uh.... I don't know. I was in my room all day... But I didn't hear anyone mention that you were coming."

"Oh dear," Sunnee breathed,"This is news indeed."

I led Sunnee to the dining room where dinner was in full swing. When we walked in everyone stopped eating and stared an Sunnee.

"Who's dat?" Connie asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

"I am, Sunnee. And you say that no one was expecting me?" She asked me.

 "Obviously not." I replied.

Jonni stood up, "I assure you none of us knew." She shot Wiley and Art a hateful look, "We would have been preparing... Come, we need to talk." Jonni led Sunnee out of the room.
Everyone looked at me.

"What?"  I asked them.

"Where did she come from?" Tiger asked.

"I don't know... she was just there." I muttered.

"Why are you mumbling! Where did she come from?" Maddy said crossly.

"I was going to my room, and she was standing at the foot of the stairs." I said impatiently.

"So she just appeared?" Art smirked at my confusion.

"I don't know, why don't you ask her?" I cried.

"Obviously she's a Ray of Sunshine." Hobbes said.

"Well, obviously." Tiger frowned. "But why is she needed? We already have Why and Writer... and Kedar." he muttered.

"Perhaps the Prophesy was missing a piece? That DID happen to Hannon and Sokol... They didn't know how serious their problems were until it was to late." Hobbes said thoughtfully.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. Hobbes ignored me. I turned to Tiger, "What's that mean?" I asked him. He too ignored me. I looked about the room and scowled.
Wiley and Art were whispering with their heads close together, Connie sat on one of Wally's great knees crying, Maddy glared at Writer who was gliding about the room on his back, Hollywood, the youth with white blond hair, sat by Candy who was talking hurridly as if explaining something, Jache was staring down at his G.U.M., and Why was looking past me into the distance. Tiger and Hobbes continued to talk and shake their heads.

"Will someone please tell me what this means?!" I roared.

"No need to shout, Kedar." Art smirked.

"Well?" I asked.

Again the eyes of all 12 people were on me.  "Tiger, Hobbes, you tell him." Maddy ordered them.

"Okay." Tiger said. "You might want to sit down, Kedar."

I did and Hobbes began to explain. "It was three generations ago that Hannon and Sokol, a Star and Cloud, came to Here, to protect the inhabitants of 123 Faring Place from..." he trailed off.

"From what?" I asked irritably.

"Fwom a howwible fate." Connie piped up.

"What horrible fate?" I cried in exasperation.

"Calm down, Kedar." Wiley said smugly.

"Not until you tell me!" I yelled.

"Kedar, chill." Writer said floating above me in a circle.

Before I could start screaming again Tiger said, "Okay, Hannon and Sokol were supposed to protect Here from beasts. Fire breathing dragons, two headed serpents, giants, ghouls, monsters, nightmares, whatever, you name it, it's out there. More specifically they had to guard a portal so that these things couldn't enter Here."

In that moment I was more frightened then than I'd ever been. It was then that I realized that I was a coward.

"Now, they didn't receive their entire prophesy, the thing that Madam Sun procures for the guardians to tell them what they must face, and they were destroyed. Them and most everyone who was here at Here at the time. See once a month, when the full moon rises, the portal opens and all manner of evil comes out, unless of course a Star and Cloud are there to keep it closed. Sometimes the Star and Cloud need a little help, that's why Madam Sun gives them a Prophesy, to guide them and it let's them know if they DO need a little assistance battling demons and the like. We're usually informed if a Ray of Sunshine has to be involved. This means Wiley and Art have lost a vital part of our Prophesy, again!" Hobbes growled at them.

"What?" I asked bewildered.

"They are Wind, and they were supposed to bring us the Prophesy from Madam Sun." Tiger scowled,"Why anyone thought we could trust you two in the first place is beyond me."

"Don't be cross, we know you'll find out everything in time." Wiley smirked.

"Unlike you two we cannot just flit away at the first sign of trouble, we're firmly stuck here to face the evil that will be spewed from that portal if we can't figure out the Prophesy in time." Hollywood quipped. "We'll be a little more than cross we'll be destroyed."

A shrill squeal sounded. Everyone looked at Connie who was now sobbing. "Take her to bed, Maddy." Wally said.

"Fine, but let me know if there are any developments." She took Connie out of the room.

"Can't they just go and get the parts they left out?" Candy asked Tiger.

"No. That's the thing, once a part is left behind it dies and cannot be recovered." Tiger sighed.

"Unless someone can rewrite it, which is impossible cause no one read it but these morons." Wally said in a low angry tone, glaring at Wiley and Art.

"Wait a second." I said. "Hobbes you said that Wiley and Art lost a part of the Prophesy AGAIN. That means they've done this before, when?" I asked.

"When Hannon and Sokol came to Here they thought it would be great fun to let them figure it out by themselves. As you know that bit of idiocy breeded destruction. Almost everyone died..." Hobbes sighed.

"Other than Wiley and Art, who lived?" I asked.

"We did." Tiger and Hobbes said in unison. "The portal was open until Madam Sun and Monsieur Moon intervened. By the time they did nearly everything was lost." Tiger said sadly.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

123 Faring Place

Twas a black night when I arrived here at Here. I had no idea how I'd come to be there, nor where to go. I stumbled about in the darkness feeling for something, anything at all to hep me see. I saw a distant glow. With a rush of need I sprang towards it. I had no clue that it was very close to me. Thusly I ran into it. It didn't cry out but it shone very brightly. I studied it and saw it was... well this may sound odd, but it was a star! A round sphere of light.

I asked it, "What's your name? Where are we?" But it didn't reply. It looked at me and shrugged. It had morphed from a ball into a human. He, for it was male, began to walk away from me.

 "Wait!" I cried, "Don't leave me in this darkness!" He beckoned for me to follow him. I readily did so. He lead the way to a path of sorts. We followed it to a large building, he knocked and we waited.
A tall silver haired youth answered the door. His black eyes searched us.

"Ah... You two must be the new ones..." He grinned and called over his shoulder, "Hobbes, I was right! It is a fallen star!"

Another youth with the same silver hair and black eyes came to the door. "Yes, Tiger, but I did say that the other would be an albino. Even?" He asked Tiger.

"Even." Tiger nodded.

"Whose at the door, Tiger?" A voice called. "Is it them? Are they here?"

"Yes!" One of them called.

"Then let them in, they must be informed." the voice commanded.

"Come in." They gestured together for us to enter.

We stepped into a warm hallway and followed Tiger and Hobbes to a sitting room. Inside there sat a girl. She smiled and motioned for us to sit down.

"Welcome to Here, boys." She said.

"Where is here?" I asked.

"Here is here, silly." She laughed. "We welcome you to 123 Faring Place. What are your names?" She asked.

I thought a moment then said,"Kedar... Kedar Christensen."

"Nice to meet you Kedar, I'm Jonni. And what is your name?" She asked the star.

He pointed to his mouth and shook his head no. "Oh, I see! You lost your voice on the way down?" He nodded. "That's common, will you write your name down please?" She handed him a piece of paper and a pen.

He wrote something and handed it back to her. "Why." She read aloud."Because we need to know who you are." She said.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. He took the paper back and wrote, "My name is Why."

"Oh!" She giggled, "Stars do like having funny names, don't they?"

He cocked his head to the side and looked at her questioningly.

"Never mind." She said. "Okay, I think you'll be on the top floor," she pointed to me,"And you'll be in the basement." She pointed to Why. "Hobbes take Why to the basement, Tiger take Kedar to the top floor, please."
I was taken to a comfortable room where I immediatly fell asleep.

That was my first night at 123 Faring Place.


The next morning I woke very much confused. I was sprawled on a twin sized bed in a large room. Looking over I saw a window. I got up and walked over to it. I looked out it and gasped. The ground was very far below me. I kept looking down and I started to get dizzy. Then a flash of grey blurred past. I cried out and jumped backwards. It must've heard me for it came back. It was a boy...Or a teen. He was an odd white grey. He grinned and tapped on the window. I uncertainly opened it, and he lept onto the sill.

"Good morning!" He said in a voice I wouldn't have thought he possessed. It was airy and boomed at the same time.

"Goo...d morning." I stammered.

"Your Kedar, right?"

"Yeaaah. Yes I am. And who are you? What are you?" I asked him.

"I'm Writer. I'm a Cloud." he said as if that would reveal everything to me, in truth it only confused me more.

"What?" I asked.

"Oh, sorry!" He laughed," I forgot you're-- new. I'm a Cloud from Sky."

"Then how are you... down here?" I asked.

"You're the same guy who say a fallen Star last night?" He laughed, "Kedar, Here is a wonderful place, lots of things that others don't think can happen do. I for one am permitted by Madam Sun to stay on Here."

"Wha-?"

He sighed, "Don't you know? Every century a Star and a Cloud are chosen to come to protect Here from.. Misfortunes and the like. Do you get it now? Why and I are sorta like the guardians of Here. Understand now?" He looked at me with a eager expression.

"Kind of... So you and Why are a star and a cloud? And your here to protect Here... From what?"

"Well, uh... Ya know whatsit and whosits and um... so on and so forth and what have you." He laughed lightly but his face was worried. "Nice to meet you Kedar, I float by again sometime!" And he shot off.

I was quite concerned about what we were being protected from... I didn't have the confidence then that I now have in Why and Writer.
I made my bed and then looked around my room. There was a rolltopped desk. I went over to it and opened it's top. It had a laptop inside. I smiled and sat down. I opened the laptop and went to notebook. And I began to type...and type....and type. I probably would have stayed on that laptop all day long had it not been for Wiley and Art.

"Gooood evening." They said in unison.

"It's evening?" I asked astonished that I'd been on the laptop that long.

"Yes Kedar, it's five in the evening." One of the youths said.

"Who are you?" I asked, slightly wary.

"I'm Wiley." The teen with black hair smirked and bowed.

"And I'm Art." The other boy was pale and had searching brown eyes.

"Nice to meet you both..." I noticed it was fairly dim in the room, since the sun had hidden her face behind a bank of clouds.

"How are you finding Faring Place?" Wiley asked.

"I don't really know yet. I haven't been out of this room." I said.

"Oh, pity."  Art grinned.

A girl with flaming hair burst into the room, "Wiley! Art! Get downstairs now! Jonni is waiting for you so we can eat!" She ordered bossily.

They glared at her and slunk away.

"You!" She barked at me.

"Yes?" I asked timidly.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"Kedar Christensen... and you?"

"I'm Maddy and I'm a Flame. How old are you, Kedar?" She asked.

"Ummm... 18 I think." A flame, huh? Makes sense. I thought.

"You think? Don't you know how old you are?" She was exasperated.

"Yes I know!" I cried indignantly,"I'm 18. How old are you?"

"I'm 1432 years old.  Well if you want to eat today you'll come down to the kitchen." She turned and started to walk away.

I started to put my laptop away and she turned back around and barked, "NOW!" I jumped up and followed her to the kitchen.

Friday, October 25, 2013

Rain

"What is rain, Emory?"  A mousy girl stood besides a boy at a large window, watching the rain fall, and the great grey clouds billow.

"What do you mean, Olli? What is rain made of?" Emory asked, still looking out the window.

"No... I mean, are they tears? Gods tears?"

"I don't think so... Maybe God is watering the earth in the same way that we water the garden, and the clouds are mud and the thunder is His voice speaking to his plants, He's just so far up that we can't hear the wordsw clearly." Emory declared.

"So, what is the lightning?" Olli asked.

"Oh... weeds?" He offered.

"No, I don't think their weeds, Emory... what if they're sunshine? You know, plants need water, which is the rain, soil, or mud, and sunshine to grow." She smiled.

"Yeah, that's it. But what if one day we find out that it's not all that, what else could it be?" he asked.

"If not tears, or water from a watering can.... Maybe rain is water sloshing out of the bucket of a clumsy angel." Olli giggled.

"Or a god from Olympus, say Poseidon god of the sea(earth), is showering and some water spilled out of the shower." Emory laughed his idea.

Olli grinned, "Maybe we'll never know what rain really is.."
 

Sunday, October 20, 2013

My Ever Changing Picture

It mattered not to the moon, where we'd been nor where we we were going. She shone brightly in the inky sky all the same.
Black and grey clouds swelled and covered her light. But the little white orb swung like a bobble out from under the dark clouds and fell back again. Some invisible finger kept her swinging like a pendulum, back and forth to and fro. The darkest of the clouds began to scuttle away, leaving the smokey grey clouds to roll over the moon.
Speeding along below like a silver bullet the Avalon crossed the Texas border and into vast farm land.
Here the sky was above and around, it endlessly stretched over me, making the flat land look wide and thin.
The sky turned slowly lighter, to a grey, and the clouds were tinged with the deepest scarlet.
Lighter still it grew, the grey began rising like steam and a silky cream color lined the half grey clouds.
The grey clouds passed and new white ones pervaded, giving my still shining sphere a wide berth.
The sun had not shown his face, so the moon stubbornly stayed in the wan blue heavens.
It emitted a ghostly pale shine. Poor Ms.Moon! Her craters formed a wailing face, she was quite desolate, but she dare not leave until Mr.Sun had presented himself.
Lo! A golden shine from the North! A cloudbank covered the moon and when it was swept away by the wind she was gone.
Mr.Sun had taken over his azure realm, and Ms.Moon sank around the planet into another black, black night.

Friday, October 18, 2013

My Apology

I am sorry if anyone has noted my absence from my blog. It was unintended and I've had several things to say that I've had burry deep in my carpet.
Sadly I am busy at present, what with finishing up the last two weeks of high school, but I promise that I will have a new post up this Sunday.
Till then.

Cedar Sunshine Writer Extraordinaire

Friday, August 23, 2013

Words

I believe people take words for granted. The very momentum of their atrocity or sweet caress of  their kindness is taken to lightly.
How hurtful words can be! Like a slap across the face. A mouthful of words can take down a legion of men. A sentence can ruin a man, whereas a paragraph could utterly destroy a family, never to be repaired again.

"I hate you." Three measly  words, yet such pain it can inflict! Casting aside a loved one in the heat of emotion.

"Goodbye." One word that reduces millions to tears, their hearts longing to keep holding on to that person who is leaving them.

"Why?" The one question that goes unanswered through the years, leaving mysterious silence in it's wake.

People don't comprehend the amount of damage a few hasty words can create, the havoc that can spread like wildfire across the plains of peoples minds and hearts.
The devastation they bring upon each other by their mere demeanor, clearly voiced by their actions, whether biased of malcontent.
Words can bore into your heart of hearts like venom through the fangs of those who would so poisonously drip their disgust abroad. 
O! What a word can do! Bringing down worlds in a single rumor! But do we heed the unnecessary hurt we inflict upon each other? No, we selfishly  continue our rants, blindly avoiding the destruction that we create.

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Cedar Sunshine

If you've enjoyed my writing thus far I might interest you in reading another one of my other blogs which is on WordPress. It is called  Stories From Cedar Sunshine.
A few stories that will be featured there are, Webster, No not the dictionary, Bennett Manor(My story that I've worked on for ages), and Heath's Mountains.
Feel free to give me feed back!

-Cedar

The In Between

There is a land beyond the sea, and it used to have two separate kingdoms.
There was a land shrouded in the darkest shadows, and a land that shone like a star, white and pure.
They were parallel each other, the darkness staying in the shadows, the light shining every bright.
One day something happened, someone was malcontent with the purity of the light and the emptiness of the blackness, so that someone stood in the middle, refusing to be good, but trying not to look bad in the process.
The lands became mixed at the borders, a fuzzy gray place took residence in between the dark and the light. Souls that veered to far astray would be lost in the gloom, the fog was concealing as the darkness, so they thought, but so close to the light that they could go back if they wanted to, but they didn't want to.
Everyone decided that it was O.K. to be a little dark, but what they didn't know, and still refuse to believe, is that their darkness outweighs their fasod of light. They really aren't good in the least, but they portend to be.
Our image is too greatly marred in the darkness, so let's try to fool them and be both.

But, as they will find out the hard way, one day good will prevail and their misty shroud will melt before the heat of light, and they will be seen for what they truly are. Evil.

There is no in between, only right and wrong, good and evil, there is no big and little lies, small sins and big one, in Jesus Christ eyes they are all sins.

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Snow

Snow lay in heaps on the ground, and still the fat snowflakes descended.
They fell on their white brothers and sisters, they lay, all nestled together on roofs, yards, and the asphalt street.
A single streetlight illuminated the white and black night.
Mounds of flurry snow climbed up around the lamppost, like children pile round a good storyteller, eagerly expecting a treat.
The golden radiance of the lamp pierced the darkness, like a beacon it shone to show the gingerly falling snow where to land.
'Come', the light beckoned, 'Fall here, with your beautiful, cold family. Rest beneath my halo of brightness, I will keep you safe.'
And they fell quickly, thickly to the gleaming shine of the light. 

Monday, July 15, 2013

Thank You Lord

Thank you, Lord, for lamentation turned to joy,
Thank you, Lord, for inspiration, some humble some coy,
Thank you, Lord, for the sensation that words give to the lives that we live.

Thank you, good Lord, for spite turned to light,
For midnight to be bright.
And thank you, sweet savior, for a pen to write,
A lamp to light, and a swiftly moving hand,
To portray each and every sight.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

Webster (No, not the dictionary)

A teen aged boy stumbled into the road, and, as if he couldn't take another step, he sat down and wept bitterly. A car hurtling towards him tried to stop, but the front hit him, knocking him flat on the cold asphalt. His head throbbed with pain as he lay, crying his heart out, underneath the oily engine of a Toyota Hybrid. A car door slammed and a man knelt over him, 'Are you alright?' 
The man scooped him up in his arms and repeated the question, louder this time.
Feebly he shook his head 'no' and went limp in the man's arms.
'Oh my God!' a woman screamed.
'Somebody call an ambulance for this boy!' The man yelled at the forming crowd.
Several people grabbed their phones and dialed 911.
Minutes later an ambulance, sirens wailing, sped down the road and skid to a halt in front of the man holding the boy. He was lifted onto a stretcher and put in the back of the ambulance and rushed to the hospital.
The ambulance driver and his assistant wheeled him into the emergency room, where a doctor surveyed the damage. The teen had a concussion, and would need to stay at the hospital for a day or two. The doctor order a nurse to wake him and keep him awake.
'Marsha,' the doctor said to his secretary, 'I'm going on lunch break, I want you to get this boy's parents up here before I get back, understood?'
'Yes, sir.' the young woman replied.
When the doctor got back from his lunch break he asked Marsha, 'Where are his parents?'
'Well, Mr.Collins, the boy doesn't seem to be registered.' Marsha said.
'Oh? That's odd.... I'll go ask the boy who he is then.' The doctor said, and strode off.
The boy was awake when Dr.Collins entered the room.
'Good afternoon, son, are you feeling any better?'
Instead of answering the boy stared at him with reddened eyes.
'What's your name, son?'
'I'm not your son.'
'Do you have a name, boy?'
The boy's face clouded and his brow furrowed. 'I don't know.'
'Why, everyone's got a name! What's yours?' the doctor pressed.
'Why do you wanna know?' The boy muttered darkly.
'Because you've been in an accident and we need to summon your parents.'
'I'm an orphan.'
'Oh? What orphanage do you stay at?'
'I don't.'
'Come, come, you must have a name, what is it?'
The boy sighed, ' You can call me Webster.'
'Webster? Sounds like a last name.. Do you have a first name, Webster?'
'No, it's just Webster.'
'Alright, Webster, you'll be here for a while, your body needs rest and treatment after that accident... How old are you?'
'Seventeen.' Webster said.
'Hmmm... Well you get some sleep, Webster and I'll check your wound tomorrow.'
 
'Marsha, look up Webster in all our files, will you?' the doctor asked.
'Will do, Dr.Collins.'
 
The next morning Dr.Collins went strait to the secretary's desk, 'Well?' he asked.
'No Websters matches his description, sir. Oh and your late for an appointment.'  Marsha said. 'Which room?' he asked.
'Room 385, Mr.Langton.' 
The doctor stomped off without so much as a 'Thank you' to Marsha.
A cocky looking young man strode up and asked Marsha, 'Which room is Webster in?'
'Are you a relative?'
'We are relatively close.'
'Well.....'
'Come on, doll, let a guy see his friend.' the man pleaded.
'Alright, he's in room 386.' Marsha said.
'Thanks a million, cutie.' the man smiled at Marsha and strode off down the hall.
 
'Knock, knock.' The young man said as he entered room 386.
'Hello, Webster.'
Webster stared at the man levelly but his eyes portrayed a frightened light.
'What do want, Thompson?'
'Mr.G wants you back at base, now.'
'Look, I finished the mission and I'm hurt, I need some time off.' Webster said.
'No, you're coming with me.'  Thompson said coolly, grabbing Webster by the arm and dragged him out of bed.
'Say goodbye to rest, friend, it's time to work.' Thompson pulled Webster out into the hallway and shoved him into a wheelchair.
'Who are you? And where are you taking that patient?' Dr.Collins asked stepping out of room 385.
'We just got back from a stroll out in the courtyard, right Webster?' Thompson asked.
'Yeah, right.' Webster muttered.
'Well, I was going to give him a check up so I'll wheel him back to his room now.' Doctor Collins said, taking hold of the back of the wheel chair.
 Thompson smiled wickedly, 'We'll continue our chat later. See ya around, Webster.'
'What was that all about?' asked Dr.Collins once they were in Websters room.
''Nothing."
'You don't expect me to believe that, do you? When he said, See ya around, it sounded like a threat. Who was that?'
'Thompson.'
'So, do you and everyone you know go by last names?'
'Something like that.'
'It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know that that man has evil intentions, so, either you tell me all about yourself and I'll help you, or I'll get the police involved.
Which one will it be, Webster?'
Webster sighed and said, 'I'll tell you, but if I do you've gotta swear not to get anyone else involved. Deal?'
'Sure thing, Webster.' Dr.Collins agreed.
'Ok, every name in the project is a last name, so that we cannot be traced or linked to anything or anyone. Now, I can't tell you who is in the project, but the project itself I can, and it's a miserable business. We lie, cheat, steal, even kill, if necessary, to put Mr.G on top. It's sorta like the mob, fighting to keep one man in power... it's nasty work. And I wanted out of it. After this last mission I tried to resigned, but Mr.G said he couldn't let me go, so I quit. Of course he hated that, thought I crossed him and was working for somebody else... He ruined my life. He killed everyone close to me, he crushed every asset I could have used...
And now he wants me back....' he sighed and said, 'That's why I cried in the middle of the road.'
'Oh.... I'm so sorry, Webster... The only way for me to help you is to involve the police-' Dr.Collins began.
'Then I don't want your help, Doc.' Webster got out of bed and took his clothes from the nightstand, he slipped his jeans on under his hospital gown then pulled the gown on and put on his t-shirt. 'Gimme my shoes and I'm outta here.'
'There under the bed, Webster.'
Webster pulled on his Toms and walked to the door, he hesitated and turned around, 'Hey, Doc, my name is David.'

Saturday, June 29, 2013

Forgive me?

Sally McLane stepped into a little coffee shop and took a seat by the front window.
Because she was staring out the window she didn't see the waitress come up behind her.
The waitress clears her throat loudly, 'Ahem!'
Startled, Sally stammers, 'Oh, um... Do ye serve-?
her eyes met the waitress' and she gasped, 'Maggie?'
'Aiy, that's me, wot's et to ya?'
'It's me, Sally, your sister.'
Maggie sniffs, and says coolly, 'Oh? Wot do ye want from me?'
'Oiy don't want anathing from YOU, oiy've come 'ere for coffee.'
Maggie opened her notepad and looked at Sally, 'Well? Wot have ya?'
'An ice coffee, thanx.'
Maggie leaves and Sally sighs and mutters, incoherently.
Maggie returns with an ice coffee and a bill. She hands them to Sally.
Says somewhat curtly, 'Here ya are.'  and turns to leave.
Sally says 'Maggie?' and she turns back around, and asks angrily,
'Wot  do ya want noaw?'
Pleadingly Sally asks, 'Why, aftair seven years, do ye hafta be so curt with ma? Ya couldn't hafe forgotten in all those years? Nor forgiven?'
Maggie's eye twitches and she hisses, 'No. I couldn't forgit yor selfish acts and you gettin' off easy while oiy had to stay and be the responsible one. Do ya really expect ma ta forgiv ya?'
Sally, lip trembling, says, 'Yes.'
With a sardonic smile Maggie says, 'Never.' and walks away.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Echo

   An air of sorrow wafts about him, he slips thru cities unnoticed, he sees, but is not seen. He sticks to the shadows and crowded places, he blends. How he hides himself is a mystery, he cut a striking figure, with the palest of skin, yellowish green eyes, and hair that is more black than a moonless sky. If you feel your being watched in a crowd, he is there. If you're all alone walking down a deserted street in the dead of night and feel a piercing gaze penetrate your comfort, he is there, and he is always watching.
   Beware if you feel you're watched, the shadow of a man is there, and for one purpose alone does he stalk.
He is there to retrieve. If you've stolen something, if you've taken so much as a thread that was not your own, he will hunt you down and take double from you what you've taken from another. So you too will know the pain of loss, and be wise enough to earn what you receive and leave others hard earned possessions alone.
   Why does he fight for us all? He has also felt the sharp, cutting pain of loss... His mind is his own and he thinks that no one should get by with theft.
And who is this ghostly shadow? His name is Echo.

Hey Writers!

While I was creating characters for a new story with my friends, C & D, D brought something to my attention that I won't soon forget. Usually when creating a character you'd create their appearance (hair, eyes, clothes, etc.), and their personality, maybe you'd even put them in a setting, I usually do.
But, D said, do people ever create a personal smell for a character?
Do we have our own unique smell? Yup.
C said she loves 'that Cedar smell' lol.
C smells like cantaloupes, sweet! (I wouldn't be surprised if the cantaloupe air freshener in her room has something to do with it. (: )
D smells like deodorant... most of the time...
I had a great aunt once who smelled like bananas... So I called her Nanas...

In some stories the author will put a remark like 'The old woman's house smelled like the chocolate cookies she was forever baking', or 'The air in the waiting room was toxic from so many people wearing too much cologne.' 
But seldom do characters have their own smell.
The next time I create a character, their gonna have their own smell.

-Cedar

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Ian Grieves

Dearest,

I almost could not bring myself to write to thee. I wish had the power to change our fate, but I do not.
I am increasingly sorrowful for my decline of comfort. First I wrote thee soothing sonnets, then weaker plays, and finally, pathetic letters. I did love thee, and even today it is thy heart that I love.
My throbbing affection for thee runs thru my heart like the sharpest of daggers, it cuts me to the very quick knowing that power and money have purchased thee- O!- how it burns me! My love for thee will be the downfall of my being... I must make myself know thou art a taken lady.... Ah! but tis  an hard way to go, a rough path to follow! I hate my own life for letting thou steal my joy, my whole self.
Why do I, even now, write to thee? Thou hast cursed me to die alone, wanting; yet thou have blessed me with hope, I shall yearn for your love to my grave.
I always wondered about my name, now it haunts me with it's irony.

Yours,
Ian Grieves

 A woman stands beside a large fire place, crying. The faded yellow paper upon which the above note was written is now clutched in her hand, she leans towards the flames and reads it for the umpteenth time. She hears a noise from the great hall and casts the note into the fire, and whispers, 'I will never, never forget thee, Ian.'
'Jewel?' A deep voice called.
A large man strode into the room, 'There thou art! Have thee been crying, dearest?' He asked concerned, 'Has something occurred?'
'No, no, it's nothing, a friend of mine passed away...' Jewel said.
'I am sorry to hear that, but the guest are arriving and I need thy help to welcome them to our home.' the man said.
'Alright, Herman, I will be just a moment more, tell them I am getting ready.' she sniffed.
'As thou wish.' And Herman exited the room.
'Pull yourself together, Jewel!' She chided herself.
'You know you have a position and stability here... Herman is a good man.... but I don't love him...' She thought bitterly.

And this poor young woman would be unhappy for the rest of her long life.


-Cedar

Haiku

 Which is better?

1: Beneath the surface,
Where worlds come together,
Creatures live in bliss.

Or.....

2: Beneath the surface,
Where worlds come together,
There they find their hearts.

-Cedar Sunshine :)

Monday, June 17, 2013

Spring

Spring may be 'just a season' to you, but to me it is a time of renewal. Flowers grow and bloom, green leaves appear on the branches of trees, many white and pink blossoms open, giving their springtime freshness to the stale wintry air. The air is still cool, but pleasantly so, not tart, like the stinging cold of winter. People begin to plant gardens, flower beds, and shrubs. People go fishing, they walk their dogs, they enjoy outings to the park, trips and picnics together.
Now, whether or not you agree with me, my plea to thee will always be:
That spring is not 'just a thing', it's people and God's earth, it's joy and happiness, Spring isn't 'just a season', and unless my mark I miss, it goes hand in hand with bliss.

This is something I wrote a time ago and entered in a contest, it didn't win, but I still like it!

-Cedar

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

The Deciet of a Rose

Roses can be liars. They say that they'll never wilt, they say their fragrance will abound forever. Truly they can bloom today and wilt tomorrow. They pour out their lovely odor but to rot sooner rather than later.
The thorns that dilapitate their image, their supreme beauty, they lie not, but show that they are ugly, yet willful and stay long after the roses have fallen. The remembrance of the rose is marred by the existence of the pricking thorns. A mere shadow of the former glory, the now brown petals lay lifeless on the earths floor, they boast no more. Their fragrance has deserted them, they rot alone, while the thorns mock from the twisted bush that once held so much, now so bare. Beauty fades but the shadow remains.


-Cedar Stormcloud 

Monday, June 3, 2013

The Peaches

Laughter fills my ears.
Happiness is always with the Peaches.
Sobs heave my chest,
Sorrow follows me like a rain cloud.
The Peaches break through my gloom,
Warming my heart,
Bringing bliss to my mind.

A happy family!

-Cedar

Saturday, June 1, 2013

A Starry Sky

All through the night they labored.
Never did they move, nor did they complain.
Their beady red eyes saw only their duty, to shine.
Their glow-in-the-dark green bodies looked like torches,
In the black night sky.
It began to rain, but far up in the darkness,
Beyond the gloomy clouds they still shone brightly.
Dawn put the stars to sleep,
The sun took over,
Pouring his warmth and light all over the green world.
Soon after twilight,
They opened their little red eyes,
And began to shine.
First one,
Then another,
Til they were all twinkling and sparkling,
In the great blue-black sky.

-Cedar Sunshine

Thursday, May 30, 2013

A Comforter

The Lord is kind and we are blind,
So in his arms we find,
A solace from the sin he binds.

Wednesday, May 29, 2013

The Harvest

The cold morrow,
The chirping sparrow,
All with a purpose all aglow.
Meet the grace as pure as snow,
Heaven above, earth below,
How heavy the burden may seem,
When with the wind it blows,
The harvest that we reap,
We also did sow.

-Cedar

Monday, May 27, 2013

Thoughts

So many people, so many lives,
How many strive,
and how many dive,
Through the thin facade of fantasy,
into the uncanny reality?

Sunday, May 26, 2013

A Sentiment

 Story letters from Z.O.Z. and myself.


  My dearest,
In a brighter frame of mind, I might say I am well. I am not. Not well at all. I wish I could melt into a puddle, and float away, down the stream of my own mind. What I wouldn't give for a hand to hold..
Why is it we speak so much, yet I feel no warmth from you..? I thought it was me.
 I tried again and again to change for you. Nothing made a difference, because it was not I, after all.
You never loved me..it was my silly childish dream to believe a man like you would ever love such a silly, silly girl. I don't think you have a heart, do you? It Is as I thought, you are devoid of feeling. If you do have a heart, it must be as cold as your eyes. How could you shun me so? Without even a remorseful thought? I LOVE you!! Or I did...no, I do still. Because I am silly, as mother always said.
Your betrayal cuts deeper than the knife you plunged into his majesty's heart. Please write to me..I will not shun YOU.

-Violet Wilde


   V.W.

You are the silly girl you used to be, and you will always be. Like your name, your emotions run wild. I could never love such a flippant girl. That you are a child, I am adamant.
The king deserved that jeweled dagger. They LITERALLY celebrated at his funeral. I am an outlaw, yet a celebrity. Please do NOT reply to this. I simply haven't the time. Though you are annoying, you always linger in my mind...
-T.


-Cedar

Monday, May 13, 2013

Colors

Red is love and red is hate, please don't tell me you love me or on my nerves you shall grate!
Pink is bubbly and pink is haughty, Free me. From the giggling girl, from the piercing eyes of she.
Purple isn't deep, nor is it shallow, it's not contempt nor disdain. It's achy, sobby, WANT. You can have it, but you must give. Will you? Indecision.
Green is sick and green is minty fresh. Green is springy light-hearted-ness. Oh! Bliss!
Blue is sad and blue is deep. Take a daring leap and see, you can soar in the air or swim in the sea. Oh, so free!
Orange is peeved and oranges are peeled. It's full of zest and citrus, orange is a spice to life.
Grey is melancholy, grey is sad. Deep sighs roll, thunder sounds. Dark clouds gather, casting shadows on the ground.
Black is deep and black is wide, my pen over this paper glides. My mind's carpet is leaving on a trip, I'm along for the ride. I am off to the side, hanging onto the tassels, gripping for dear thoughts.
Black is my inner being.


Yellow is for Cedar Sunshine of course!

-Cedar

 

Saturday, May 11, 2013

Ggpaw

    A man with once broad shoulders, now hunched with age.
He has white hair on both sides of his head, a smooth island of skin is isolated atop the face,
Crinkled by laughter, and also by tears.
A pair of gray-blue eyes peer at you through metal rimmed glasses,
This man, Full of God,
This man who has lived through 61 years of marriage,
And had 7 kids,
This man 83 years old,
This man,
Is my Ggpaw.
Do you have a Ggpaw too?

Ggpaw = Great grandfather

-Cedar :)

Please follow my blog with Bloglovin! :D

Friday, May 10, 2013

Brothers

   With trembling hands, he stands,
A pile of parchment he holds, all folded so neat.
 
   Who should these letters greet?

None other than his brother.
   So blackened and soiled are his hands, which hold the letters,
Written to his betters.
   An honest man, his brother was, all the letters proclaimed,
But why should all these arrows at me be aimed?
   The man frowned.
A horrid lad, so beastly bad!
  So all the letters had said.
Maybe that is what led to a worse life instead?
   HE had it all!
So why should the blame fall on me?
   Over was I called, however I stalled,
Still was I here, when he steared,
   Nearer and nearer...
to that fated bay.

   Where his enemy laid.

His watery grave holds him as a slave.
   He wasn't brave, merely too far into a rave.
Deeply sighing, he lets go of all.
   Down floats the parchment papers.
They fall and taper together with all the rest,
   On his stone cold breast.

-Cedar



Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Letters

   My cousin and I are friends, the deepest of friends.We do have pen names, hers being Z.O.Z. , mine being O.B. We enjoy writing  poetry, here are two letters that have a lot of  poetic quality.
  
   O.B.

I am in, how do you say it, a bright frame of mind.
So much awaits us, if we only reach out our hands to grasp it.
Such ideas... such triumph! Forgive me, my thoughts wander... Have you ever noticed how beautiful words look as they form on paper? They grow under the tip of my pen... Like flowers blooming brightly beneath a shower of rain. When I live a day in my life, I  want it to be worthwhile.
I want each day to be productive. I want each day to be blooming with the flowers of spring.
I'm sorry, my thoughts are vague and obscure. Perhaps you can decode them, with a mind as deep and poetic as yours. I enjoy our talks... I shall speak to you again soon.

    Z.O.Z.


    Z.O.Z.

Your mind is a beautiful picture, frame it in modesty, the brightest joy, and pure love.
The love that is within your heart of hearts. I feel as if the horizon is so far away, but really I am a silhouette against the golden sky. Atop a hill I stand, not of sand, but of rocky land.
   Oh, ideas roll over my mind, like the tide rolls over a reef.
My thoughts usually wander, but why stop them? There's no telling where they'll take you. It maybe a long and tedious trip, but our pilgrimage will end, and our earned reward  will be delivered.
Yes, words look so becoming on paper. Like frost on the individual blades of grass. They look like glass.
Like two pieces of metal being welded together under a shower of sparks. Or a newly wed couple coming down the chapel steps, being showered with rice.
  My mind is like a gurgling creek. It bubbled and foams, it flows around bend after bend.
  Words, paper, pencil, my hand, and my flying carpet, oh they skip merrily together, my carpet's tassels turning my hand, which directs my pencil across this paper, creating ideas from mere WORDS.
  I would surely be an inkblot on the surface of humanity if I was unable to express myself thru words.
Words give meaning  to our feelings, giving them names and shapes, so we can express our emotions thru them.
I too wish to be of service along this pilgrim way!
I want each day of mine to be full of truth. Full of goodness, glory and righteousness.
I can relate,  my friend, poetical 'nonsense' , is my specialty. Vague and obscure are my cousins, we go hand in hand in hand, frolicking the whole day in verse.

Hasta luego.

O.B.

Moving Forward

 Move forward, dear,
Move over, into the clear,
Look past,
Live every day like it's your last,
Into God's word let your heart's line be cast,
Grow up, into the fullness of the truth,
Even when faced with the uncouth,
 We must rise,
For ahead of us lies,
A prize,
The pearly gates of heaven.


Enjoy!

-Cedar

Lost

     A large vessel is tossed to and fro upon dark waters. An angry storm is brewing on the sea, as you shall see. The pirate captain paces his cabin thinking. He strokes his bristly black beard.
Thump Thump Thump turn.
Three strides, turn on heel.
Thump Thump Thump turn.
His heavy brown boots strike the wooden floor. How to get to port in one piece. How? His brown eyes are bloodshot and won't stay closed long enough for him to get rest. His bushy black brows are knitted together in frustration. He sighs involuntarily and fingers his dagger. How to slip out of this guillotine with my head on my shoulders?
     The chief sailor's mind labors.
Thump Thump Thump turn.
     Down below the crew is sitting oddly quiet around the mess table.
The cook rings his stained canvas apron over and over in his shaking pale hands. The cabin boy's face droops and sags with fatigue and his blue eyes are rigid. He pinches his arm to keep his eyelids from closing. How long had they been sitting there? He inwardly groaned, He was quite sore. A rough faced sailor of 45 thumbed through a scarred Bible. It's brown leather cover is cracked and torn, the brittle pages are defaced. The print is mostly illegible, but he keeps it all the same.
   He traces over the faded cross on the front of the book with his finger, over and over again.
Thump Thump Thump turn.
  The cook throws down his apron in despair. "He should've come to a decision by now!" He cries, his young grey eyes shine with unshed tears.
The crew looks at him, regards him coldly a moment, and then begin to converse.
"Do ya think we'll make et out thus time?"
a small grey lad asks worriedly.
"O' course we will!"
A burly man with a chipped tooth bellows irritably.
"If the Lord wills it."
The middle aged man points out.
"O shut it, preacher!" A ruddy man growls.
   Preacher shrugs, and retraces the dissolving cross.
"Keep awake boy!" The burly man gives the cabin boy a rough shove.
"Oh!" He mutters, sitting erect in his spot.
Thump Thump Thump turn. 
   Rain begins to cascade in torrents upon the ship.
The ruddy man growls and stands up. The man with the chipped tooth follows suit.
Thump Thump Thump turn.
   The captain sighs.
"All is lost."
Thump...hesitation...THUMP!
   The entire crew starts, and runs upstairs to the chief's cabin.
They swing the door wide, and there lays their leader, his cream shirt stained crimson...with his own blood.
His dagger protrudes from his chest, and as if on a timer, the boat capsizes at the death of it's commander.
   All is lost this night, for the crew of the FLEW...all, save a decrepit Bible, that floats, like a corpse, to the water's surface.




How was that?

-Cedar

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Time

60 seconds tick by quickly,
making a minute.
60 minutes make an hour.
24 hours make a day.
7 days a week.
4 weeks,
1 month.
Twelve months create an entire year.
365 days have come and gone,
but everything is exactly the same.
Or is it..?
I'll let you decide.

Remember who created time itself.
God is the divine maker.

-Cedar

Wednesday, April 3, 2013

My Carpet

   An eruption of inspiration,
Lights up my seething mind.
   Carrying my carpet away,
On a swift breeze.
   Bound for anywhere,
But here.


My friends joke that my mind is like a flying carpet, flitting here and there at its whim (and often leaving the safety of my head lol)!


I wrote the poem on the back of this painting I made. Hope you like it!

-Cedar


Tuesday, April 2, 2013

A Little Ray

   The first rays of sunlight
Pour over the mountain
   They shine to kill
All malice and hate
   Restoring peace
To this beloved valley


Just a little something I wrote. :)

-Cedar

Thursday, March 28, 2013

Night and Day

 The day is gorgeous in its own way. With the deep blue sky and the rolling hills of clouds. The smell of fall is in the air on this delightfully warm autumn day. The sun burns brightly and warms the air. I like the sun and moon alike. The moon is a pool of lilies, the stars are the petals of a dandelion. Someone made a wish and blew all the stars into the rich, silky sky. Some like moonlight and others like sunlight, but I like the sun and moon alike.
 Which do you prefer?

-Cedar Sunshine, or Moonbeam

Friday, March 22, 2013

Resolution

Resolutions are like trees.
In one years time a resolution can live and die like leaves.
In the spring and summer the resolution (leaves) are green, fresh and active.
But by fall they start to fade.
Then they get brown with age and begin to fall.
Here the resolution dies.
But in spring there arises another resolution, but for what?
To die in the end?
Let our resolutions be like the evergreen!
All green, all year.
Fresh and new.
Determined,
as always.


Hope you like it,
Cedar

Friday, March 15, 2013

One

Never knowing what a day may bring,
Clouds may darken, birds may sing,
To this hope I cling:
Never an ache ne'er a sting is ever felt by a lone being.

He is there to chase away all fear,
Always near, ready to hear,
Glad tidings, have cheer,
He will steer us clear.

Thru the winter to the spring,
To the only grace I fling,
All my laughter all my tears,
He's the only one who brings,
Joy and sadness ore the years,
The Lord of Lords, the King of Kings.


God is the greatest inspiration.

-Cedar

Friday, March 8, 2013

Frazer

Down a wooded lane strolled a lanky youth.
His laughing grey eyes were barely visible, for his masses of auburn curls poured down his forehead and brow.
With a vigorous shake of his head, Frazer, having freed his roving eyes, surveyed the Wintry woodland.
Tall, leafless trees looked down their noses at him.
Chiding squirrels ran up in dizzying circles up and up the solemn oaks.
Oh! Look!
One even dared to scurry up the ancient cedar!
The other squirrels stopped and stared in awe.
T'was not ANY squirrel, but the old grey one, Chief, as Frazer called him.
His eyes twinkled with merriment as he rounded a bend in the snowy road.
Soon though, his curls slunk back down his brow, blanketing his view of the wintry wood.
Just as the soft, steady falling snow blanketed that wooded lane.


Frazer actually means curly hair. :)

-Cedar

Thursday, March 7, 2013

Bravery: The Greater Part Of Stupidity

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying there are not dumb people, because there are some seriously DUMB people out there.
I'm not here to discuss them, I just didn't want to confuse anyone.
I wanted to discuss the idealist, who endeavors to overcome a seemingly impossible task, or force. People that stand in the way of the idealist, or are acquainted with one, will call them crazy, or even STUPID. Those who do not share the idealist frame of mind, might be forced to leave their comfort zone to achieve a goal. They are not willing to make a stand for the greater good.
They ( those who call the idealist stupid) wouldn't do anything, regardless of the repercussions, that would take them out of their comfortable little lives.
They wouldn't succeed if they tried, because they do not have a belief like the idealist does. Some people are happy with this misery.
I am not.

Thank you Brea, for all your helpful support & comments! XD

- Cedar

Sunday, March 3, 2013

My Picture

It is indigo in the very center, and pales to a pearly baby blue around the edges.
Across the blue is  great masses of white and grey, scurrying along or just standing still, they are usually there.
This blue can suddenly be hidden by grey, or be dim or be scorching and bright.
The wide beautiful sky is my ever changing picture, God is constantly coming around, looking below, and leaving  a trail of dusty clouds. For we must know, that He always sees us.


The sky is my delight, I could spend hours simply staring at it! I love Gods creations.
-Cedar

Saturday, March 2, 2013

A World Without Words

On a bumpy car ride through the rain,
I look out at the world through tear stained panes.
The leafless trees stretch o'er the road,
Trying to grasp ahold of each other.
But to no avail.
Their hope is stale,
And they're rightfully bare.
Don't you even care,
To share,
The wondrous work of writing.


Without writing, the trees are bare and the wind is bitter.

-Cedar

Friday, March 1, 2013

Away

   Pen and paper confuse me.
Their vastness is impossible to fathom.
 The meaning is right before my eyes, yet I don't see it.
I cannot read it.
   When droning voices read classic tales of literature,
A loud buzz fills my ears.
   When I am told to write I cannot,
My hand is stiff and my inkwell is dry.
   But when inspiration seizes hold of my mind,
My hand is ready and my inkwell is full.
   The cogwheels of my mind begin to turn,
Inventing new and better ideas.
   I cannot hear the outside noise,
above the whir of the ever-turning wheels.
 Away chugs my train of thought to foreign lands.
   Away to the sea,
and the sky,
   and space.
The great unknown of the wilderness is inviting,
   While the crowded cities scare me.
Dodging in between the rails,
   away chugs my train of thought.
Without a trace of remorse,
   and without a thought of return.


   The above poem describes me while I'm writing. While writing I do not care for anything else. In body, I am here at my desk, but in mind I am gone. Away to other worlds, I am on an adventure dear reader, and this is the biggest one of all!

                                                                  -Cedar


Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Artists

   Musicians live lives through their songs. One joyous note could raise the hearts of the audience like the new moon. Likewise, a single sorrowful note could send tears of sympathy down the cheeks of the listeners of the symphony.
   Chefs inspire us with their delicate desserts. Food is their passion, they make us want more. Many a poor persons have achieved this work.
   Writers can send a chill down your spine with a sentence full of terror and of nightmarish horrors, or lift your spirit with a simple tale of truth. Love and hate, pride and humility. They are capable of crushing your mood or giving you a wild ride.
   Artists can describe life with a flourish of their brush. As clay in the potters hands can become your dream or envy.
   Look past the paint, clay, food, parchment, instruments, and SEE the Artist.
They all have the passion of life, and the means to express it.

   Come all writers, tell each other what you think, hear what others can say to you, how they can help you, and how we can thrive.

Someday I hope to be an author.
-Cedar