Welcom To

Welcom To
By AquarianM

Monday, December 30, 2002

*Afterglow*:

From Wigwam & Shaker's Spell Dictionary:

1. The residual glow one finds after,
a. A keen-witted whizzyrds battle.
b. A really good wigwam shake.
c. A comet passes by.
d. A supernova explodes.
e. Being snowed in in the frozen North for three days.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/30/2002

Author's Comments:
Complete instructions for casting most of these
*afterglow* spells can be found all over the
spellweb. Item "c" is classified "restricted" under
item squaggledy b-34a by the Grand Patoobah
Whizzyrds Council as a "hazard to living planets
should an idiot or evil Blech Mejishun cast it." Item
d. is classified "Noway Hosay" by the Grand
Patoobah Whizzyrds Council. See Spellreg Guide
"Multi-planetary Destruction Hazard" index A for
"Astronomically Dangerous".
New Year Haiku:

Time shines bright coming,
Brilliant and poignant while here,
Glows soft once past us.

Aquarianm

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/30/2002
All Good News Rag:

See No Evil, Hear No evil, Speak No Evil,
Remembered from long gone away days,
I saw this in the vision of clowning furry monkeys,
Like some antique joke or pun,
Yet whenever I click on today's news,
Or get newsprint ink upon fingers,
Any more, any more,
The joke is no longer funny,
So full of fear I fear,
Perhaps some day I shall find the small print,
A ray of sunshine and hope,
Some lonely editor in a worn down building,
Who remembers the pun as wisdom,
Where they print the "All Good News Rag".

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/30/2002

Author's Comments:
Just wishing I could find the "good news" channel.
Current media is missing the balance.

Tuesday, December 24, 2002

Christmas Eve Miracle:

All week wishing,
Praying and hoping all along,
My little boy and the little boy in me,
Wonder and will it,
Be white on Christmas day?

The ground was bare brown grass,
The sky was quite clear,
December 23rd and the weathermen said no,
All will be quite chilly and clear,
But upon opening the blinds on Christmas Eve,
There were flakes all flying by the street lights,
The blue iced pond and grass covered in white,
The grass was disappearing,
To work was a peaceful slow drive,
It must be a minor miracle,
God made the weathermen out a lie,
I'm here at work on Christmas Eve,
And what we'd been hoping for is coming down outside,
All we had to do was pray,
And of course, believe!

Merry Christmas!!!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/24/2002

Author's Comments:
This is no "doctored" story. There was no snow yesterday
at all around Chicago, and the weather forecasts all said cold and
clear. Yet when I looked out tonight...it's beautiful. *S*

Friday, December 20, 2002

Angel RX:

I hear the angel,
Whispering inside my head,
Something softly Baby,
What she said,
Oh what she said...

I see the glory hallowed,
Haunting a lonely sky,
Angels standing on the clouds,
A deluge of angel voices cry,
My eyes were ghosted over by you tearful blind...

I hear the angel,
Whispering inside my head,
Something softly Baby,
What she said,
Oh what she said...

Take your medicine real slow,
You sugar as sweet as sweet,
Touch the healing hand,
Up on your feet,
Tonight they're dancing in the street...

I hear the angel,
Whispering inside my head,
Something softly Baby,
What she said,
Oh what she said...

Throw your hands up and pray,
Ripples on the pond where you cry,
Reflect the clashing sounds of good-bye,
But I pulled you back again,
When she told me touch the sky...

I hear the angel,
Whispering inside my head,
Something softly Baby,
What she said,
Oh what she said...

Just walk in love,
Just walk in love,
What falls from your eyes,
I'll kiss off you cheeks in our sweet time,
Just look up tonight...

I hear the angel,
Whispering inside my head,
Something softly Baby,
What she said,
Oh what she said...

Ave, ave, just look up,
Just walk in love,
Pour your heart upon the waters,
Ave, ave just look up tonight,
Just...walk....in...love....

I hear the angel,
Whispering inside my head,
Something softly Baby,
What she said,
Oh what she said...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/20/2002

Author's Comments:
I heard this like a song, but I couldn't sing it.
I wanted to breath it to life, but I couldn't wing it.
Where, oh where's a diva when you're in need?

Thursday, December 19, 2002

Christmas Audio Spells:

Calling All Snowflakes MP3 - 525kb

Snow Down MP3 - 932kb

The Electric Elf MP3 - 1.9mb

Whissler's Paradise MP3 - 3.9mb

Merry Christmas, and thank you for listening!
Winterneed:

My eyes are blue with wonder,
Tresses of white place in my dreams,
I see and hear silent white in the night,
Crystal is the vision of ice as it grows,
The might of fractal chill beauty,
Begun on a simple window pane,
The clouds soft cover soon to bear,
The soft soft haze of falling white bless this land,
Summer needs your tears dear Winter,
The season begs you appear,
We've laid out lights and shown rosy cheeks,
There is a morning coming,
Made to be decked in your colors,
Come to us dear Winter in our time of rest,
Blanket the Earth in the pure white that heals,
Let the parks and ponds and streams be adorned,
Deck the world in opulent translucent blue,
In platinum and silver and crystalline hues,
Illuminate our breath within the sky,
For without your twinkling glinting ice,
We languish in a dry brown barren missing you,
Winter, Winter, bring your snowflake minions nigh,
Your archangel Jack Frost touch the sky,
Breath soft white and hush our hurried time,
In our hours of Winterneed.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/189/2002

Author's Comments:
I've waited patiently for her season to begin,
Next week is Christmas, find the child in you
and welcome the snow to your grounds,
For she brings the gift of water and life to
pave the path to Spring and growth.
Calling All Snowflakes:

Calling all Snowflakes,
Cloud City please come in,
Send out the Snow Angels,
Jack Frost, where ya been,
Christmas is a comin',
We need a world of white,
We're missing Lady Winter,
Wish her here by first Christmas light,
Calling all Snowflakes,
Please come on down,
Before Santa and the children,
All wear a frown,
Whoosh and swirl and blow,
Come on out and snow, snow, snow!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/13/2001


Author's Comments:
Wishin' for snow in time for Christmas.
This feels weird to be so warm.
Shadow Magic:

How did the Dragon touch me,
Right where my silhouette broaches the Earth,
At the very moment the full Moon silvered the Solstice Star?

Can you see my darkness where no creature casts shade?

There was only blowing snow to go by,
Yet I no longer can experience cold,
Banished outside time.

Eons pass as the magic fades, I am the last witness.

In the time before minds met,
Before words had solidified existence,
I was met with the Draconian Shadow Curse.

I live by pale moonlight and bright stars.

I've watched the modern children,
With their miraculous lights and cold steel toys,
At my closest season to life they are jubilant.

Existing as a shadow all the year long.

Each round of Earth to Sun,
I can only touch this existence on one cold lonely night,
So on that night's inception I wept a tear.

Two thousand years ago and more.

I fell to the ground by torch light,
And at the edge of reality I saw the embodiment of love,
The King who would call miracles to order.

Condemned to eternity as a figment I was willing nevertheless.

As I gave my ancient soul to his keeping,
The infant Ruler of Love on Earth,
He saw me and chanced to smile his first smile.

Have you ever been cast to the heavens trailing tears of joy?

He gave me a gift incredibly precious,
For though I am shadow as the Sun is shining,
At night I am become one of his shining Christmas stars.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/18/2002

Author's Comments:
I imagined a magical being cursed to exist only
as a shadow from the age of magic, one who
surrendered to the Prince of Peace and was granted
mercy in Heaven.

Wednesday, December 18, 2002

Slow Song:

My eyes were on fire all night...

I saw you across the room,
Couldn't help but stare,
What happens under my skin can't be controlled,
My feet are moving all on their own,
Left me standing in front of you,
With a heart in the throat question stuck there,
As the slow beat comes on,
The guitar wails and moans sweet,
Will you?

Take my hand my eyes are melting,
I saw the flames reflected in your eyes,
The lights are dancing but my eyes are closed,
Lost in pulling you close,
Voice utters without my consent,
Without even knowing,
Just under the threshold of felt,
I can feel your heart my heart hammer,
Not an inch of you without an inch of me,
Now I know the epitome of a soft curve,
As I'm drowning in your scent.

Did the music stop before or after,
Your electricity eyes,
Welded me to your soft hot lips?

Didn't the world swirl,
As you walked tonight,
Hand in mine out the door,
With that little finger stroke,
That told me hard let's go?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/18/2002

Author's Comments:
Reminiscence upon reflection of the words
I've found in here this morning.

Tuesday, December 17, 2002

Chillshades:

The scope of the sky is false,
The cues of sunlight say Winter at this slant,
The solstice just days off in the wings,
But the sunshine and temperature are out to lie,
Put on those cheap sunglasses Baby,
To keep the sun from your eyes,
But in this now hot orange world,
Remember Winter,
She comes back in the dark of the night,
So all that snow is just pending,
Let's tuck each other in,
And be each others' candle light.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/17/2002

Author's Comments:
Just a note from this past weekend.

Hope everyone out there is enjoying the season.

Monday, December 16, 2002

*POOF*

I've been out of this corner of the blogverse trying to salvage a magical place in the multiverse known as Hotel Baker - so if you see a bit of lack of presence, please feel free to wander about the spells that have gone before, and rest assured, the whizzyrd will return in force in the near future! Meanwhile, I need to collect a certain spell for use in another plane...

*POOF*

Friday, December 13, 2002

It seems the *hourglass* has turned many times since I've been able to do much more than post a brief missive in here. I will try to do better, but no *binding oaths*. There is a pleasant *holiday* feel all about the blogverse, it seems all is awaiting the white wash of the Snow Goddess' Tears. Perhaps the Elves and Spirits council will set that tone soon.

There has been a disturbance in the *balance* of late, I'm in the process of casting *scrying* spells all around the crystal screens to try to find a way to help. This one I fear will require far more *greenspells* than I alone possess. Perhaps I will find other whizzyrds willing to assist in a collective casting. You see, there is a grand keep known as the *Hotel Baker* that is made of lovely brown stone, and has a magic *Rainbow Room* for all the Whizzyrds Balls and fabulous feasts, as well as extremely nice guest quarters.The place is rife with *history* and even is home to a couple of wayward spirits of the *Ghostly* clan. It seems the modern day whizzyrds that held the *title* to the place were practicing *Blech Mejik* by trying to create a *BLECH HOLE* spell to suck in *greenspells* against the laws of *nature*. They were caught in a *scrying* by the Whizzyrds Council Federale and they lost title. So the grand old keep has been *! SHUDDER !* shuttered. Only the *Ghost* people are there now. This is extremely sad. You can view details by going to the *Monotnuss* crystal screen at Hotel Baker
Pin Dancer:

Spin and spin,
Centrifugal force,
Is that what keeps you up?

Turn this way and that,
Seeing every fire under the Sun and Moon,
But where are all the fire hoses?

Spread thin like the last of the jam,
I wonder if I'm orange marmalade on ham,
Or even how much more the body can stand?

Don't know all the right steps,
But you'd best wear real thick hard soled shoes,
When you're doin' the Dervish atop the point of a pin.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/13/2002

Author's Comments:
My physical universe has a hard time keeping up
with my mind and spirit.

Tuesday, December 10, 2002

Mmmm...the light is shining above, the night life has slipped away, it's time to cast a *pillow* spell and drift off to dream visions in soft red light...

*POOF*
How To Move (Me):

Baby feel another way to move when you're around,
Wound up in the sound of your fire,
Have you ever lost your mind at the slightest sign,
Fill my eyes with desire,
See you sway like the wind at play,
Touch me in the music,
Touch me in the heart,
Take me by storm where the dreams all start,
Sound of your voice going over my edge,
All I need to lose my head,
Oh, baby you're my wild child,
Reason's been filed away,
Sway in my eyes like the fire inside,
Body electric under my hands,
Shocked with your allure,
Under your spell,
I have to move, can't you tell?
It's a very fine grind every time,
Baby feel another way to move when you're around,
Wound up in the sound of your fire,
Have you ever lost your mind at the slightest sign,
Fill my eyes with desire,
See you sway like the wind at play,
Blow me away.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/09/2002

Author's Comments
I still have that beat stuck in my head.
I remember a crystal screen vision once that spoke about making *music* magic, some of the prettiest magic of all. It said you needed *words* and *music* blended together to craft the art. Somehow, someday, I need to find a *music* whizzyrd to work with my words.
Fire Of The Flower:

Orchids in bloom,
Filled with songs of wind and abandon,
See the blush of their heat,
Shimmer your vision,
Sounds of their song drive you wild,
Beauty wraiths in glory,
Upon their self made Orchid Throne,
Voices burning into your depths,
Youth and fire and desire,
Every scent and sight and sound,
Plays you upon the field,
Where the flowers dance you to paradise,
Magic you can't touch,
Can you hear the dream,
Blooming to the beat,
In a Fireflower blush,
Hear the Wild Orchids,
Just,
Oh, just hush,
And listen,
With your eyes,
With your ears,
The Orchids,
Sway,
That way,
Hush,
Blush...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/09/2002

Author's Comments:
Based on the Gal Band "Wild Orchid" and
the glam and Rapsong sound they have goin' on.
Wild Orchid
I had an interesting look at a screen belonging to a coven of lady bards that call themselves Wild Orchid just a bit ago, it seems the third member of the coven has left and they are only two now. So sad, they did a Christmas vision last year that was absolutely stunning in my opinion. At some point I'm going to ckeck further into their *vibrations* on crystal disc and see how their non-holiday sound is.
I don't know what made that one appear in the old crystal screen just now, but *mnemonic* visions appear just when they've a fate to, so there it is.
I'd say it's time for a good old war story.

There once was an old whizzryd named Rudini. (He was really, really old. Ancient. Antique.) Generally, he was full of *happy* spells, but as young whizzyrds, one of our Circle decided to buzz him with a taunting *chant* spell. It was particularly unpleasant to that generation, and old Rudini sent a *flying rake* spell on us, the rake chasing us down the sidewalk and scattering the circle. Still, the nervy aprentiwhizzyrd kept up his taunt spell until both he and old Rudini were all tuckered out. (Somehow, I don't think it's very pleasant to have a magic bullhorn follow you around chanting "Come on, Rudini, get some buttini, I done had me some!" for hours on end, either.) The sad part was, poor ol' Rudini was never very nice to apprentimages after that day. He had been somewhat of a friend of my Grandfather's, so I wasn't too thrilled with the whole thing, but it WAS pretty funny at first. Personally, I think the young Stinkerspell that set up the *chant* was lucky old Rudini didn't fry him and have his brains on the cauldron, but for some reason he chose not to.

Monday, December 09, 2002

Dream In Red Velvet:

I had fallen through the fog of sleep,
Landed on a gentle touch calling eylids open,
The Angel Of Fire stands in my eyes,
Where the winds are hot and steam blasts free,
There is a red sky in all directions,
Even up and down,
Mirrors whirl slowly at our edges,
Eye corner glances amid red velvet flickering,
As slowly silk and cotton fall free to disappear,
My eyes are pulled into the fire...

Skin under gliding fingertips,
Cupped hands overflowing with soft warm delight,
The wet taste of fire burns sweet on the tongue,
Just the right touch ignites the straining fuse,
Eyes filled with uncontrollable magic vision,
Scenes burn into us igniting our cores,
Touching and incredibly touched,
Enspelled to a rhythmic electric connection,
Touch bombs we've become,
Giving voices helplessly to the explosion.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/08/2002

Author's Comments:
Interesting wave we're all riding. I wrote this before
I read a single poem, but it seems there's some spice out
there in the undermind of late.

Friday, December 06, 2002

Whissler's Paradise:

Snow flakes fall in a small town,
Early on on a mid-December eve,
An old man meanders slowly through the snow,
For once in his many years,
He has a place to go.

Street lights only add to the Christmas light cheer.

He'd sipped from the bottle,
The one in the pocket of his tatty black overcoat,
Just enough to get a warm glow in his center,
He walked down the decorated sidewalks,
Past places running down slowly that he'd known for years.

Cracked sidewalks and rust, busted shingles and faded paint.

The snow covered any litter,
Falling on an eyelash or cheek in cold awakening,
He walked slowly with purpose,
Unlike the street people with no place to get warm,
He had a small apartment filled with memories.

Lonely winter years lair.

Soon the sign his rheumy old eyes sought was ahead,
Faded and flaking colors held hints of past glory,
"Majestic" in bold lettering a masquerade of days gone by,
There was something special playing,
It had been so many years.

Glory days will pass you by.

As he drew near Christmas music played,
Kind and gentle and sweet like he remembered it,
Although there were few who would know these songs,
As long ago as it had been since there had been charts,
Let alone they'd been atop such a thing.

All those notes now played in Heaven.

He stood under the lights he so long had remembered,
And the faded colorful marquis read something,
Something he'd thought dead long ago,
In these days of holograms and space colonies,
"It's a Wonderful Life" in grand, so grand bold.

Visitations were now due.

A smile and a tear escaped his face in the same moment,
And his eyes closed as he saw Her there,
Some butter-haired pixie girl he once knew,
He remembered plucked daisies and a shiny Schwinn,
Blue jeans and puff coats and incessant youth.

When love was still alive and hugging.

His lips tingled with memories of a long-gone high school kiss,
And she faded into his longing missing lonely heart,
And he opened his eyes and walked up to the booth,
A novelty in his hand many hadn't seen in years,
Crisp green bills of paper, real paper.

No picochip implant readers here.

The child at heart wearing grey pigtails in the box office,
Took his bills and popped another faded novelty,
Bubble gum pink as she smiled with her red and green bows,
She handed him real paper tickets,
And he smiled shaking as he stepped inside.

Oh, the smell of popcorn butter!

They say scent is the last to go,
That was his thought as he looked at chrome and glass,
Waiting in the concession line,
Imagine a concession line after so much time,
Movie posters brought so many memories to flooding front.

Walking toward the usher, real live usher!

He walked in and sat down amongst a sea,
A sea of white and grey hair and smiling tears,
And the lights dimmed away softly,
The old silver screen flickered to glowing life,
The notes and credits rolled in black and white flickers.

Oh, God, Jimmy looks so young!

They found him there with smiling still eyes,
The half eaten popcorn in his cold hand,
A salty tear drying on his cheek,
The coke was still full of ice in the cup holder,
No longer lonely or old Mr. Whissler.

He's now the ghost of Christmas past.

I hear Christmas bells ringing, I swear, somewhere.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

(C) 12/15/2001

Author's Comments:
I've seen it happen to generations before,
in time we all must go here, the things we
love fade from the world slowly drawing
us off into the sparkling night.
The Electric Elf:

'Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the house,
The parents were scrambling,
Because the twinkle lights were out!

'Twas the night before Christmas and no one slept a wink,
Where are those spare Christmas bulbs,
Oh please help me think,
Before I call a Christmas shrink!

'Twas the night before Christmas and I keeled over in bed,
As my wife and I looked at the clock in dread,
I set the alarm for six when the clock said four thirty,
So don't blame Mrs. Claus if Santa is surly!

The bells just rang without moving the sleigh,
Oh, my goodness, it's Christmas Day!

I hopped in my suit and a candle I lit,
I ran down the stairs and I stared like a twit,
For just at the tree was an incredible sight,
There was a Neon Elf with a spare Christmas light!

Yes, the stockings were twinkling,
The tree was ablaze with blinking,
The windows were glowing,
Outside it was even now snowing!

I shook and I sputtered,
I think I must have quite stuttered,
As I thanked him and all his ilk,
I even handed over Santa's left over cookies and milk!

Well, he winked,
I swear his eyes blinked,
And quicker than you could say Blitzen,
Up the chimney that Electric Elf was splittin',
A whoosh I heard and I saw a cloud of soot,
The last thing to go was a lighted Kid Nike foot!

Then I heard giggles from the top of the stairs,
I hurried and emptied my bag of merchants' wares,
The tinsel tree was glowing just bright as could be,
Lit by the now fixed cloured light rotisserie,
And down the stairs came my little kids,
When they saw all the lights they quite flipped their lids!

Soon Mrs. Santa arrived and all was Christmas glee,
As little Whosits tore paper up under the tree,
And that's when I thanked my lucky stars,
Mrs. Santa's from Venus,
But that Electric Elf left toy light up cars!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/16/2001

Author's Comments:
I know it's a bit early, but the Muse' gifts
are given when She's ready, so here we are.
(PS: The spell checker wanted to replace Blitzen - with "blitzed"!) *LOL*








Thursday, December 05, 2002

Whissler's Paradise:

Snow flakes fall in a small town,
Early on on a mid-December eve,
An old man meanders slowly through the snow,
For once in his many years,
He has a place to go.

Street lights only add to the Christmas light cheer.

He'd sipped from the bottle,
The one in the pocket of his tatty black overcoat,
Just enough to get a warm glow in his center,
He walked down the decorated sidewalks,
Past places running down slowly that he'd known for years.

Cracked sidewalks and rust, busted shingles and faded paint.

The snow covered any litter,
Falling on an eyelash or cheek in cold awakening,
He walked slowly with purpose,
Unlike the street people with no place to get warm,
He had a small apartment filled with memories.

Lonely winter years lair.

Soon the sign his rheumy old eyes sought was ahead,
Faded and flaking colors held hints of past glory,
"Majestic" in bold lettering a masquerade of days gone by,
There was something special playing,
It had been so many years.

Glory days will pass you by.

As he drew near Christmas music played,
Kind and gentle and sweet like he remembered it,
Although there were few who would know these songs,
As long ago as it had been since there had been charts,
Let alone they'd been atop such a thing.

All those notes now played in Heaven.

He stood under the lights he so long had remembered,
And the faded colorful marquis read something,
Something he'd thought dead long ago,
In these days of holograms and space colonies,
"It's a Wonderful Life" in grand, so grand bold.

Visitations were now due.

A smile and a tear escaped his face in the same moment,
And his eyes closed as he saw Her there,
Some butter-haired pixie girl he once knew,
He remembered plucked daisies and a shiny Schwinn,
Blue jeans and puff coats and incessant youth.

When love was still alive and hugging.

His lips tingled with memories of a long-gone high school kiss,
And she faded into his longing missing lonely heart,
And he opened his eyes and walked up to the booth,
A novelty in his hand many hadn't seen in years,
Crisp green bills of paper, real paper.

No picochip implant readers here.

The child at heart wearing grey pigtails in the box office,
Took his bills and popped another faded novelty,
Bubble gum pink as she smiled with her red and green bows,
She handed him real paper tickets,
And he smiled shaking as he stepped inside.

Oh, the smell of popcorn butter!

They say scent is the last to go,
That was his thought as he looked at chrome and glass,
Waiting in the concession line,
Imagine a concession line after so much time,
Movie posters brought so many memories to flooding front.

Walking toward the usher, real live usher!

He walked in and sat down amongst a sea,
A sea of white and grey hair and smiling tears,
And the lights dimmed away softly,
The old silver screen flickered to glowing life,
The notes and credits rolled in black and white flickers.

Oh, God, Jimmy looks so young!

They found him there with smiling still eyes,
The half eaten popcorn in his cold hand,
A salty tear drying on his cheek,
The coke was still full of ice in the cup holder,
No longer lonely or old Mr. Whissler.

He's now the ghost of Christmas past.

I hear Christmas bells ringing, I swear, somewhere.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/15/2001

Author's Comments:
I've seen it happen to generations before,
in time we all must go here, the things we
love fade from the world slowly drawing
us off into the sparkling night.

Wednesday, December 04, 2002

Off to the *pillow* spell, I've cast a zillion telecomm spells last night, the gremlins can play with the other whizzyrds. Peace and thank you all for visiting, but even *coffein* spells are no longer working.

*POOF*

Tuesday, December 03, 2002

The Glow:

I wander the place with the eyes of a Christmas spirit,
Seeing magic at every turn,
The angel Grace flies in the stairwell,
Carrying her gift of a staff of wheat in one hand,
And a soft yellow light of warmth in the other,
The glass tree on the foyer table small and shining hot lights,
The Blue Angel rests in the corner under her star,
She that graced my childhood dreams,
Silverfrost the Snowman,
Dances on the dining room table,
Amidst his cotton puff drifts,
Outside two trees filled to brimming with happy lights,
Shedding a soft fifties Christmas glow,
And the dancing Lighted Snowmen,
All hurrah in a line 'round the snowed in garden,
The fixtures on the porches bright red and green,
And out front the white lit wreath over the garage light,
All down the street the magic carries on,
As neighbors in turn put out Christmas lights,
All of us remember with big child wide eyes,
Something wonderful and magical,
The Christmas Glow...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/03/2002

Author's Comments:
People are really going all out for Christmas this year.
I decorated yesterday outside, my wife did inside.
It looks wonderful and getting better daily.
Christmas Prayer:

I look into the Christmas candle and I see,
A flickering flame of hope for you and me,
Clasp your hands and raise your eyes,
Praise the Lord up in the skies,
Beg him way down on your knees,
No more anger if He'd please,
He sent messengers to speak of Love,
Grant the hope of a peaceful dove,
So let each of us Christmas Eve pray,
That the light of peace and love shall guide the way,
That fear and anger leave every heart,
And then the wonders will begin to start.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/03/2002

Author's Comments:
A sincere wish that we all make the personal choice
to abandon the practice of fear.
The hour is late and dark, and I'm visiting with visions of spirits. I see a star up in the sky so bright, that were I to cast magic far enough it just might reach, but the night is too cold to wander that far. Standing feet down in the castle, I can feel the freezing wind blast down my collar, the snow picked up off the ground by an angry Zephyr, and whizzed onto my cheeks and up my nostrils, which stick together by Winter's magic. The waters have grown hard translucent blue, the world turned to white, and even though the sky is open, it's frigid by starlight. When I look up to Jupiter I see the celestial hall of kings, the Palace of Archetypes. The Spirit of Music lives there, though we called him by his lesser name when he was here in the 1950's and made himself known. The Spirit of Wisdom that has visited under many guises, bringing new theories and understandings in each era. The Spirit of Dreams who moves my hand and so many others following the Path of the Pen. The Spirit of Love makes her home in another place closer to the Rosy Dawn. The Spirit of Strength lives there, though he's come often to crack a bat or throw a ball. These are his simpler, lesser spells, he has stood strong in places we're priveledged not to know. The Spirit of Fear has gone furthest from the warmth, hiding in amongst the snow heaps and cold reaches far from sight of Man, yet whispering errors into the undermind. His only dominion is through those who listen in naivete. These and many other spirits wander the halls of the soul, facets of the Godforce that we are able to somewhat comprehend. Take great care in hearing them, for the best of them is Love, she who guards the secrets of warmth. When she holds you to her bosom and opens the thighs of her heat, the Spirit of Passion can be then reborn, yet only her arms can cradle the Spirit of Understanding.
Law Of The Decorati:

Who are these reverse Christmas bandits,
That steal trees and lights into our life,
Somewhere in the frozen night?

Close your eyes and lights appear,
Maybe there or over here,
Try it yourself and you'll find,
The Law of the Decorati...

*At least three bulbs will burn out,
The tree is never even there's no doubt,
The fuses soon will blow,
Faster than blizzard snow,
All the spares in the world matter not,
When one socket gets too hot,
The snow will fall before you set foot out the door,
And you'll be out there six times more.*

When you see those beautiful Christmas lights,
Remember the Decorati and their plight,
Stealing away in the freezing night,
Facing chilblains and frost bite,
To give pleasure to your child sight.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12./03/2002

Author's Comments:
Just some fun with the Christmas decorating. Wish I could
get a hand from that Electric Elf...
Little Angel Walk The Sun:

Without dreams it's just too cold,
Always need your hand to hold,
Touch together light of gold,
In the sea of Heaven above,
Under a star of love.

Little Angel, walk the Sun,
Leave behind ice and cold,
When it's my love you hold,
Little Angel, walk the Sun.

See your toes dance across the sand,
Vision of footsteps across the land,
Washed out by the waves without your hand,
You are my promised land,
Heaven right where you stand.

Little Angel, walk the Sun,
Leave behind ice and cold,
When it's my love you hold,
Little Angel, walk the Sun.

I see a star in the sky,
Feel the fire way up high,
Lost in you too far to be shy,
Forgot to wonder why,
All I know is I'm alive.

Little Angel, walk the Sun,
Leave behind ice and cold,
When it's my love you hold,
Little Angel, walk the Sun.

Like a fiery star streaked across the night,
Of my dreams and inner sight,
You are the light,
In the sea of Heaven above,
Under a star of love.

Little Angel, walk the Sun,
Leave behind ice and cold,
When it's my love you hold,
Little Angel, walk the Sun.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/03/2002

Author's Comments:
The Muse is back, singing to me.

Monday, December 02, 2002

Seems like the Snow Goddess sure has a grip on the weather around here. The nice part is, it's pretty when she's in the mood to decorate. It's coming down out there like pixie dust in a hurricane.
Fade Of The Fall:

Look out the windows,
All the world is falling white,
Across the pond and into the distance,
Everything fades from hushed sight,
The fire flickers here inside warm,
Grey is the ruler,
Ice on the pond, sky, everything,
Fading to grey like the mood,
In this music contentment rested lies,
Contemplating shower and get out,
Soon I'll be hanging christmas lights,
Some snow storm laden Decorati,
As breath becomes visible,
And cold stings me to the bones,
Every inhalation speaks of Winter,
Here in the quiet life at home,
We'll cuddle tonight and just look,
And maybe I'll sing like Elvis,
I guess we all miss that guy,
They say to him Christmas was King,
At least of holidays,
Right now it's just the view falling out the window,
The closed in comfort,
Of the faded snow fall sky,
Is it just me,
Or is the whole world closer,
Hidden in the fade of the fall?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/02/2002

Author's Comments:
Just the way it feels right now, a relaxed day,
reminiscing of the Thanksgiving special we taped while
we were away and watched last night, and the calm rested feel
of today as the snow falls outside.

Sunday, December 01, 2002

In The Frozen Howling Night:

The truck moves slowly,
Jostled by high winds,
The white snow blows sideways,
Furiously flying past the windshield,
All about is dark and treacherously slippery,
With fools racing on the left,
Trying to sight the twin tracks,
Yawning furiously after midnight,
Gulping coffee in desperation,
As your yawning watering eyes seek sense,
Out of a world of red tail lights,
Dancing in and out of flying white,
The radio a stuttering static companion,
Somewhere in the frozen night,
Stop by the blue sign turning right,
Step out and the blast hits your face,
Snowflies race into your eyes,
Leaving wet drops on exposed skin,
All to the delight of rushing frozen wind,
You strain leaning towards the lighted doors,
Rest stop haven of tooth jangling relief,
And as you batten the snaps and buttons,
Soon to do battle with the freezing dark once more,
Still you know a bit of wonder,
Somehow there is beauty in the furious white,
As you struggle off crunching snow under your feet,
Charging ahead once more to the campaign,
With sleep and caffeine and driving,
On a winter storm lake effect night.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/01/2002

Author's Comments:
We arrived back home from my Brother's place at
two in the morning this morning, having battled through
a powerful lake effect blizzard in Southwestern Michigan,
Fighting snow and sleep and traffic valiantly, we had
prevailed.


Some excellent sites to see snow:

Mount Washington

Buffalo

Eagle

Big Bear

Washington

The Mount Washington site is spectacular!

I ran into this around Paw Paw, Michigan, here is today's forcast for Paw Paw:

Weather Underground Forecast - Paw Paw, MI

Thursday, November 28, 2002

Wow. It was quite the night at the Comm Grid. I was supposed to get let go early tonight, right at the height of the witching hour, when the gremlin hoard struck three links at once. Between the spell castings and the record keeping, I was two hours late heading out.

Not much to say tonight, I'm really tired, going after a restorative draft and a *pillow* spell. Have a great night out there in the blogverse, and happy *gravystuffing* to you all!

*POOF*

Wednesday, November 27, 2002

Ok, enough of the *philosophy* spells. It's been a long week already. The Comm Grid was very active last night, it was many hourglasses before I was able to break free and fly the dragon home. Also, there is a little snowing going on in this corner of the blogverse. At least there was yesterday. The season of the Snow Goddess has arrived, in all it's stark beauty.
Dreaming Us:

You have to see it's a benevolent God,
That allows his dreams,
To choose...

Their dreams.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/27/2002

Author's Comments:
Just thinking.
I'm rather in a *Philosophical* mood today, so I shall look inward to my vision, and see what the #Universal Truth# allows me to imagine today:

Facets:

I know not all will agree,
But this thing I seem to see,
So many spirits all shaved off the same block,
Santa and the Winter Goddess,
My very own Tarash Sparau,
Father Time and Baby New Year,
The Grim Reaper,
The Greek pantheon and the Norse,
The Earth spirits of the Americas,
Every piece and parcel of the mystic force,
If God is pure imagination and understanding,
Then we all worship the same God,
But because of the distortions in our spiritual vision,
There are a rainbow of facets,
Through which different people see,
Because in the end we relate to anything Holy,
Through some point on the crystal of shining faith,
So does it matter so much,
Which face you saw through?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/27/2002

Author's Comments:
I believe very strongly there is one God underlying this universe,
and everything we imagine, including ourselves, are just facets
of the universal mind of God. This is why faith matters so much.
God would and will exist without us, because there are so many
facets of God that the only way we can exist is if we believe we do.
Fear is just inverted faith - a belief that there is something outside
God which aims against His will. Stop believing in evil, and it
fades into the nothingness of misconception unless some other facet
believes that fear must exist. Christ said we could all walk on water
or move mountains if we only believed. That we are all sons of God.
We are as the things we imagine, specks within the imagination of God.
We remain separate from him because we believe we are.

Tuesday, November 26, 2002

And with all that, I must be off for a *PILLOW* spell. Thank you all for visiting!

*POOF*
First Snow:

The night is hushabye dark,
Christmas lights appear overnight,
Some form of wondrous magic,
And look out where the street light is,
You can see big puffy white flakes,
Falling, glinting, shining, twinkling,
There is no wind and straight down,
The temperature that perfect early Winter breath puff,
Digging the window scraper out from beneath the seat,
Seeing the steaming pond surrounded with surreal white,
Driving off the headlights show Winter in a flattering light,
Slow and easy or the sled will slide,
But Heaven just helped me immensely,
I feel just like a child full of magic,
Delighted with a simple white inch blanket.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/25/2002

Author's Comments:
Our first snow of the year in The Great Windy was tonight.
Sunfire On Ice:

The sun shines this morning,
On fresh white snow,
The first of the year here,
The pond is frozen over for the first time,
And the sunlight is burning across the ice,
Everything is bright and shining,
Freshly white and crystal flaming.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/25/2002

Author's Comments:
Beautiful...
Just a bit of early Christmas magic for all you Watchers out there, and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Rupert Roars, The Christmas Lion:

Rupert Roars was a Christmas Lion,
All gold and shiny made of glass,
He was from the Brookfield Zoo,
But he was such a nice lion they let him go,
His fur mane was white and frosty,
Like snow upon liquid gold,
And he had wise blue eyes that looked a little sad,
And silvery shiny cheeks with black whiskers,
His favorite thing was to climb Christmas trees,
And hang from a little silvery hook,
Delighting children on Christmas morning,
For how many children see a friendly lion,
Small enough to cup in their little palm?

Often the tree was so big,
That some Mommy or Daddy,
Had to help little Rupert Roars into the tree,
And they would put the silver pin,
Right in Rupert's magic hat,
Which was shiny silver and gold,
Just like Rupert himself.

One day when a little boy tried,
Really tried to help Rupert into the tree,
He pushed so hard he broke poor Rupert's hat,
Which made Rupert very scared,
Because you must see,
Rupert was a toy lion,
And even though he was a toy Christmas Lion,
Broken toys often meet a lonely sad end,
Off in the trash heap,
Even when Christmas Snow falls.

Rupert was a very lucky toy, though,
And the little boy's Daddy kept Rupert,
And the pieces of Rupert's broken hat,
Which were sharp and would bite because they hurt,
And he kept poor Rupert in a dark box,
Alone with the remains of his broken hat,
For years poor lonely Rupert was in the box,
But still the Daddy kept him,
Because it would have broken his heart,
To throw Rupert away.

You see,
The Daddy was once a little boy,
Who went at Christmas to the Brookfield Zoo,
And found a friendly little Christmas Lion,
Who had asked very nicely,
To come hang in the little boy's Christmas Tree,
And the little boy had loved little Rupert Roars,
Whom only on Christmas did he get to play with,
Because of course,
Rupert Roars was a magic Christmas Lion,
Who could only talk on Christmas Eve,
And then on Christmas day,
For the rest of the year his spell was still,
And he had to live in the box.

Each Christmas,
The Daddy who once was a little boy,
Opened the box and told poor Rupert,
"I wish you could hang in my tree,
And roar that the presents are coming soon,
Just like when I was seven, Rupert.
I miss you hanging in the tree."

Poor Rupert was lonely,
But at least he knew the little boy,
The one who had grown up to be a Daddy,
But was still Rupert's little boy,
Would never forget him,
And had never thrown poor broken Rupert away,
It's awful for toys thrown away.

One year the Daddy was putting up the tree,
And he had a friend who was secretly a Whizzyrd,
And liked to do nice magic spells,
Especially 'round Christmas,
Because that's the best time of year for good magic,
And the Daddy showed his friend the Whizzyrd,
Poor broken Rupert and his broken hat,
And the Whizzyrd thought Rupert was a really nice Christmas Lion,
So the Whizzyrd took Rupert back to his tower,
And started calling on Santa for Toy Magic,
To fix poor Rupert's broken hat.

Rupert wasn't quite sure,
And he couldn't speak yet,
Because it wasn't yet Christmas Eve,
But the Whizzyrd's crystal screen glowed,
And out popped some old Elf tools,
A little jar of Liquid Fixit,
And a roll of Christmas Lion tape,
And red and green Christmas pens,
And the Whizzyrd and Rupert heard Santa chuckle,
And say in a merry yet gravely voice,
"These are all you need to spin your magic,
And fix little broken Rupert Roars all up,
Because I've seen his name always on my nice list,
And he and his little boy,
Well, they never stopped believing,
That one day Rupert would once again,
Roar in the Christmas tree."

The Whizzyrd set to Fixit painting,
Poor Rupert's broken hat,
He set to Lion Taping,
The hat on Rupert's golden head,
And because Christmas magic is white,
Just like Christmas Snow,
He took the red and green Christmas pens,
And painted little Rupert's hat,
To match the colors of Christmas,
And just as he finished,
The Christmas bells started to ring,
It was midnight on Christmas Eve,
And for the first time in many years,
Golden Rupert Roars roared in pure joy!


Suddenly the flames leapt in the tower fireplace,
And Santa Claus walked out,
His blue eyes were smiling,
His red cheeks were ruddy,
And his cherry wood pipe glowed a curl of smoke,
Which Santa stepped right out of,
Like the Christmas Spirit he was,
And held out his hand.

The Whizzyrd knew what was coming,
And he heard Rupert Roars purr,
As Santa vanished into the pipe smoke around the chimney,
Rupert Roars the Christmas Lion,
Was the first toy to ride twice in Santa's sleigh.

The next morning,
Christmas morning,
The children woke up early,
And ran hustle bustle down the stairs,
And the Mommy and Daddy followed,
Rubbing sleep out of their yawny eyes,
And everywhere out the windows,
Where there wasn't window frost,
They saw a white blanket of snow,
And big sparkly white flakes falling,
And there under the tree a great pile of presents,
But then everyone was looking at the Daddy,
He had a big crocodile tear in his left eye,
And he walked over smiling,
Just as golden Rupert Roars the Christmas Lion,
Hung right in front of him on a tree branch,
And roared a great Christmas roar!

The joy of Christmas,
Came back to them both just because,
They remembered the two things Christmas needs,
Always love kindly forever,
And always in yourself and love believe.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/;26/2002

Author’s Comments:
This story was inspired by the broken Christmas lion ornament
I just repaired for a friend. The lion he got many years ago
at the Brookfield zoo, and never threw away. I figured out
how to fix the lion, and my friend was happy like a little boy.
Somehow, I think the lion looks happier, too.

Monday, November 25, 2002

The crystal screen is slowly coming back to order, probably the thing is as well ensorcelled as it's ever been. It's so good to be back in the blogverse. Here a couple of seasonal spells I cast this evening:

Christmas Star:

They say the star shined in Heaven,
The night was cold and seemed lonely,
Yet there were happenings abounding,
Lying in freezing cold and the pains of birth,
Husband unable to do more than watch,
The Star fell from Heaven,
And breathed the cry of an infant,
Breath you could see in the cold night air,
Just as the witnesses came under it's guiding light,
The Star of Christmas nursed a mother's loving breast,
And grew into a message we so desperately needed,
Still need more than any other,
The keys to the Kingdom of Heaven,
Are found in two simple words,
Love, and Faith.
Believe in a loving God,
And live a loving life,
The star shined this into the world,
And everything else is just window dressing,
The blur of the dull glass of interpretation's panes.
Believe in a loving God,
And live a loving life,
That's all you need.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/25/2002

Author's Comments:
This is what really shines about Christmas.

***********************************

First Snow:

The night is hushabye dark,
Christmas lights appear overnight,
Some form of wondrous magic,
And look out where the street light is,
You can see big puffy white flakes,
Falling, glinting, shining, twinkling,
There is no wind and straight down,
The temperature that perfect early Winter breath puff,
Digging the window scraper out from beneath the seat,
Seeing the steaming pond surrounded with surreal white,
Driving off the headlights show Winter in a flattering light,
Slow and easy or the sled will slide,
But Heaven just helped me immensely,
I feel just like a child full of magic,
Delighted with a simple white inch blanket.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/25/2002

Author's Comments:
Our first snow of the year in Plainfield was tonight.

I do love these *POETRY* spells.

Friday, November 22, 2002

I am one tired whizzyrd! I've been going through the roof trying to restore all the spells on my crystal screen, it got flushed right down to a completely blank screen. There is definitely a side benefit, though. I got rid of some agravating *glitch* and *quirk* spells that were jazzing out the crystal screen. I just got done putting an anti *codebug* spell into my crystal screen. Looks like things are finally going right with this machine

Time for that *pillow* spell.

*Habrus Cadabrus, whizstle and hoooooowl, then peace and quiet, the sandman's in town.*

*POOF*

Thursday, November 21, 2002

Well, the last two days have been no *pillow* spells at all, and massive upgrade *surgery* spells on my poor crystal screen. I just got it back in action this afternoon. With funtioning Dee Essell! Now, time for that way overdue *pillow plop* spell.

*POOF*

Tuesday, November 19, 2002

Interesting. I was wandering my way home from the Comm Grid this morning, riding the dragon through the Physiverse. Now, out there, it's supposed to be the peak morning for something called The Leonid Showers. This is an interesting and powerful vision where rocks scream the sky at fantastic speeds, leaving glowing trails through the eythre and ayre as they burn like Demofire. It was supposed to be possible to see up to two thousand of the blast balls from outer space per *hourglass* spell. Unfortunately, there was a slight *fog* spell surrounding the Great Windy area, as well as a full Moon, and close to sunrise. Combined with the huge excesses of *torchlight* spells around the Great Windy, and all I saw was one measly rockfire trail out of the corner of my eye whilst in the middle of maneuvering the dragon. Next year, I shall go out into the Wilds where it is much darker.

Now I do have to say, the faint red glow of Sol's birthing, the spectacular view of Lady Venus glowing, Father Jupiter shining, and Orion the Hunter and all their twinkling friends was quite beautiful. All natural magic, no greenspells required. I certainly do love the chance to just look up and enjoy at times.

The Comm Grid was rather peaceful and quiet tonight. Just the usual faint *tincan* spells going off and rattling briefly as gremlins snuck past, but they did no more than nibble, really. I did work with a newly formed whizzyrd clan, the Teedeess AcheBeeceess, ensorcelling some new links. They made a couple of minor flaws in their castings, but I was able to detect them and get the voice castings in progress.

Also lately, I've been studying a new form of White Love Magic. Not the *redlight* kind, or the *goldring* kind. This is the *kindness*, *peace*, and *blessings* kind. It requires a good deal of inner calm to operate, but it is really good for all whizzyrds in this plane of existence. The more practitioners there are, the less *Horrible Blast* spells the Dimuns can turn loose on the Blogverse, Physiverse, and most importantly, other whizzyrds. Dimuns feed on *FEAR* spells, they love raised *hackles* for breakfast. The Triumvate of White Love and *FEAR* spells are opposite energies, so if one is present it tends to push away the other. Let's just say that the keep and the life will both stay much happier and neater with *TRIUMVATE* spells than with *FEAR* spells, and conjure peace through *blessing* life's *flip-flop* points. *Flip-flop* points are places on the path where you can only choose one direction, and the steps down the path tend to lead to one form of magic or the other. Can you guess upon which path you find most practitioners of *Blech Mejik*?

Well, anyway, I think it's time for one of those wonderful *pillow* spells.

Good night all, and many *BLESSINGS* to you. Thank you for visiting my little keep here in the Blogverse.

*POOF*

Monday, November 18, 2002

This was from about five this morning, there was a powerful BLogfog, and I was unable to scry through to release the missive.

This is fun. I've added a new quill and parchment for a Visiting Whizzyrds' Registry at the bottom of the *Spell Book* pages, and also registered the *Spell Book* with the Bloghop Whizzyrds' Guild, complete with a *ratings* spell. I quite like that. I've also done a bit of reading other whizzyrds' *Blogspells*, and left a couple of notes. Now to check the inbox for fresh quills from all over the BLogverse. I'm expcting a couple of missives at any time now.

Thank you whizzyrds, Watchers, and other Blogdizens, for checking in at the *Spell Book*. Please stop by often, and *Blessings* to you all.

AquarianM *POOF*
There's been a lot going on this past weekend.

Saturday, I went to Tike Wondo school, and we had a double class. Being fully Six Feet Six and two hundred and eighty pounds in my white Tike Wondo Whizzyrds' Uniform, it tends to get a bit interesting. There was the time the previous instructor was teaching us all the *Flying Sidekick* spell, and he needed a very powerful magical shield to ward off this much flying whizzyrd. But I digress. The instructress Magette Anjliek, had another instructor there this session. He has trained with the Olympiad Tike Wondo Masters clan, and his training methods were quite unique. Aside from the usual *Block*, *Punch*, and *Kick* spells, (As always preceded by a *FLEXERSTRETCH* ritual) we learned to cast such spells while in motion, and got to beat up giant stuffed bean bags and even worked minor *Spar* practices. We had a double length class, since the instructors will be away on Holiday next week. I am going to a couple of week night classes to gain more spell practice during the week.

Today, MyLady Seer's Parent whizzyrds conjured a magical feast at Ye Old Mill Inn, which is set in an old limestone village along the Foxhound River somewhere amongst a beautiful tree park. There was a moat just out the window, and flotillas of magic birds were paddling about, which quite enraged the moat monster as he was bespelled from eating them. I could sense his evil vibration from below the still waters, but no one and no creature had breached Magic Etiquette, so he wasn't allowed to eat while we were about the place. After a wonderful dinner amongst many beautiful decorations and *twinklight* spells, MyLady Seer and I walked about the tree park along the river, crossing a *Choo Choo* bridge covered underwalk path, we went over the river and walked down the way, admiring the beautiful old limestone keeps along the gentle looking waters just at dusk. We stopped at the Palacial Herringbone Inn, and the bar whizzyrds conjured up the most marvelous hot coffee and cream drink, with quite a *kick* spell underneath. It tasted absoplutely wonderful, and the potion was a visual delight as well, steaming in large clear goblets. It was similar to the favored drink of many Irish whizzyrds, but also had certain *spice* spells and a I suspect a *Cinnabon Liquor* spell as well. The bar whizzyrds were not divulging the ancestral secret potion components, however. They simply asked for their greenspells and smiled. The place was absolutely beautiful inside, with a grand staircase winding up into the tower, limestone fireplaces, oaken doors and trim, large vases of fresh flowers, and a buttery yellow hue to it's heavy earthen walls. Absolutely luxurious. We shall have to cast a few greenspells into an overnight *abode* spell at the place in some future memory casting.

After the wondrous potions, we rode Fandango back to the keep, by way of the China Red Dragon Flagon, where we picked up a small bite on the fly, and fed Fandango a large draft of *Flaming Petro* potion. We also traded a few greenspells for some *vision discs* and spent an enchanting evening casting *vision* spells and crafting wonderful *Snugglers*. I am not at liberty to further discuss our quiet evenings' castings.

So, I have crafted a new spell commemorating the Old Quills' Home and celebrating their new keep. The Parchment Angel Club is moving to a new *webkeep*, and this was the casting I quilled for them:

Peekin' In The Windows:

I walked in the snow all about the new house,
It was cold outside,
I let loose a mighty shiver,
Breath puffing up in the dark air,
My footprints all about the door,
Under the windows behind the shrubs,
They had been moving our furniture in,
I could see the leather bound bags,
Travel stickers all about them,
But my keys had not yet arrived,
It was so late all were asleep,
No one could yet hear me knocking,
So I took one more look,
And I trudged back to the old homestead,
Blue walls and familiar door knockers,
All the scribblings we'd made on the walls,
A thousand little memories of good times,
And I spent one last night back in the old place,
Laid my head back on the floor,
Turning parchments about,
Light from one old candle stub,
Found somewhere in Imagination's old closet,
A few old family photos still to be going,
I stoked the fireplace another log,
Embracing it's eerie magical blue glow,
Knowing 'twould soon be cold, dark,
But that life would go on in fine style,
As soon as those keys showed up at the Postmaster's!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/18/2002

Author's Comments:
Just reminiscing and walking about.
(Moving PCLA to a new forum host.)

Saturday, November 16, 2002

A spell vision I was granted this past eve:

Goldfire Sky:

Overhead,
Grey-white-purple-yellow sheet,
Interspersed with robin egg blue,
Look West and see the fire,
Thin razor line of gold flame,
Shining burning bronzed cotton puffs,
Dusky orange almost pastel soft pillows,
A vee of geese races through the fire,
And the burning gold orange ball breaks free,
Flung out as the tattered burned cotton floats East,
If I could paint as the masters,
How you would see fire in the sky,
But God and His Sunset Angels,
They have never failed.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/16/2002

Author's Comments
I sat on the dragon just watching sky this evening.
It was glorious.
This is more *PRAYER* than *Spell*, so here goes:

Addition's Attrition:

"Walk with me through the Valley of the Shadow,
Will you please,
And picture with your brilliance the fingers of sunshine,
As the clouds begin to depart."

I see great joy in each heart that adds to the wave of kindness,
The shadows will soon fall away,
We must have faith in the world of the loving come to pass,
If all we picture is clouds and blight,
Surely such has no choice but to form,
But if in each heart there is a choice to be loving and kind,

Then the shadows fall by attrition,
Because of a gentler addition.

"If a man shall beleaguer his neighbor in continuance,
Saying naught but his visions of fault,
Then how can the neighbor walk above such faults?
Choose instead the gift of benevolent imaginings,
Should the person next door stumble and fall,
Let them not hear 'You are wicked, foolish, wrong,'
For his mind will take this a little more to heart,
Each time in the hearing.
Far better should your neighbor hear,
'Next time you will prevail with better,
For you have seen where lay the mistake and learned.'
Let his mind take this to heart."

Then the shadows fall by attrition,
Because of a gentler addition.

"When you speak to yourself,
Tell yourself,
'I am kind and strong and caring and peaceful,'
Not 'I am weak, failing and a source of pain,'
For every time you tell yourself what you are,
You become just a bit more so,
And if you do not speak to yourself of love and strength,
Who will do so once you no longer possess these things?
It is said you must love yourself to love others,
Be loving when you tell yourself who you are."

Then the shadows fall by attrition,
Because of a gentler addition.

"All that is begun and carried on in fear,
Will beget only more pain,
All that is begun in love and kindness,
Has a far greater chance of bringing joy and hope,
See within which you carry in your travel bag,
As you embark upon your journey."

Then the shadows fall by attrition,
Because of a gentler addition.

Only by additional hearts choosing to see a better future,
Will such a future come to be.
Choose love and kindness every chance you can.

Then the shadows fall by attrition,
Because of a gentler addition.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/16/2002

Author's Comments:
This is something I've come to believe more
strongly every day. We and our world
become our collective beliefs. I want to be
more careful of mine. Our words hold far
greater power than many of us will ever know.

Friday, November 15, 2002

Time for a *coffein* spell. It's been a frustrating night on the Comm Grid. We have a *VoIP* spell link to the Webvoice that just will not report an active link, even though it seems to be carrying voices. We have appealed to the Maker tribe wise men to get the correct spell components, meanwhile the *tincan rattle* spell that goes with it is rattling loudly because it is detecting a gremlin bite we can't heal in the link.

On top of that, I lost my magic words that let me look into crystal screen and see the *VoIP* spells, so I have to get a new one from an Engineering whizzyrd in the *VoIP* spell cabal. Those whizzyrds are daylight only, none of them are night bats like me.

I spoke to my sister, the Sorceress of Christmas for this year, she is planning all the *chow* spells and *game* spells and suchlike for this year's gathering of the clan. She has gained use of a large keep in the Frozen North, and we cast voices to compare notes and just keep in touch. After all, clan is what really matters.

I am only five days from getting the *Dee Essell* spell crafted by the Yayhoo Beecees. I received a *Oopeeiss* spelled box full of magic tricks at the front gate of my keep this afternoon. There were *filter* spells, a *Ceedee Rum* spell, a *NIC* card, and most powerful of all, a *Dee Essell* Mowed Em. My palms are itching just thinking about getting my *Dee Essel* spell working!

Well, back to the Comm Grid, I don't want any more gremlins getting loose. Thank you Watchers for stopping by, and good wishes and *lucky charms* to you all.

Oh, by the way, just so you'll all know, a *SPELL* is major magic, but a *spell* is minor magic, and there are various grades of magic between.

*POOF*

Wednesday, November 13, 2002

Time is short today, the hour glass has lots of stuff marked up on it to do. It's the Seer's Birthday, and I've been conjuring cards and presents...

I also just sent some more *tinker* and *cobble* spells off to the LUF whizzyrds to see if they can add them to their idea magic.

Last night at the Comm Grid was extremely busy. We had a major link to Apple Tons that the Provisioning clan THOUGHT they were supposed to move, but it turned out to be the wrong ones, so we had to tell the Bee Cees and Merry Ticks not to touch it. They were disappointed, they had thought they were going to have a magic feast on the old link's spell power.

Then we had Tellyou Group clan links going down and coming backk on all over the kingdom. I also had to put in a new *lightlink* gizmo for an impending link spell, but the older and weaker *lightlink* gizmo, well, they forgot to give me a *transpo* spell to Port it out. Also, they forgot to add enough megger byte chips to the new gizmo, so they are going to have to *transpo* some megger byte chips to me to put into the spell.

Off to the party!

Tuesday, November 12, 2002

Voices of wayward spirits I heard in my last vision quest:

Buckthorn and Black Walnut:

The trees sway in the evening breeze,
The low slanted rays of late Fall afternoon,
Touch the bark and grass and creek with Midwestern gold,
If there is a color that defines the American midwest,
It is a word not often used,
Tawny.

The lime stone so yellow and prevalent,
The soft yellow clay just a foot or two below black earth,
Trees with brown red and yellow Autumn leaves,
The golden yellow of the grasses and shrubs,
Their clinging seeds will follow you to new homes,
The brush of cat tails above a marsh,
Where brown ducks swim with the brilliant green headed Mallards,
And brown and black Canada geese oversee the flotilla,
And red, brown and yellow brick is the solid choice,
Where once the soft warmth of the gentle tipi held sway,
They looked for all the world like angel wings growing,
Straight up out of the incredibly tawny plains,
And meld into the ice and snow and gold grass tufts.

Some of the whites now listen to the land,
Have been born and bred of it's very bones,
To those who hear the spirits the land cries for healing,
For simplicity blended with their mechanical roots,
And slowly the spirit of the Tinkerer is joining,
With the spirit of Land,
They will one day walk under the gaze of Harmony,
And perhaps their children will grow strong,
Once fear and it's bastard child hatred,
Leaves the hearts of all the races of man,
Who were birthed in the tawny land.

I heard the spirits of Buckthorn and Black Walnut,
Of Pine and Cattail and Milkweed,
They danced a dance of future remembrance,
That some times I am just privileged enough to see,
The afternoon Sun whispered golden rays upon them,
The blue Sky brushed their reaching branches with a breeze,
As the Buckthorn pods fell dark brown to Earth,
Millions in deep dark reddish tawny brown,
And the children of Black Walnut fell to Earth rolling,
In the green pods that look like tennis balls.

Buckthorn took the hand of Black Walnut,
And their spirits walked back into the tawny past,
Future,
Past,
Future,
Past,
Tawny,
Sun.

Together.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/12/2002

Author's Comments:
I was struck by how much I identify this color with "home".
I was born in this land, and no matter where I've gone,
I always feel "home" when I see the tawny gold of grasses,
Coming up through the snow along the highway,
Or blowing in the cool fall breeze. This is the color of home.
I also hold a vision of technology embracing nature and the two
working together instead of in conflict. If it's ever going to happen,
it needs to be found here. I don't know why I believe that, but I do.
Spent the past half hour reading wayward magic scrolls and burning the ones from sneaky Seller Trolls trying to trick me into giving them some of my greenspells. Nothing much else to report at this time, other than the parchments made it to the LUF whizzyrds, but they haven't had time to respond yet, I think. The guy down in Tecksrocks can be a bit of a curmudgeon, but he is also quite realistic and seems well suited to deciding what is practical and what is "Shoot the Moon" magic. Practical magic is always the best. Of course, many *movie* spell watchers learned this a couple of years ago. More later.

*POOF*
Well, I just sent magic scrolls to some whizzyrds of the LUF clan, who think we should have whizzyrd colonies off our rock. I rather think it's a good idea but will be a long time in coming. They are creating an experimental keep in the land of Tecksrocks to try out some of their ideas, and were speaking of crafting a special keep called a "green house." This has nothing to do with common greenspells. It's a place to grow plants for all sorts of whizzyrdly purposes even when Lady Winter is casting *snow* spells and *freezer* spells and such. I pitched in a couple of ideas as I like the chaps and think they are fun with all their *tinker* spells and such. One of them even built a *dam* spell, but it was hit with a Tecksrocks *DELUGE* spell and lost it's upper half, wasting much magic. They are still discussing ways to craft a stronger *dam* spell using the minimum amount of greenspells. I sure hope they figure it out safely. So far, they haven't blown any whizzyrds up by accident, they are pretty careful to avoid that. I'll have to wait until tomorrow to see what they think.

And on that note, it's time for a nice *pillow* spell. Thanks all you magical creatures for scyring my screens.

*Cotton cloud and fluff ball pile, sleep and rest all the while.*

*POOF*

Monday, November 11, 2002

Just ran a *scan* spell on what the Bank Trolls are charging for Keep Tolls this month. The results are rather interesting.

Now time for a quick *shower* spell.
Hmm. Heated up a percolated *coffein* spell in the *Nukrowave*. Interesting device that bathes the moleculites of anything in it with magic waves until they shiver hard. I'm listening to a little Coldplay with Mylady Seer and it's pretty nice. Reminds me a good bit of Nirvana and Pearl Jam, but not.

Not much new at the moment, sky is again the ever-present Great Windy grey, and I'm just peeking at the Universe's response to my latest spells to see if the bells weather...

More lter, hope all of you watchers out there are having a pleasant afternoon and evening.
Well, it's time for that *pillow* spell. I've written my fingers near off tonight trying to send out *peace* spells, hope all of you don't mind a screen full, but it's with the best of hopes and intent. A good night to all, and thank you for visiting.

*Puffed and stuffed and looking downy, lay my head on that pillow and dream kind dreams.*
The Ice Mask:

The tribe walked in glory,
Tall and proud were their men,
Their women pretty as the jewels of Heaven,
And they walked all in fierce strength.

The grey concrete wore holes in his boots,
He passed so many in the crowded city,
There was no notice, no kind smile,
Seeing such he cast the spell they all knew,
The ice mask they wear as they walk past,
No eye may meet or the sin is staring,
No smile may be seen or the con might be daring,
Just walk like the faux stone under thy feet,
The creed the motto the stigmata unseen,
Frozen eyes go by in the frigid soul cold,
But the spell falls flat,
In the face of genuine fearless warmth.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/11/2002

Author's Comments:
Do you recognize the mask? You see this every day
in most parts of our country.
On that note, I think it's time for me to cast a *folding* spell on some hot laundry. Thank you all kindly for stopping by. More on the crystal screen in a bit.

*POOF*
Fire Fall, Blue Hush:

We walked out amongst the sands,
At the edge of the drive way was the burning bush,
Alive with vivid sunset yellow-gilded orange,
Almost cartoon brilliant,
The colors of fall turning the trees and shrubs,
Even dune grasses turning to gold,
And my love and I walked bundled hand in hand,
Out on the soft yellow rippled sands,
The sky grey blue and muted,
The lake so vast and steely blue,
The low gentle waves,
Subconscious roar and hush,
Up and back, up and back,
The hints of magenta through the gun metal sky,
As the camp fire of Earth was falling low,
The sliver Moon peeked one second through,
As we walked back past warm window glow,
And always the sound near,
Blue hush, blue hush, blue hush,
Skipped one stone back home.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/11/2002

Author's Comments:
Once again, the inspiration is life.
I just saw something and it really made me aware of many things I'd been completely ignorant of. Knowledge being the most important magic of all, I thought I'd share what it was with you:

Movie Of The Century:

There is a film just out,
One that opens eyes,
Sheds light and hope,
There is a way out of the dark,
Once you even know you're in it,
Take a look for yourself,
Does it make sense in your heart,
What can you do to with knowledge,
Just go see with an open heart,
I know the poets will know.

Bowling For Columbine.

The most relevant film I have ever seen.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/11/2002

Author's Comments:
Live and learn, it's not necessary to "confront" anything
or one to make life nicer. Fear is soul poison.

Saturday, November 09, 2002

I just remembered something from the news scroll yesterday. Guy whizzyrds, watch out for new *shaver* spells. The old kind that are simple metal charms and require no further magic after their making aren't the problem, but it appears that a couple of poor whizzyrds out east got their faces blown up by the kind that use magic to operate, the Leck Trick kind. Be very careful, one was brand new in the *cardboard* and bought at the local Whizzyrderia. Both whizzyrds had injuries to their face, neck, hands, and upper torsos. It seems some evil Blech Mejishun put very powerful *Bad Juju* in them that caused them to explode. I would advise checking with your local bomb squad before using a new Leck Trick *shaver* spell. I really do not like those evil Blech Mejishuns. Didn't their Mommies ever teach them about being nice or sharing?

In other news today, I got two of my favorite monthly news scrolls, Popular Spells and Popular Magic. I have *subscription* spells placed on them so they automatically copy to my keep after the Calig Raffy whizzyrds quill them. It only took a few greenspells to get that *subscription* spell going, it is very enjoyable.

Also, my father the Engineering whizzyrd got himself a new *webmail* spell that works on any crystal screen that hooks up to the magic web. He can now go to the scroll collection at the library and send magic parchments. (His crystal screen is a very early model and he is having difficulty getting it linked to the magic web.) I'm going to help him later with some magic link spell components, we'll see how he does then.

I missed my Tike Wondo training today, I was very tired and got up late. Even my *Shrieking Alarm* spell couldn't get me moving. I will have to make up the Tike Wondo class later this week one evening. Which is *OK*, because the Seer and I are going off to Duneland for a day to walk the Sandy Blue Edge. Then we are going to have Gore May dinner at a little magic food shop we know of. It's Mylady Seer's birthday this week, (She gets a whole week) so we are doing something nice and meeting her son and his sorceress.

That's really all the missives for today, so all of you Blog Watchers have a great day and evening and enjoy the *balmy* spell if you're near the great Windy. Thank you for visiting my little vision.
*POOF*
Now for a brief morning spell:

*Pink Morning:

The pink washes slow across the blinds,
I can see daylight coming on like a child slowly growing,
The sun is a happy face on the rise,
Far away the sand lies filled with tall grasses,
The wind there whispers in tune with the waves,
They call my name in the cool hush,
And tell me of soft walking amongst golden grains and blue,
I whisper back they hold my dreams,
And the waves hear what the sky does too,
Soon, I'll spend pink morning,
Somewhere where the wave meets sand and sky,
And so do I.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/09/2002

Author's Comments:
Plans for the near future.*

Good morning, all. Time for the *pillow* spell.
Ok, the McBugfrees say there is no *Bad Juju* lurking in any corner of my crystal screen, That's good, I don't want to help the *Bad Juju* escape to other crystal screens. You never know what that stuff is going to do.
Made it home. Right now, I'm in the process of crafting more recent *antibug* spells for my crystal screen. I just gave it a whole chip full of 256 Megger Bytes a little bit ago, it's much faster at things now. The McBugfree clan is providing the magical expertise via a spell link. Will be back shortly after I sew the patches in.
Ok, ok, it could have been HER. If so, she should get to be Grand Poobette. After all, fair is fair.

Alright, time to scroll the reports and fly the dragon. I'll cast voice prints back to the Blogverse crystal screens after I fly to the Keep.

Meanwhile, thank you all Watchers, Blogsters, and Whizzyrds for visiting my little blogscreen. Prayers and *peace* spells to you all.

*POOF*
Interesting. I just heard there was a meeting of the three biggest Prayer Clubs here in the Great Windy yesterday. It seems the Krsistins, the Moos Limbs, and the Juice were all doing *gum-flap* spells about working together and being nice to each other. Now that is a good sign, whizzyrds of Am Erica. I really hope they can work such a spell web out. They were talking about helping out magicless whizzyrds with *Keep* and *Mangia* spells, as well as helping get them free of *Zombie* potions if they want. I think combined efforts on such a web are a GREAT idea. Incredibly, one of them even admitted that they all pray to the same God, and that it's their fault for all calling him different names. I am amazed that some whizzyrd finally got a *sense* spell on that crowd. Let's hope it grows stronger and better. Matter of fact, I'll throw a few prayers towards that myself. Whoever cast that sense spell, I want to make HIM the Grand Poober. Way to go.
Well, the spell combobulator worked just fine, it made a whole bunch of magic that just dissipated. At least we're now assured it will combobulate when we need combobulation.

I called and said good night to Mylady Seer, she was happily peering through new scroll collections and spells before casting her own *pillow* spell.

I must admit our Votedom's politico whizzyrds are really making me nervous. I think they've cast a giant *Hebejebis* spell all over the Blogverse. They are trying to get a certain clan of Sand whizzyrds to give up their giant *roaster*, *toaster*, and *pox* spells. The Rockies Sand Whizzyrd clan says it's all about greenspells and Boil Potion. Boil potion is used to create magic all over the Blogverse, as most of you know. It comes in especially handy for *taxiport* spells. Personally, I wouldn't be too surprised if that was behind much of the Chief Shrub's voice prints and castings. Like many whizzyrds, I am casting little *peace* spells and prayers every day in the hopes that no more whizzyrds get cooked by war spells. I don't really want to see any USER or Rocky whizzyrds get goose cooked. I hope the politico whizzyrds can all find some good sense spells and learn to be nice to each other. I also hope the Rockies will give up the roasters and poxes. There's enough of those around already. Personally, I think the United Whizzyrds should lock in all the whateverdoms' borederlines and say everybody is stuck with the lines they have, from now to Doom's Day. I also think anyone should be allowed to cross the line as just an individual whizzyrd or a simple whizzyrd family if they can no longer stand towing the line from the side they are on now. I also think all whizzyrd should have the right to free *Mangia* spells and *Keep* spells so no whizzyrd ever has to go hungry, thirsty, or without shelter. Such things should be the basic minimum rightuals of every whizzyrd no matter what lines they're stuck behind. .Maybe some day all the politico whizzyrds will catch a vision before they get eaten by Soul Burners. I would love to see the day.

Friday, November 08, 2002

Well, I just finished my favorite version of the coffein spell. I ran a *Percolatotor* spell. I love how when you put the magic in it the water bubbles up and you can smell the delicious coffein potion brewing. Absolutely the best. Why anyone bothers with *Drippy Filter* spells is beyond me. they completely change the flavour of the coffein potion. It doesn't taste nearly as nice.

I have to go test the emergency magic maker this evening. It's a spell combobulator that starts making magic whenever the Common Eddy clan's spell combobulator distribution links get hit by a gremlin hoard. We test the combobulator every once in awhile to make sure we will be able to route castings and ventrilloquism spells and bitbyte spells if the Common Eddy combobulators aren't getting through. Heaven forbid!

Time to imagiport to the combobulator area!

*POOF*
This is a bit of magic that I am always reminded of as the holidays approach. It is not written in magicese as it holds it's own special magic just as it is.

"A few years ago, I had been on the verge of abandoning a life-long commitment to finding a partner in life and a stable marriage partner. A string of failed relationships had nearly completely darkened my outlook on love relationships in general. I won’t go into details, but one simple gift changed my life. It was close to Christmas, but not specifically a Christmas gift. After a wonderful first date out seeing holiday decorations together and walking the Naperville Riverwalk in a fine light snow, my then future wife felt an overwhelming urge to give me something. She placed a simple polished black hematite stone in my hand as I was leaving to go home. On it was engraved one word. “Believe.” At that moment, I decided to give love one last chance. We are now happily married nearly two years and I am very glad of that night. Quite simply, the most precious gift another person has given me was a simple piece of stone. That could only be true, of course, because the gift was given along with the most precious thing this life offers: love."

There was no potion needed for this spell, the only requirement to making such magic is two truly loving hearts.
Ok, I've done a good little bit of review of the new format link spells. There's still a good ways to go, but it's pleasant reading new spell books.
But at the moment, it's time to wind up reports, report in to the guild Monitor whizzyrds, then hop on the dragon and cruse off into the sunrise back to Pear Tree Keep.

Once again, I'd like to thank all you Blogwatchers for your viewing sands through your hourglass spells. It is always a pleasure to have you read my scrolls, and I wish you all a great day. I'll give a brief status report later from the keep.

*POOF*
This is rather fun. I'm getting to learn a few new Comm spells! It's not often I get to research new spell techniques, I'm usually pretty busy applying what I already have mastered. Thing is, the magic slowly evolves and changes, and if you don't slowly update your spell inventory, you can find yourself unable to work current magic. Back to reading scrolls...
Sometimes it is just too difficult to keep all these Comm whizzyrd guilds straight. I just cast voices at what I thought was the link for the Mikeyson River clan, but it seems there was a split of opinion related to greenspells, and the spell number I have in the scrolls is the Mikeyson clan, while the links that were in trouble were still the Mikeyson River clans'. The problem is, I don't have a good link number for casting voices to the Mikeyson River whizzyrds. Thankfully the gremlins backed off and the Mikeyson River links became magical again. Being a Telecom whizzyrd sure can bring confustication spells one's way!
Hmmm. That was wierd. Must be a gremlin in the keep. My crytal screen spell wonked out just as I was about to cast the runes on the parchment. Now I get to magic waggle the quill on the scroll all over again. Magic inkwork can be tricky.

The comm grid has been doing pretty well tonight. One gremlin, I chased him off before he could do more than look cross-eyed at a link spell. The spell of course froze up. I had to stop and start the magic flow, then it worked again just fine. The whizzyrds at the other end didn't even have to to send a scorched parchment spell at my guild.

I just sent a voice casting with a sweet dream wish to Mylady Seer a few sands through the hourglass spell ago. She is such a sweet sorceress!

Thursday, November 07, 2002

*I am so glad I cast voices to a Merry Tick!*
Things are going great! I just cut my Invisible Voice Casting costs by 50 greenleafs a month! (I was on a two year old plan with the Run Fast clan.) Guess what I'm getting for that same 50 greenleafs??? Dee Essel !!!!! 768kb/sec down & 128kb/sec up, Yayhoooooooo Ess BeeCeeeee!!! 11/20/02, countdown to the activation of the Dee Essel spell!!! Day One: Enthusiam spells are washing all over me, I am going to have killer access for my crystal screen!!! (I will do my very best to put an ignore spell up against all the impatient spells coming in from the Eythre.)

So, it's off to the Comm Grid, with *glee* spells all around!

*POOOOOFDA*
*Aquarianm reaches back into the Blogverse briefly*

Whoops, almost forgot to leave my morning spell, thought you all might appreciate a peek.

Morning Fog Hush:

As I drive home the sun just brushing sky,
Faint light and fog drifting low on the land,
First frost on corn stubbled fields,
I see tendrils of steam rise from the slow moving river,
From the quiet of the morning pond,
Like some ethereal dream the world is waking,
I see pink and blue dancing together now,
Just above the cloud drifting at eye level,
The birds are singing and the orange ball rising,
Just as I pull into the drive at home,
The geese and ducks appear and disappear,
My mind on a quiet gentle wave,
Feeling the hesitancy of a tentative season,
Winter is on her way home,
And all the world is beauty awaiting,
In this pillow soft morning fog hush.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/07/2002

Author's Comments:
True to life this morning, it's beautiful out there.
Hmmm....there was a huge magical disruption in my corner of the Blogverse this morning, a total Blogfogout for more than three hourglass spells. I sent a scorching scroll to the Universal Plane manager whizzyrds that should scorch their ears the second it's read.

I'm online with the invisible link voice casting whizzyrds, they are charging me a greenspell ratio from two years ago, I'm telling them to get the ratio updated to what whizzyrds currently pay, or I'll find other invisible voice casters. It seems the Fast Runing clan is still willing to take my greenleafs, even at the lower rate. This should work out great. The best part is, the difference in price should allow me to get hooked up with the high speed link Yayhoobeecee clan for access to the blogverse and other assorted webcasting spell zones for the same amount of greenspell energy I'm already spending or a little less. THAT is going to help me become a much more adept WebWhizzyrd. No wonder everyone over there is always yelling *!YAY!* (I probably will do a big Yayhoobeecee yell myself if I can get the Dee Essel spell going!) On that note, it's time for a shower spell!

*Scrubba Dubba Bubba* *POOF*