The Sixth Canticle:
Long hours in betwixt braziers and glowing skulls,
The stars lie in their appointed hour,
As a comet falls furious into the ocean,
The Moon gives sight to the racing wave,
In the tower of open night sky,
The Canticler drones in *mejik* rhythm,
And the Jewels of the Firestar light in brilliant purple and green,
Twin beacons of power at precise points of the Runegard,
The circle of silver characters which surround the star,
The Pentagram of Unicorn hair and Dragon blood,
And the purple-green braid of light races around the circle,
Black flames leaping from the pentagram,
The gateway opens into a distant sky,
And a howling wind screams into the void,
The Canticler sounds the Six Bells of Devonbane,
And the blood-red light erupts from the tower,
Leaping straight into the sky six Light Dragons,
Creatures of *mejikal* energy,
Awaiting the sight of the Canticler's wish upon their minds,
For they are bound him as Earthe to Sun in the Heavens,
Six points of the Canticler's soul given form in the night,
Eating the energies of starlight and Earthefire,
The Kingdom will soon be riven of the Usurper's minions,
And the Darklords scream as their crystals shatter,
And fire pierces their skulls like lightning from Heaven,
Two only, left standing to face the Canticler,
They are unholy Demons cloaked in robes as black as their hearts,
And yet he shows no fear,
For the Sixth Canticle he has bespoken,
And upon the dawn the Seventh shall fall from his quill.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/28/2003
Author's Comments:
What the mind sees, the page brings crystal clear.
Poetry, ponderings, ideas, fantasy stories, spirituality and life philosophy, and ecclectic interests of a dyed-in-the-wool Aquarian mind.
Firefly & Sulfur Mejik:
Lights that sparkle in the night,
Time is slow and easy,
Cottonwood seed drifts across skies,
Barbecue flames and sizzles,
Sunglow falls to stars rising,
Fire flies dance and that's when they start,
Big boomers across the water,
All the lights are out tonight,
And the country's not alone,
We're all celebrating our Independence,
'Cause when the sun comes up we'll still be dreamin',
No alarm, no hurry, no coffee clutch,
We've got sunshine, gliding birds and water,
Calling all our names,
Shuuuush, shuuuush, shuuuush,
Dance the dance of sand and blue.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/28/2003
Author's Comments:
Vacation over the 4th RULES!
Lights that sparkle in the night,
Time is slow and easy,
Cottonwood seed drifts across skies,
Barbecue flames and sizzles,
Sunglow falls to stars rising,
Fire flies dance and that's when they start,
Big boomers across the water,
All the lights are out tonight,
And the country's not alone,
We're all celebrating our Independence,
'Cause when the sun comes up we'll still be dreamin',
No alarm, no hurry, no coffee clutch,
We've got sunshine, gliding birds and water,
Calling all our names,
Shuuuush, shuuuush, shuuuush,
Dance the dance of sand and blue.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/28/2003
Author's Comments:
Vacation over the 4th RULES!
Happy Birthday To The Wordsmith
Life is a page,
Yet to be written,
It's all in what you see,
Claim the letters of happiness,
For your own on this,
Your shining day,
And fill all your future pages,
With the divine light and right,
Of a life well-lived.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/26/2003
Author's Comments:
Written as a birthday wish for our friend,
The Enchantress Roberta - who loves to *journal*.
We gave her a new *spell book* to do her *journalling*
in, and a birthday scroll with this spell in it.
Life is a page,
Yet to be written,
It's all in what you see,
Claim the letters of happiness,
For your own on this,
Your shining day,
And fill all your future pages,
With the divine light and right,
Of a life well-lived.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/26/2003
Author's Comments:
Written as a birthday wish for our friend,
The Enchantress Roberta - who loves to *journal*.
We gave her a new *spell book* to do her *journalling*
in, and a birthday scroll with this spell in it.
* A note for any Whizzyrds from the Grand Control of the Blogverse Council *:
I used a *CHANGE TEMPLATE*spell to correct the *Scramblization* curse affecting my corner of the *Blogverse* since I sent you the scroll begging for your whizzyrdly assistance. Please dis-regard the scroll, I managed to fend off the *Eevil Grimlins* on my own. Thank you for following through...
Friday, June 27, 2003
A place out there in the eythre I need to *Spelleport* to: Kessler's Whizzyrd Spell Recording House For the retention of *greenspells* produced through new *mejik* works. I have a few good ideas about how to craft some new *mejikal* devices and spell components...
Thursday, June 19, 2003
Becoming Druid:
You walk under the stars and changing skies,
The scent of the Mother slowly invades your heart,
Reaching in with tears and whispers and dreams,
Aspirations for cleaner lives flash burn in the heat of intuition,
And in that moment of inner light you feel her cry,
Saviors operating in bits and pieces,
Like ants we are many dispersed,
Like leaves we feel the wind and sun and they are good,
Working always to bury the detritus that beetles dig up,
This amazing awe in each place untouched,
Poetry is life and life has verses of it's own,
Hearing the whispers in a rainbow will tell you,
But when your un-trained inevitable vision quest comes on you,
There are no other choices because it's your nature,
Our nature but only so many achieve it,
Once the light shines down on you,
Learning to live it in some form of harmony,
Only on that path will the spells and whispers and words,
Add to the bones being shaken,
Bring the wave to crescendo and harmonic force,
Plant a bare foot upon the Earth and you are caressed,
Child and clan open your ears,
The green and the blue and the sky are in your eyes,
Crisp and clean is the common goal,
And the Mother is giving warning the undermind slowly hears,
The trees of her lungs are huffing loud,
Heat on the nape of every neck,
And the few first to notice are a named clan,
The Mother is calling them back home,
Under the stars the children with ancient souls,
Fast are becoming Druid,
And the stars in their eyes best we pray,
May save us all.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/19/2003
Author's Comments:
More and more I find that I want to learn how I can help
heal the Earth - and every day that I read about others
who sense the same urgent beat of time I do,
I realize that this is what my idea of Druid is. Were we
called to these births in this time by God? I hope the sum
adds up in time.
You walk under the stars and changing skies,
The scent of the Mother slowly invades your heart,
Reaching in with tears and whispers and dreams,
Aspirations for cleaner lives flash burn in the heat of intuition,
And in that moment of inner light you feel her cry,
Saviors operating in bits and pieces,
Like ants we are many dispersed,
Like leaves we feel the wind and sun and they are good,
Working always to bury the detritus that beetles dig up,
This amazing awe in each place untouched,
Poetry is life and life has verses of it's own,
Hearing the whispers in a rainbow will tell you,
But when your un-trained inevitable vision quest comes on you,
There are no other choices because it's your nature,
Our nature but only so many achieve it,
Once the light shines down on you,
Learning to live it in some form of harmony,
Only on that path will the spells and whispers and words,
Add to the bones being shaken,
Bring the wave to crescendo and harmonic force,
Plant a bare foot upon the Earth and you are caressed,
Child and clan open your ears,
The green and the blue and the sky are in your eyes,
Crisp and clean is the common goal,
And the Mother is giving warning the undermind slowly hears,
The trees of her lungs are huffing loud,
Heat on the nape of every neck,
And the few first to notice are a named clan,
The Mother is calling them back home,
Under the stars the children with ancient souls,
Fast are becoming Druid,
And the stars in their eyes best we pray,
May save us all.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/19/2003
Author's Comments:
More and more I find that I want to learn how I can help
heal the Earth - and every day that I read about others
who sense the same urgent beat of time I do,
I realize that this is what my idea of Druid is. Were we
called to these births in this time by God? I hope the sum
adds up in time.
Good to be back here in my mejikal little corner of the *Blogverse*. I've been working hard at becoming a Drued. A Healer of the Eyrthe. I'm learning much about *Windspells* still, and also much of the underlying Blech Mejik that is causing the Eyrthe to slowly catch fire. It has a lot to do with Evile Mejishuns and Politico Eevil Bollweevils that are casting all sorts of eevil blech mejik that seems *pretty* and fun to monotnussians all over the Eyrthe. I must apologise for not spending a lot of time here in the keep. My Drued Duties keep me quite busy in other regions of the *Blogverse* and poring over Envirotomes in the vast mejikal library of the *Spellweb*. My assigned region appears to be the Great Lakes area of the *Monotnussverse*. Somehow the Fayte Spirits seem to have woven me into it's local *spellweb* and so you have it.
I'll be very busy in the *Monotnuss* moon of Augustus as well. I have two Spell Readings scheduled on the ninth and twenty third days of Augustus.
At any rate, I'm just dropping off a few drams of treasure for Admantium, the Silver Dragon. He may wake up one of these days and need a bit of gold and such to chew on. Meanwhile, my *Spell Book* has been missing my quill as I study the ways the *Multiverse* needs me to do Drueding. On that note, dear readers, I shall *Spelleport* back to the *Monotnussverse* and carry on and such. Faretheewell!.
Thursday, June 05, 2003
Through The Door:
I walked through the door,
There were cotton candy clouds,
Lost in a blast furnace orange sky,
Stick figure birds glided over,
Ice slush waves I couldn't walk on,
The salt water sea monster awaited with whirlpools,
At the slightest toe touch I'd be drawn to the bottom,
All I could do was stare into the sunset,
No words could be cried loud enough,
Someone already spoke the magic,
Some sixties song in between purple hazes,
About Plasticene Porters and Marmelade skies,
Me, I was stuck in the boat on the river,
Man, it was a hell of a ride.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/05/2003
Author's Comments:
I painted a sunrise at the beach mural on our upstairs wall.
It's still a work in progress, but fun nonetheless. Our bedroom
door is in the mural, literally. It's quite surreal when the door is
closed.
I walked through the door,
There were cotton candy clouds,
Lost in a blast furnace orange sky,
Stick figure birds glided over,
Ice slush waves I couldn't walk on,
The salt water sea monster awaited with whirlpools,
At the slightest toe touch I'd be drawn to the bottom,
All I could do was stare into the sunset,
No words could be cried loud enough,
Someone already spoke the magic,
Some sixties song in between purple hazes,
About Plasticene Porters and Marmelade skies,
Me, I was stuck in the boat on the river,
Man, it was a hell of a ride.
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/05/2003
Author's Comments:
I painted a sunrise at the beach mural on our upstairs wall.
It's still a work in progress, but fun nonetheless. Our bedroom
door is in the mural, literally. It's quite surreal when the door is
closed.
Monday, June 02, 2003
I just crafted a new spell for a friend of mine, the Green Witch...not only was it her *Nativity Day* very recently, she also sent me a special set of spells for my own *Nativity Day* just recently, and though belated, we all know such spells arrive in our *IMAGINATUS* collections at the time that the *Multiverse* ~*Ruling Soul Force*~ is ready to allow it in the Master Plan. Without any further *Adiue*....
The Green Witch:
The Earthe turns to butter at her hands,
Fingers flying,
Spells in delicate collision,
Anything imagination can find,
She conjures easily to combine sights before your eyes,
Famous names and fantastic places,
Mejik hours in a glass tower,
Components in every closet waiting,
The perfect arcayne hour always found,
One never knowes with whom they'll speak,
When the Green Witch lights the brazier,
And burns certified Midnight Oils,
Voices, voices, letters and all that,
The Green Witch eye-twinkles with a kind clear laugh,
"Who could be prepared?"
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/02/2003
Author's Comments:
A very big THANK YOU to my friend Mary,
Otherwise known as The Green Witch.
And a belated but much-deserved Happy Birthday, Mary!!!
The Green Witch:
The Earthe turns to butter at her hands,
Fingers flying,
Spells in delicate collision,
Anything imagination can find,
She conjures easily to combine sights before your eyes,
Famous names and fantastic places,
Mejik hours in a glass tower,
Components in every closet waiting,
The perfect arcayne hour always found,
One never knowes with whom they'll speak,
When the Green Witch lights the brazier,
And burns certified Midnight Oils,
Voices, voices, letters and all that,
The Green Witch eye-twinkles with a kind clear laugh,
"Who could be prepared?"
AquarianM
By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/02/2003
Author's Comments:
A very big THANK YOU to my friend Mary,
Otherwise known as The Green Witch.
And a belated but much-deserved Happy Birthday, Mary!!!
Sunday, June 01, 2003
I've been busy over in the *Monotnussverse* again casting local *WIND* spells upon the electronic breeze. So far the effects are small, but growing, as various Monotnussians begin locating my scrollpad there and dropping by. That's the thing about *Visual* spells, they require a special class of Whizzyrds or similar creatures in any *VERSE* called *READERS* in order to gain energy and power. That takes time as they drift in off the *Spell Web*.