Tuesday, June 27, 2006

Melissa Sweet

Once upon a time
In a land where life is rhyme
Where breezes traverse
In the manner of verse
And dew-drops ever long
To be singing in their song
There lived a young maiden
With blessings full-laden
Her name was Melissa Sweet

Often in the summer glow
Her vassals saw her row
Down in the river
That ripples so clever
And trips with prideful notion
Far down to the ocean
Down from her bower
Above in a tower
Would row Melissa Sweet

Some called her foolish
Some rhymed her ghoulish
Because of her wishing
Down to go fishing
There in the sunlight
And even in moonlight
But those who knew her
Could do ought but woo her--
The fair Melissa Sweet

The tawdies who tattled
And through their teeth rattled
Would have been better
If they saw a letter
A writing in rhyme
Which told of the climb
The climb m'lady had ventured
Merely to visit the indentured
Outside the castle of Melissa Sweet

There was one thing however:
The thought of a lover
That caused her heart pain
Even causing the rain
To cry on that land
Where all was so grand
For long, long ago
When down in the lilies low
Rowed Melissa Sweet

She met a bold prince
Who, pausing to rinse
Had dipped in her pond
Of which she was fond
With just but one glance
She was caught in a trance
And never thereafter
Was heard the gay laughter
Or the smile of Melissa Sweet

Mayhap if you wander
Out in the wide yonder
You may see a fair maiden
With blessings full-laden
And grant her a wish:
That she may forever fish
Free of a bold prince
Who, pausing to rinse
Stole the smile of Melissa Sweet

Inspiration: Tennyson and Poe. Don't ask.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Quotes and Chronicles

Wednesday, 21 June, 2006
10:25 p.m.
Penryn, CA

Quotes of Joel:

"Those dry heaves will get you every time."

"Church showers are very important because cleanliness is next to Godliness" (whispered confidingly into my startled ear).

A Mary Chronicle:

It was evening--that was evidenced by the bright, mystical glow of the many lamp-posts that were keeping their stations in a gratifyingly faithful manner, and also by the tell-tale sizzle of the many moths who blunderingly came to their pitiful ends after having been lured by a dreadful pest terminator contraption. Mary and I were looking out upon these things from inside the deck door with much curiosity in the frank, open manner of children.

Suddenly, the serenity of this idyllic scene was snapped in one cosmic moment. Mary was having a fit of some kind (I know because I have had many a fit in my long life), complete with thrashing arms, stomping feet, and over-exerted vocal chords. I hadn't decided whether she was especially happy, sad, frustrated , or merely insane when I heard her proclaim in a piercing voice, "A mosquito, a mosquito!" thus dispelling my ignorance and enlightening me to the true nature of the crisis at hand. Presently, Mary calmed considerably and informed me that there was indeed a mosquito in the house. I, needless to say, remained unaffected, unruffled etc. That is, until my darling neice warned me in a startling melodramatic tone:

"There's a mosquito on you--right there!" and pointed ominously at my shirt. How could I supress the prevailing impulse longer? I did what anyone would have done under the circumstances--I danced. Much to the satisfaction of my fiendish companion, who laughed.

The End

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

Sunday, June 11, 2006

Pan: quotes from J.M. Barrie's tale

"All children, except one, grow up."

"Even Slightly tried to tell a story that night, but the beginning was so fearfully dull that it appalled not only the others but himself, and he said happily: 'Yes, it is a dull beginning. I say, let us pretend that it is the end.'"

"'Wendy,' remonstrated Michael, 'I'm too big for a cradle.'
'I must have somebody in a cradle,' she said almost tartly, 'and you are the littlest. A cradle is such a nice homely thing to have about a house.'"

"Next moment he was standing erect on the rock agian, with that smile on his face and a drum beating within him. It was saying, 'To die will be an awfully big adventure.'"

"'He sighs,' said Smee.
"'He sighs again,' said Starkey.
'And yet a third time he sighs,' said Smee.
Then at last he spoke passionately.
'The game's up,' he cried, 'those boys have found a mother.'"

"'It is a princely scheme,' cried Hook, and at once it took practical shape in his great brain. 'We will seize the children and carry them to the boat: the boys we will make walk the plank, and Wendy shall be our mother.' Again Wendy forgot herself. 'Never!' she cried, and bobbed."

"To see Peter doing nothing on a stool was a great sight; he could not help looking solemn at such times, to sit still seemed to him such a comic thing to do. He boasted that he had gone walking for the good of his health."

"When she sat down to a basketful of their stockings, every heel with a hole in it, she would fling up her arms and exclaim, 'Oh dear, I am sure I sometimes think that spinsters are to be envied!' Her face beamed when she exclaimed this."

"The bed was tilted against the wall by day, and let down at 6:30, when it filled nearly half the room; and all the boys slept in it, except Michael, lying like sardines in a tin. There was a strict rule against turning round until one gave the signal, when all turned at once."

"Then all went on their knees, and holding out their arms cried, 'O Wendy lady, be our mother.'"

"'Curly,' said Peter in his most captainy voice, 'see that these boys help in the building of the house.'
'Ay, ay, sir.'
'Build a house?' exclaimed John.
'For the Wendy,' said Curly.
'For Wendy?' John said, aghast. 'Why, she is only a girl!'
'That,' explained Curly, 'is why we are her servants.'"

"'All I remember about my mother,' Nibs told them, 'is that she often said to my father, "Oh, how I wish I had a cheque-book of my own!" I don't know what a cheque-book is, but I should just love to give my mother one.'"

"Slightly was the first to speak. 'This is no bird,' he said in a scared voice. 'I think it must be a lady.'
'A lady?' said Tootles, and fell a-trembling.
'And we have killed her,' Nibs said hoarsely.
They all whipped off their caps.
'Now I see,' Curly said; 'Peter was bringing her to us.' He threw himself sorrowfully on the ground.
'A lady to take care of us at last,' said one of the twins, 'and you have killed her!'"

"In the midst of them, the blackest and largest in that dark setting, reclined James Hook, or as he wrote himself, Jas. Hook, of whom it is said he was the only man that the Sea-Cook feared."

Tink was not all bad; or, rather, she was all bad just now, but, on the other hand, sometimes she was all good. Fairies have to be one thing or the other, because being so small they unfortunately have room for one feeling only at a time."

"'Second to the right, and straight on till morning.' That, Peter had told Wendy, was the way to the Neverland; but even birds, carrying maps and cosulting them at windy corners, could not have sighted it with these instructions. Peter, you see, just said anything that came into his head."

"'I say, how do you do it?' asked John, rubbing his knee. He was quite a practical boy.
'You just think lovely wonderful thoughts,' Peter explained, 'and they lift you up in the air.'"

"'I think,' she said, 'it is perfectly lovely the way you talk about girls; John there just despises us.'
For reply Peter rose and kicked John out of bed, blankets and all. This seemed to Wendy rather forward for a first meeting, and she told him with spirit that he was not captain in her house. However, John continued to sleep so placidly on the floor that she allowed him to remain there. 'I know you meant to be kind,' she said, relenting, 'so you may give me a kiss.'
For a moment she had forgotten his ignorance about kisses."

“The lateness of the hour was almost the biggest thing of all. She got them to bed in the pirates’ bunks pretty quickly, you may be sure; all but Peter, who strutted up and down on the deck, until at last he fell asleep by the side of Long Tom. He had one of his dreams that night, and cried in his sleep for a long time, and Wendy held him tight.”

"It is a nightly custom of every good mother after her children are asleep to rummage in their minds and put things straight for next morning, repacking into their proper places the many articles that have wandered during the day."

"Her romantic mind was like the tiny boxes, one within the other, that come from the puzzling East, however many you discover there is always one more; and her sweet mocking mouth had one kiss on it that Wendy could never get, though there it was, perfectly conspicuous in the right-hand corner."

“When Margaret [Wendy’s granddaughter] grows up she will have a daughter, who is to be Peter’s mother in turn; and thus it will go on, so long as children are gay and innocent and heartless.”

These quotes, taken from one of the grandest books ever written by the pen of man, must be sufficient testimony to the truth of the matter. Who am I to expound on a work so near perfection?