The Art Eclectic

The rain keeps right on falling,

making mirrors in the street.

Someone left a light on,

She Saved a Little Morning, inside each waiting petal's fold.

In all her living memory, across the endless ages, she'd never had a captive thought escape its thorny cages.

Her solemn task was not to guard, nor tend the thornbound seed. She watched the Keepers, every one, and tended every need.

So how was it that on one count one Briarheart was bare? No captive thought had ever gone, and yet one was not there.

"I sang the songs I always sing, as Keepers always do. I closed my eyes to hear it breathe, for just the count of two."

"It vanished and I don't know how. I'm sorry, Mistress Vole." But something heavy settled then inside the Mistress' soul.

She touched the corner of her eye. Her fingers came back red. "That's no excuse," she softly sighed, though fear filled her instead.

A bird in need of rest,

sat stern upon the boat,

hoping to catch a ride,

She was trying to be serious when she had a passing thought. Little did she realize what that simple thought had brought.

"What if there were," she wondered, "a dragon that did not run, but instead rolled on two wheels? Now wouldn't that be fun."

The God of Reckless Abundance

His blessings arrived in excess.

Food. Wine. Laughter.

Love.

His followers rarely complained.

Or if they did,

The Alpofeline Wedding

A confident gaze

has won

more arguments

The Horizon Keeps Its Word

“Act as if what you do makes a difference. It does.”

Grendel's mother wakes to avenge her son and calls out from her home beneath dark water. Beowulf follows her voice and dives into the depths, where the two fight until her fury fades.

The first idea was not fully formed,

a woman on a steed.

The steed believed it had a horn,

of which it had no need.

The woman thought they ought to ride,

though neither one knew where.

And so they stayed where they began,

The Kitty of Shalott

Beowulf can be streamed here: https://ditto.fm/beowulf Full Video: https://youtu.be/RpWk83ge2uI

The Whirling Butterflies of Day dream of fireflies at night,