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Thanks for visiting the blog of Franci Nuit! Please enjoy my works of stories, poems, and short-stories. Follow me on Wordpress and Blogger to get the most up to date notifications of new material! You can also add me on Facebook for even more updates and story pictures! Links can be found below. Your comments and feedback are always appreciated, and as always...Enjoy! xo Gros Bisous xo - FRANCI

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Hope

There lives a little shadow, that's always where you go,
he'll hide amongst the bushes, then be dancing under toe.
Constant companion is what you'll find you own,
He'll never leave your side, and you'll never be alone.
When your spirit is full of doubt, he'll be near don't you fret,
Even when you're troubled, and full of lives regret.

Through struggles and obstacles of the maddening sort,
You try to overcome, you look for last resorts.
A pain burdens you, your souls essence all but crushing,
Unable to withstand the trials, anxiety comes rushing.
Bleak is the sky now, and plagued is the minds thoughts,
Caught in the eternal limbo of death and forget me nots.

What then can separate you from the longing for better days,
How can you erase the clearing of the bitter smoggy haze.
What's keeping you from numbness, and embracing your apathy,
The little shadow always near, whispering lies of being happy.
Hope he is called, an imprisonment of falsehood that now is finally known,
He'll never leave your side, and you'll never be alone.

Husk

Wistful daydream, you have sung your last song,
The blue jay is dead, and life has gone wrong. 
Hear the silence as it screams in your ear,
The crushing pressure is all that is clear.
Harpsichord strings have all now snapped,
The shell you reside in now has you trapped.
A well fought battle this earth to you has given,
Tensions and burdens to madness you've been driven.
Petals of flowers lay shriveled at your feet,
What can be done; wake and repeat.





Prelude to Hope

...and loves only wish was to be free. So a solemn face hangs with moonlight upon its flesh. On the daunting day that breath leaves, this you'll take along with you. The only thing that mattered was having a love so true. This vehicle moves around the earth for sometimes a hundred years. At the beginning of life you are so eagerly awaited, so anticipated, so completely loved without even a soul having known your face. The joy you bring to the world when you arrive is monumental. There are parties, decorations, and gifts to ensure your well being and happiness. People travel from all over to see you, photograph you, kiss you and hold you in their arms. They care for you unconditionally, and welcome you to the world with the brightest smiles, kindest words, and excited praise. They would do anything for you, to protect you, to make a happy life for you, to see that you have everything you need. Now that the standard for love has been set, it is natural to find disappointment going forward.

When these silly childhood years have past, when all seemed painted with a hazy pinkish light, and the burdens of the world start ripping through the veil, you realize exactly where you are. The smoggy grayish air fills your sights now, the blackest tar of exasperated loneliness comes searching. Everywhere you turn something has withered or been broken. The hues of pink are gone, the scents of jasmine torn from your senses, the warmth in your chest has drained. Haven't you found a better place? Haven't your eyes gazed upon some promising endeavor? Haven't your ears heard a vibration of joy, or a fragrance that has captivated your sense of smell? Haven't your lips been pressed against an other's...as you absorb their every emotion? No. These are things that dreams are made of. The showers of stars dancing down from the skies, are all but saved for some other being. The raindrops that cascade down fleshy hills greet you daily as you look upon the mangled reflection you cast. Where could a heart go to seek refuge? A mile away, ten thousand? Perhaps these inner thoughts are purgatory for your lackluster, for your anxious mind and torturous indecisiveness.

Where then is an escape? How far can one go in this manner? What havoc can be held at bay? At the edge of the world where no man has been, there lies a stormy cliff with a horizon never-ending. A calm sea lies below, with water so still it looks as though it is made of glass. Your voice will call til it's emptiness resounds upon the waters below. Dare you spread your wings to fly? Dare not; for the gripping of binds that tie you, only greaten as you writhe. Banish your mind from its home and fill it with anything to satisfy the newly vacant spaces. Never will you find anything to extract the emotion that lives within your soul. But what if you deemed yourself soul-less? Should you then not have emotion? Ah, but even soul-less creatures carry an empty space to fill. What has taken residency in yours? The burdens you wear whether inside or outside shall destroy you in every way! To find a freedom of such a world, such a thought, such a feeling... you must surrender.

Abandon your every thought, feeling and desire. Most of us cannot. You see there lives a little shadow that's always where you go. You'll never escape it, but never find it, he is called hope.









Magical Melancholy

On a clear night of perfect navy drenched skies,
I escaped my familiar melancholy cries.
No need to hold back my most inner being,
For nothing but wonder was all he was seeing.
My cheeks hurt from laughing, and smiling so wide,
Our feelings for each other, we just couldn't hide.
The pastels were smeared across the vast azure,
Something magical was happening, of this I am sure.
Colors melted into navy, and the stars came out to play,
I knew in my heart, I'd never forget this day.
An evening stroll past quaint shops and little stands,
Was nothing to the feeling of our interlocking hands.
Electricity sparked, and popped and cracked,
All my life, he was what I had lacked.
The night dwindled down, and the hour grew late,
A kiss goodnight, to end this perfect date.
On a bright evening with the sunset so spectacular,
A tragedy occurred that simply broke my vernacular.
The ghosts he'd been running from, had caught up to him that day,
He simply couldn't do this right now, or this way.
The tattered heart that I bear in my chest was sent reeling in confusion,
Riots, and rivers raged through my soul; was this a twisted delusion?
Salt infused waterfalls burst from my eyes,
Will this life be anything more than broken promises and lies?
And on that day he stole my sight,
the one chasing ghosts within the night.


Perfect Paradox


I'll sing of rose colored dandies, and of peonies in November,
Of purple candied clouds, and blood oranges in September.
But nothing takes away the thought of what we know could be,
and nothing casting nothing, gets nothing back you see?
I'll write of perwinkle growing under a mossy pine,
and pale blue tulips curling like they're on a vine.
Still that moment comes creeping to morning and evening thought,
of the beauty and the wonder, that was so diligently fought.
I'll dance with leaves of palm trees swaying in the arctic air,
and penguins in the desert without a single care.
I'll talk of starry seas that go miles in the deep,
and ocean filled skies that always make me weep. 
But I'll never stop hoping for when we'll be together,
and I'll whisper to the empty even if it's til forever.

My Heart; Your Heart


my heart,
your heart.
in spirit,
or apart.
hear me,
love me.
don't leave,
don't go.
happy two,
i knew.
see me,
know me.
speak it,
feel it.
kiss me,
show me.
love is,
soul is.
hold me,
touch me.
your mind,
my kind.
always we,
forever be.



Desolate Speculation

A heart in plated glass stares out into the world. The velvet of the navy skies, hold her closely. Brilliant white stars look down at her and smile, almost as though they are welcoming her to them. The vastness of the atmosphere isn't unsettling. It surrounds her like a warm embrace from a distant loved one. She reaches out, stretching her limbs to connect with their gracious ambiance, but alas the thick, hard barrier keeps them just out of reach.

Soon the sun arrives, and the lovely nights all but forgotten. Warm rays of light kiss along her fragile skin through the walls of glass. Greetings of excitement of what could be; promise of cheerful outcomes. Billowy clouds sail across the pale ocean above, and the wind dances with the tree tops. She smiles feeling lively, and rejuvenated, but once again her efforts are held at bay.

Her spirit seems to burst from within, pinning itself against the taunting glass. If not for such a prison, she could float among the stratosphere, and whirl about the galaxy with her nebula companions. A spirit from another time, a soul from another place does remain trapped inside a hull of human flesh. She uses her energy to escape this torture, but the reverberation only wounds her. How can someone keep a flower encased in the dark, or a butterfly in a jar with no air? What cynical joke is being had?

Tightness forms around her. She suddenly realizes how small her quarters truly are. When the moon beams look upon her, or the sun shows his dazzling smile, she doesn't light up. She can see them calling her, beckoning with anguish in their eyes for her to be set free. But, it is no use. She is withering like the flower. She is suffocating as the butterfly.

Next to her the lungs sing out in healthy hallelujahs, for they've never known the sky, never felt the warmth of the sun. They're baffled by her dreams of leaving this, all they've known. "Protection lies here! Shelter, and comfort!" they explain.

The unknown is always calling her. Crying lovers suffering is just too much to bear. Flinging herself upon the glass she screams with all of her might. What could she be thinking? Surely she didn't think it could break the walls. Maybe she thought someone would hear her? Who could ever know?

The moon was out that night, and saw this heart-breaking view. Not a sound the moon could hear. Not even a far off hum. The heart was pressed against the glass in silent wails of hopelessness. The moons light dulled at this, and she sank very low indeed. Fading into translucence, she cried a thousand shooting stars. The onyx colored ceiling fell deep into the darkest depths of itself. Far deeper than the blackest black a human eye could fathom.

The sun, not far away heard of this dreadful happening and couldn't show his face. The sun without a smile is such a shameful sight. He simply couldn't bear to see this sorrow, and turned into an ember of dissipation.

The planets gathered around to see what happened there, and they too bore mourning in their spirits and chased the asteroids. The earth crumbled slowly without the sun and moon, while the heart, determined to break free, slammed herself back and forth in the cage. A bloody scene it was, her attempt at an escape.  The earth had, had enough but it broken into a billion pieces just as the heart exploded from her confinement.

Freedom had finally come to her! She could drift into the galaxies! Bruised and beaten she didn't even care, for now she could be where she belonged. But as luck would have it, her tragedy had taken everything away she'd ever loved. Is it really freedom, if you're all alone? Now the universe was her newfound cell, only this time, even hope had left her. She was now doomed to live out her days in the gloom of the nothing. 

Parasite

Wretched heart how doth thee betray me!
How you've lingered in your foolish optimism of what could be!
Curse your joyful songs! Banish your futile effort!
Your whispering hypnosis, your laughs so simply curt!
You hide there in my chest behind protective ribs of bone,
You scream of a fantasy that you have never known!
Beastly liar you've injured my mind,
Release me from this excruciating bind!
You've placed a rosy color of glass upon my gullible eye,
Now that it's been stolen, all I can do is cry.
It's such a putrid, rotting world with no love that could be true!
How dare you try to fool me, now I don't know what to do!
You ran away and broke in pieces when I needed you the most,
You're just another parasite, and I, a withering host. 

Heartache In My Eyes

How could you hold me in such a gentle way,
Your love you wouldn't give; you hid it far away
Over cloudy hilltops the sun screamed as it rose,
The stinging of a new day scorched from my head unto my toes.
Pretend to care, they always do,
Before we even started we were already through.
How could you kiss me with such a passion of sweet
Oh my beaten heart now lay between my feet.
Stop your wicked twists, your mind of cruel puppeteering,
My feelings I cried to you, but it was merely endearing.
Why must you waste the precious lives we live,
I don't have anything but myself to give.
Run, dash, sprint as fast as you might,
So you'll never feel the ache of a loves morbid bite.
They always say "in the past" but the future has become,
Assuming all they encounter are only a source of scum.
How funny it must be, how amusing this film of jeers,
How my heart gets ripped and stretched and bleeds out salty tears.
If you cared at all, if you saw some spark of a special one,
Then maybe there would be a hope instead of it already done.
Go then! Toss me aside as all the others have in recent times,
Laugh, and Live and hold your side as you mock my simplistic rhymes!
This is the dwindling of something that could be true,
How could you simply deny it, if you haven't even a clue?
Retreat to your tasks, and your burdens and your punch card.
Love is made of magic, it was never to be this hard.
When you've acquired your earth bound desires,
I won't hear your tears when you're surrounded by liars.
I stood here before you, my heart gushing out,
But nothing ever matters, when it, my hearts about.
You'll succeed in your endeavors and jolly good for you,
But you'll realize your chance was missed, and there'll be nothing you can do.
Farewell to hope, shoot down my lives desire, kill my only joy
They always see my soul as a momentary toy.
I leave you here alone, to find it later on,
my dried out heart that you carelessly stepped upon.  

The Battle of Obscure Reverie

Where have you been? When I was a child a moment captivated my soul. A fleck of flickering fire landed there upon my heart. That moment was forever the journey, forever the thought, the feeling, the push, the treasure of life. "Until my dying day" I swore to myself. There in a 10 year old's heart a vision of cherished love was born. A sworn promise was made that day; one of hope, dreams, and aspiration. Always pushed aside, looked over by those other than family. Oddity consumed her being, her mind always spinning in fantasy. Pictures came to her mind over the years, optic hallucinations of a joyful life. Doused in honey colored overlays of what would be. Through all of these allurements one constant rang ever steadfast, that a man of spirit would appreciate this wild thing. Could someone love this untamed presence trapped inside such a battered husk? 

Into the wide world she cast her soul; unrestricted, relentless. Time and time again rejection loomed overhead. Still, the strings of her hope held her high, like that of a thousand balloons soaring through clouds of promise. With each turn an angry clash resounded, prescient to the stinging slice of a single thread being torn from the cluster. Hope sagged slightly with the loss of opportunity, but her heart sang clearly, for this was merely a stepping stone. She realized she was now only closer to that amber utopia of happiness. Of course not any suitor would be the path to this euphoric atmosphere. 

While her heart seemed to be full of energy, and livelihood, almost bursting from her earth bound shell, her mind was a constant cling to the horrors of what could be. Consciousness danced itself into the same wide world, laughing and full of wonder and excitement. Quickly shot down by poachers of hate, it retreated into itself, becoming devoured by worrisome uncertainty. Anxiety was born in the deepest depths of her mentality, and as it grew faster and faster, the heart could barely keep up. This was the beginning of an exasperating battle between the two, but her essence remained strong. 

Two thousand long years passed and the mind had all but poisoned her. Lost in the sea of broken dreams, gasping for air in the turmoil of the waves of tears and blood she shrieked and clawed. She clutched the air in search of something to pull her from the wretched lies, and soft spoken beatings. "Just let me go" she shrieked between gasps. Her eyes closed and she sank into the wavy currents, deeper and deeper. She sat on the ocean floor with shock. Nothing moved, her mind was still. The light grew darker and darker with each passing moment, but still she remained. A warmth came over her, and her heart smiled. As she floated to the surface again, golden tulips surrounded her. That refreshing feeling returned to her. She knew her heart would never give up. She would find what she was seeking one day. Her heart strings were all but gone, with the exception of the very last one. Woven in iron the last thread held her. "But even iron rusts" she muttered.

Her eyes lifted to the sky and the spattered stars were out performing their evening waltz. Her hope was not yet dead, it could never die. Then when the moon showed her shining rays, he appeared. A benevolent explosion overwhelmed her and she fell to the ground in astonished elation. The poison of her apprehension seeped out from her mind, and repelled itself completely. Their battle had ended, and she was immersed into that wonderful day dream, one of everlasting bliss. 


Entrapment

A riot in a twisted frame,
a blundering essence does remain.
Halt there upon the oaken door,
Mindless feelings falling through the floor.
Shout to the nothing, and beat down the vines,
Clawing fingertips against the countless binds.
Salted streams of clarity escape the battered eyes,
Ribs enclosed in seamless rivets, break out in wretched cries.
Toiling through the darkest bleak; bone and flesh are torn apart
The clamoring of the chains and iron, beat down upon the heart.
Moreover the screeching ravens, the shredded love has past
For who could ever love this soul, and make it truly last?

Fictitious Joy

    
The many shades of sunset skies pour out across the lands,
and the billowing clouds above stretch out their wispy hands.
Caught between the summer sun, and moonlit evenings that follow,
a porous heart cries out, with an echoing against its hollow.
The misty perfumed air leaves a rosy colored trail,
but an empty love encircles, and leaves the spirit frail.
Restless, but still dancing to the only song it knows,
it glides through the phony smiles and many proud egos.
A glittering wonderland of magic, hope and love,
is all that's seen through the eyes of this enchanted dove.
Alas it's all but a dark and wretched facade of loveless smiles,
the tyranny of souls creeps over the land for miles.
Searching, always searching for its true counterpart,
is the yearning for this broken and somewhat crackled heart.
Dainty stars come out to play across plum colored skies,
just as the loneliness pours out from her tired eyes.
A belonging is there somewhere is all she's ever been told
trapped in a world of things so cruel of stature, greed, and cold.
The souls that wear their veil of pride peel back her reverie.
Blinded by the gloomy anguish, she struggles not to see
Fictitious joy flows through their callous veins,
and a vacant, empty shell is now all that remains.
Piercing her flesh like a thousand daggers and traps,
the frail one shrivels down, to a broken heart collapse.
The many shades of sunset skies will never now be found,
a fractured beaten heart, now lies upon the ground.

The Wilted Tulip

The wilted tulip's at my door;
Her fragile petals fallen to the floor.
The withered stem that holds her tall;
Can't promise harm does not befall.
Leafy hands to the ground are stretched;
Stress marks on her body, etched.
Her color is fading from green to brown;
Her face hangs just above the ground.
She looks at me with pollen in her eyes;
Tries to call out between her cries.
This wilted little tulip is not past gone;
She has the strength to carry on.
A bit of sun and water too;
Are just enough to get her through.





Summer in the South

Silver planes and sandy beaches
marmalade and juicy peaches
Sweet sweet tea and country fry 
Mountains so tall they reach the sky
Grassy yards and bare foot toes
Eggs 'n grits where it hardly snows.
Lighting bugs and Fireflies
All the same little glowy guys
BBQ cookouts and alligators
Campfires and fried green "tomaters"
Lots of cameo and the ducks dynasty
O' the south is just for me

Next to Nebula

Somewhere in the atmosphere, 
The temperature rises and everything's clear.
A beacon of light burns so far away, 
The beaming white star seems to linger at bay.
From the depths of the galaxies this circumpolar star,
Reaches in your soul, and begins to heal the scar.
Solar nebula's dance in their clusters of healing, 
Constellations of hope sprinkle a navy velvet ceiling.
Whimsical dwarfs cast their resonance upon you,
This celestial peace is a feeling you're sent to.
Driving your spirit towards it perfect lunation,
You finally find hope in hearts joyful ablation.


Wistful Unison

A heart wandered there along the lonely road
Through branches and brambles it persistently strode.
Cuts and bruises did it boldly bare
Angst towards the ones that had put them there.
Bitterness captured and clouded the hazy view
Uncertainty followed close always trying to push through.
Bloody footprints left in its indecisive trail
Tortured emotion hidden behind an intricate veil.
Down the path unknown there embarked another
The heart would soon meet, and soon discover.
This heart too wore wounds of her own
But this one had faced them, and they left her alone.
She danced down the path toward where ever she was meant
Until she came across a heart seemingly heaven sent.
Others didn't see it underneath its cloak of stone
But it had the strongest aura she had ever known.
The veil grew more transparent, and she got a little sight
Oh how tragically battered this heart was, and she held it tight.
Then a magical moment happened of epic degree
The walls crumbled down, and they could both now see.
Wounds and gashes now only faded scars
They healed one another, and drifted to the stars.

Mon Âme

33 years has passed me by 
Yet I still search for my perfect guy
Not one who is rich or perfectly formed
But one who is gracious, and loving, and warm
When I look in his eyes they sparkle back at me
With a fire and glow of volcanic degree
And a heart that beats faster because I am near
And a desire for me that's in no way unclear
When he leaves my side I stay in his mind
A feeling such as this is hard to define
But a soul that wants nothing more than lives bliss
Is the perfect connection for true loves first kiss
He stands tall over me, but not in domination
He means to protect this frail and coy creation
With a touch so soft that it's barely felt
Yet still so strong that it makes my heart melt
And the laughter that rings and vibes from my chest 
Is caused by his witty and insightful jests
And the love in his heart that he always seems to speak
Turns my life to ecstasy from its former putrid bleak 
And when he speaks to me its with patience and care
When he see's my soul, he doesn't see its wear
Certainly he views providence and protection
As things that are high in his womans direction
And when I am angry, bitter or depressed
He surely stops at nothing to clean up this tensing mess
The words that are formed through his purely sweet smile
Make my heart simply fly in the clouds for awhile
A warming of the soul is surrounding me 
My heart screams out "together shall you be"
And eyes of passion that draw me in
I surrender this battle that I cannot win
Together we would make such a perfect life
With you as my husband and me as your wife
A house full of love that truly makes our world
And couple of dogs on the sofa are curled
I know it's jumping forward more quickly than one would guess
But when your heart knows something it will stop at nothing less
Some people have to talk for a very long time 
To decide and figure out God's perfect design
But my heart will not hush it just will not rest
Be patient I can't even though I try my best
Oh no I fear it won't be soon
A life alone will be my doom
But my heart beats in my chest so fast 
I know you are out there, different from the rest
Let's find each other, be together, why not
Then drift into forever, and in the stars be caught.

My Companion

If it is distance that keeps your heart from mine,
extract that which keeps us apart.
If it is time that keeps your mind from yielding to your soul,
follow your heart.
If it is fear that keeps your feelings protected,
expose all emotion within.
If it is doubt that clouds your vision, 
cleanse your sight and let my love in.

Speak and my heart is yours;
Smile and my world is full of joy.
Gaze into my eyes and my mind is hypnotized.
Your presence brings me so much joy.
Daft are you at times my love,
I am here pouring my love out to you, 
though it goes unnoticed.
Time heals that which hurts the worst, a sorrowful song I sing.
A shadowy cloud over my heart brings rain filled days to my life.
Lipid pools of cerulean captivate my soul and pull me close.
But alas this is temporary, for my hearts' nostalgic feelings for love consume me
And anguish is my oppressed companion.

Mourning of Morning

Time tells all, but time does fall;
Morning glories grow ten feet tall.
Where brooks and streams lay counter-part;
They flow toward the oceans of my heart.
Sparrows fly low by meadows grass;
Forgetting all of a hearts broken past.
6 o'clock and the sun peaks through;
Only thing on my mind is you.
So sing a sprightly tune, and hum a melody;
Dream a gentle dream of together that we'll be.

The Soldier

Lonely hearts, so far away
Growing distant everyday.
My heart still holds onto loves hope;
With worrisome thoughts, love feels revoked.
As I read the thoughts you've felt for me;
My heart grows sad and tears spring free.
Glistening tears stream down my face;
As I remember your love, it can't be erased.
My heart cries out, do you still love me;
How can I know, how can I see?
Faith, that is all that is left to hold onto;
Love, that is all that I can feel for you.
It's been so long since I've heard your voice;
Or gotten letters, is this by your choice?
It's like your a ghost that has just vanished;
It feels as though my love you have banished.
Tear kissed pillows is where my head rests;
I cry myself to sleep; with you I was blessed.
Come back to me...come back to my heart;
Will you return or will we remain apart?
Missing you more with each passing day;
Where has your love gone, where does your heart lay?
I woke up last night, and thought I felt you here;
It must have been a dream for you are no where near.
I close my eyes and I hear your voice; I see your sweet face;
I see your loving eyes and feel your strong embrace.
I am still here, waiting, loving you;
Hoping that your love is still true.
Has your heart grown far and forgotten my love;
Days pass slowly with no sign from above.
You have forgotten me, though why would you remember;
The last time we spoke was back in September.
My heart hurts, throbbing with sadness;
Speak to me and my soul will feel gladness.
Forever you remain in my thoughts and soul;
You're the only one to fill this bleak dismal hole.
My heart grows dark with worry and fear;
That you don't love and you'll never be near.
Tell me my love what do you feel;
Make it known, the truth please reveal.
Sorrow lingers by clouding my view;
The world has turned gray, all I see is you.
Peace will be felt soon, tell me it's true;
Stop this aching heart from coming unglued.

The Thunderstorm

Darkness closes in upon the day;
The white fluffy clouds start turning gray.
The light on the grass becomes very dim;
The short fat tree's start looking tall and slim.
The children that were playing there;
Look up at the sky and begin to stare.
The raindrops fall gaining much speed;
The warnings that their mothers gave, the children do not heed.
Thunder booms and lightening flashes;
The water falls in little splashes.
The children scream with dreadful fright;
The thunderstorm there is a terrible sight.
The muddy water rushes down the street;
Into each little yard that was once very neat. 
The raindrops now slow their pace;
They know very well that this is no race.
For under each blanket each child hides;
And each run to the door where their mother resides.
The mothers assure their children 'Its alright'
They put their arms around them to hold them tight.
The mothers each tuck in their own little child;
For now this raging storm is only very mild.
And as each person sleeps warm in their own room;
The thunder crashes far away, in a small, little, BOOM!

The Girl & The Rose

In life we play roles, such as in a play;
Some bitter, some sweet, some bright, some gray.
And as we play roles that are assigned;
Hearts seem to wander, but no one seems to mind.
And then we look around and see that people care;
We stop for a moment, just to simply stare.
So sits in a small little kitchen scope;
A younger woman who finds things hard to cope.
Telling a story to three young girls;
With light blue dresses and silky brown curls.
The younger woman, lost by name;
Tells of a sad story, but none of much fame.
In a valley of branches, weeds and thorns;
A young girl sits and sadly mourns.
To have a love would make her glad;
And to be loved would keep her from being sad.
But most fantasies and fairy tales don't come true;
Someone only made them up, to keep from being blue.
But then no sooner than that does she notice a single rose;
It brightens her day as it blossoms and grows.
As soon as she touches this fragile piece of art;
It crumbles away and breaks her heart.
This rose is gone and it's the girl that bares the blame;
This I'm afraid was merely just a game.
But lovingly she picks up the pieces and plants them in her soul;
And she returns to her house atop the knoll.
Up to her house she goes and begins to turn the knob;
But then this trouble girl breaks out into a sob.
Now glance around young lady fair;
This rose has vanished for it never did care.
If ever she was alone it was at this time and place;
No one can help her to fill this empty space.
Crying made her feel secure;
No regrets and very sure.
But look around sweet tender soul;
No one is here with you in the vast dismal hole.
Eternally scarred, forever in pain;
This rose took her heart and left her in vain.
Where ever this rose has departed to;
I wish that I could find a way to bring it back to you.
Thy young lady fair, thy sweet tender soul;
Thy younger woman that lives upon the knoll.
Your dearly precious rose has fallen to the floor;
And your quite gentle heart has been broken once more.

TWT - Chapter 6

The children stood looking at the townspeople in confusion. Their faces were serene, as though they had no knowledge of what ever had done this to them. “It's uncertain who they were after, but it's clear what has happened” Parrow announced. “Yea, more fighting between these idiots. Looks like they found whoever they were looking for or this town would be buried. Stupid Grounders couldn't even release the townspeople” Pasha added. “I thought we talked about rude name calling?” Parrow frowned. Pasha instantly started apologizing, and while the two were talking Laric looked at the confused expressions that the others wore. Before Dovie had a chance to ask, Laric answered her question “Clayish; people of the soil and winds. Two parts of their kind does exist.” While that didn't necessarily clear anything up for them, they figured it was the best answer Laric could give them. From the corner of her eye Brietta saw Parrow hugging Pasha tightly, and assumed they worked it out. She felt down-hearted because she could have sworn she and Parrow shared a few special moments. That hug looked a little more than friendly , and she watched and Pasha ran her fingers through Parrow's hair playfully. She put the thought out of her mind and asked Pasha about the Clayish. She looked startled, but answered quickly. “Well ya see there's two types of Clay. There's the peacemaker one's that care for the soil so plants and food can grow. Decent people from what I know. They help build things and work with the land. Most importantly, they help put out wild fires” she explained with a glance at Laric. He cowered in embarassment and a little fear, but then replied, “I hold no responsibility for my ancestors!” Dovie stomped her foot, “ANYHOW? What about this other group?”

Pasha continued, “Both groups work with The Blossom. Those are a special race that who ensure care for all plantlife. The Blossom has been good to all of us. But, since the Queen died and her daughter has taken over, some of the Clayish have turned against everyone. They blame the Jollies for destroying the earth and plants. But mostly they blame the Fluxians for their terrible floods that wipe out their homes and food sources. That's the other group of Clayish...the ones dead set on eliminating all Fluxian. Oh yea!! Fluxian people control water, if you haven't guessed already” She chuckled at their faces after her lengthy explaination. Dovie, Brietta and Abbott stood flabbergasted with their mouths hanging open in complete information overload. “All these years I went to school...I thought I was learning stuff, but it just seems like I don't know nothing at all!” Dovie rambled. “What? They don't teach you Jollies this stuff in school?” Parrow laughed heartily. He composed himself and added, “Ok on a more serious note. Do you guys understand what is happening now?” “S-Sort of. The bad sided Clay people attacked this town?” Brietta guessed. “Righto! They must have been looking for a Fluxian person that was staying here, and instead of searching quietly, they decided to dredge up a mud storm” Pasha said angrily. Abbott wondered if there was any way to help the people of Haraway, and asked Parrow what could be done. “Well the good thing is that we can help them. It's just gonna take awhile. But the more we help, the more of them will be able to help us” he told them.

After Pasha and Parrow told them all how to help the townspeople, everyone began searching for buckets to fill with water. “Alright so we're gonna have to dump this on everyone” Parrow instructed. “Well that seems pretty easy” Dovie said. “Yea just be careful because they could have poisoned the mud” Pasha called over her shoulder as she dumped a bucket of water onto a nearby woman. The hard dirt shell turned to goopey mud and began to slide off the woman. She shrieked and tried to wipe her eyes but just stirred the mud around. Pasha quickly gave her a wet rag, and the woman wiped her eyes and face. “Thank you! I think I'm alright. We'd know if it was poisoned. I just think I got it in my eye” the woman said. Everyone started quickly helping the townspeople, and several of them told Parrow that this wasn't the first time the Clay had attacked their town. “Time before last no one came along to help us, and we had to wait for a rainy day. 5 days stuck in that dirt prison!” an old man informed them.

How terrible!” Brietta empathized. “But what do they want?” Dovie asked. The old man looked at the ground nervously, and then back up at the children. Just as he opened his mouth to speak a middle aged man interupted, “No tellin' with these folks. They just show up, cover our town in mud and leave.” Parrow frowned at the man, “So you're telling me, this keeps happening and you have no idea why?” The middle aged man laughed awkwardly and nodded. He wasn't a very good liar. He took the old man by the elbow and tried to pull him away from the group, but the old man stood his ground. “I mean to tell these nice young people what's been going on!” He fumed. “Suit yourself! I'll not be part of this! You're gonna get yourself killed!” The middle age man shouted as he stormed off. The group exchanged looks of surprise. “Maybe we should find somewhere a little more private for this conversation” Pasha suggested. The old man nodded and motioned for them to follow him. As they walked quickly behind the old man, they saw other townspeople cleaning up mud from themselves. The town itself was actually quite nice. Tudor styled buildings lined a large main road and carts of food and supplies were parked here and there. Just before the main road ended leading out to a field away from town, the old man ducked into an alley. At the far end an old wooden door stood waiting for them, and they entered it silently.

A small room with a great fireplace, a table for two, and a rocking chair took up the space. In the corner was a small kitchen area, and a ladder that led up to what could only be the bedroom. “Ain't the fanciest place in town, but it gets the job done” the old man said. “What burdens have you in this town” Laric asked him in his odd way. The old man glanced at him carefully and asked, “And you're one of them fire people ain't ya? I've met one er two of yer kind before.” Laric nodded slowly, “Yes. I am not like the others. I mean no harm to your people.” The old man waved his hand dismissively, “I know what them fire folks do! Stealin' our crops, and burnin' our fields! I don't want nothing to do with ya!” At this Parrow spoke up, “He's telling the truth! Please hear him out!” He wasn't sure why he trusted this Laric kid, maybe he just reminded him of a younger version of himself. Or, maybe he felt a bond with him because of his decision to leave the Thermic life behind. Whatever the reason, Parrow could tell that the old man had something important to tell them, and he didn't want him holding back because of Laric's family.

The old man sighed, and lowered himself into the rocking chair. He was a thin, frail man, and was totally bald with a long stringy white goatee. His watery blue eyes looked from one group member to the next. They gathered around and took a seat on the floor nearby to show him they were ready to listen. “Well I reckon I can trust ya, and if not then my fate will greet me when it's set to. That feller that was talkin' to me in the street, he's an ugly sort. Couple of them folks 'round here actually. Didn't pay 'em no mind until this weird stuff started happening. I done exactly the wrong thing, and went pokin' around. They didn't take too kindly with that, but I found out some interestin' things. Turns out them odd folks been hiding even stranger folks in a room under the Boarshound Inn. Folks that move water around, and speak in a strange accent. I even seen one of 'em drown somebody...had this big bubble over their head 'an they was tryin' to scream. Then he fell over, dead! It's true! I seen it with my own eyes! Well next thing ya know a new group o' weirdos show up, and they was blastin' us with mud, and stirrin' up tornaders right in front of folks! One day I was out huntin', and when I came back the whole town was covered in mud. At the furthest end of the road I seen 'em, them Clay people. Two big guys from our town was holdin' one of them water folks...uh, Fluxian I reckon they call themselves. A couple other dirt fellas were there too. That water feller tried to blast the woman that was there with water, but since the whole town was covered in dirt there was no water to round up. The brown-haired woman forced him to drink some kinda liquid. Then it happened! Looked like mud shot out of that mans mouth and I saw him hit the ground. Soon after it was like he dried up, then he turned to dust, and blew clear away...was like he never existed!” he finished with a confused expression.

Everyone sat dumbfounded at this wild story. Pasha clenched her knuckles, and gritted her teeth. Parrow and Laric shook their heads with disbelief. Brietta, Dovie, and Abbott didn't know what to think! A month ago if someone told them a story like this, that's exactly what they would think it was...a crazy story. No way anything like this could really happen, but now after all of the incredible things they saw for themselves, it was almost easy to believe something like this could happen. “What happened after the Fluxian guy disappeared?” Dovie wondered aloud. “Welp the dirt folks took a sack of coins out and gave it to our two town fellers...Thomas Norwood and Jeremiah Duncan. The rest of us didn't hear from them strange Clayish until next time” the old man explained. “Sir, what name are you called” Laric asked him next. “Why I don't reckon that's any use to ya for this here problem! But, I guess it won't hurt none if I tells ya. Name's Jerry McCloud, pleased to meet ya. Ya'll figure you can help us out with our little problem?” he asked them. Pasha seemed confident as usual, but Parrow looked like he had some doubts. However unsure the rest of them seemed, they couldn't say no to an old man in need of help, not to mention an entire town. So they told Mr. McCloud they would certainly do everything they could to help the townspeople.

Eleven, it was eleven times that Dovie mentioned how hungry she was as they walked back into town, and Pasha was over it. Pasha rolled her eyes, walked away, and huffed something about camping in the woods without food for 3 days. Once everyone had been freed from their muddy prisons, and gotten cleaned up, the town seemed to bustle with activity. The street lights now shone with a warm comforting light along the main street. The shop windows were illuminated as well. The townspeople, although shaken from the earlier events, seemed in a merry mood. There were two restaurants in the town, and they stood right across the street from one another. The first was a cheery pub style place named Calhouns, and the second seemed a bit out of place in such a small, unwealthy town. It was called The Silver Spoon, and seemed to be a more upscale type of place that served fancy foods. The group was covered in dirt, and sweat from their travels, and felt that Calhouns would be a more suitable place for them this evening. With that decision made, they finally headed over to the restaurant, with Dovie skipping ahead of everyone of course.

She reached the large wood and iron doors, and pulled hard. The heavy door swung open to reveal a quite cozy scene. A large fireplace stood at the far side of the place, and several long wooden tables stretched from end to end. Three of the huge tables were already filled to the max with townsfolk laughing and scarfing down legs of turkey, plates filled with veggies, and pints of that bubbly stuff only adults seemed to enjoy. It reminded Brietta, Dovie, and Bo of the picnic style benches they had at school, and they smiled at the display of people enjoying each others company over a good meal. An arched doorway opened up to the left of the giant fireplace, and suddenly a woman came rushing through it. “Good evenin'! Sorry to keeps ya's waitin', didn't hear ya come in! Who would with all this racket? Well, I'm just glad to see everyone able to bounce back to their old selves after all this nonsense from earlier. You lot wanna have a seat? Ya sit where ya likes, an' I'll be round with a menu or two. Names Nan, holler if ya's need me” she told them pleasantly. She was a stout woman with a huge messy brown bun gathered strategically on the very top of her head, she gave them a smile, then took off through the archway again.

Once everyone had ordered their food, and Nan brought out some ice cold soda's for them, they talked about their travels, and went over idea's of how to help the people of this town. Laric seemed especially put off by the Fluxian's prescence, and made some rather rude comments about how they will get what's coming to them. Parrow didn't necessarily agree with Laric, but didn't seem that he exactly disagreed either. Brietta was surprised by this, but said nothing. Instead she pushed a half eaten new potato around on her plate with her fork, and sighed. “What is it?” Parrow asked as he noticed her downcast gaze. “Oh, I j-just don't see why everyone seems to have a problem with these Fluxian people” she said before she realized it. Pasha shot her a look, and opened her mouth to speak, but instead guzzled down the rest of her soda, and announced that she was going to the restroom. Parrow and Laric seemed shocked that someone wouldn't know why Fluxians were not well received. “I think they seem alright, well from what I can tell anyhow” Bo blurted as he gnawed on a drumstick. “What do you know about them” Dovie said in a snarky tone. Bo stopped chewing and blinked. For a moment he sat in silence, clearly flustered by Dovie's question. “Oh, uh...I just meant that from what the book says, they don't seem so bad” he said nervously. He had a horrible knot in his stomach, one that told him he shouldn't say anything about meeting the Fluxian Laraya, or that her daughter could be one too.

Laric stared at Abbott in disbelief, then spoke in a very disgruntled tone indeed. “If you had read its contents you would understand that the reason for the start of the desintergration of everything was begun by a Fluxian hand. Yield your words fair-minded!” Laric huffed angrily. Dovie looked shocked, and frowned at him, but before she could speak Parrow caught Laric by the elbow. “This group has come together to bring peace to the elements, the people of the land, and the skies. Take your Thermic tongued ugliness, and leave us!” Parrow hissed. Laric stood quietly, took a final look around at them, then turned to leave. “Well that was a bit dramatic! I don't think we should just leave him here all alone!” Dovie snapped. She sprang from her seat to chase after him. Brietta rose to follow her, but Parrow said, “Agh! She'll be back. Just give her a bit.” Brietta nodded, and rested her head in her hands. Parrow slid over to the seat next to her, and gently placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. When Pasha returned, she noticed the two and asked what had happened. Bo quickly filled her in, and she seemed indifferent about it. “Well c'mon let's go see what can be done. I never thought I would be signing up for babysitting. Sheesh!” she complained. Parrow left some coins on the table for Nan, and the four of them wandered outside to find the other two.

Understanding does not wash over you, my beauty. The Fluxian are a dangerous people, they mean much harm to the Elementals and the Jollies as well. I mean to protect you, I mean to ensure your safety at all costs. I mean to...kiss you one day” Laric told Davita before the others had joined them. Normally Dovie would have decked this guy for saying something like that, but for some strange reason anger didn't fill her mind. Instead, her face grew intensely warm, and she felt it very difficult to maintain eye contact with Laric. She stifled a silly giggle, and looked down at her shoes. Laric took her hands into his, but just then he saw the others exiting the restaurant. Dovie spun around to see what was happening, and Parrow told them that they were heading over to the Boarshound Inn to get some sleep. “We can make a plan in the morning” he informed everyone. As they all walked over to the inn, Parrow and Brietta hung back a bit, and the two could be heard whispering together. “W-We'll meet you inside” Brietta called to the rest of them as they reached the doors to the inn. They all gave a shrug, and pulled open the entrance doors. All of course except Pasha, who tried to catch Parrow's eye but finally gave up and joined the others inside.

It's a good night for a walk. I have some things that I wanted to talk to you about” Parrow told Brietta as he gently lead her down a little path off the main road. The trail was lit with torch style lights, but they were sparsely placed and only gave a soft glow. Soon the two reached a little pond where fire-flies danced above the water, and the occasional bull frog croaked. Someone had carved a wooden bench out of a fallen log, and it made a perfect place for the two to sit together. “What a day. Seems like everytime we turn around another obstacle finds it way into our path” Parrow said looking out at the pond. “I r-really appreciate you helping me, my sister, and cousin. There is so m-much going on. Please don't feel like you have to look after us. If you want to go your own way, I-I understand” she told him hesitantly. He turned to look at her, and smiled a dazzling grin. “Brietta, I think you're great. None of this is a burden of any kind. I want to help you and your family. It's truly a pleasure spending time with you, even if the circumstances aren't exactly perfect. Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?” he asked her sweetly. She blushed, and looked down at the flower in her hands that she'd picked earlier. Silence fell between them, and she began to fidget with the stem of the flower nervously. Suddenly, she realized that she hadn't even replied. Her gaze left the little daisy, and met again with Parrow's. He was truly a handsome fellow, probably the most handsome Brietta had ever met. She thought of all the boys that used to tease her at school, and wondered how such a cute, sweet guy could say such wonderful things to her. She smiled bashfully, and searched his eyes for a clue as to what he was thinking. He leaned in closer and Brietta's eyes darted away, only to return again to his gaze. All at once he was kissing her, his tender lips upon hers. She closed her eyes, and seemed to drift away as they shared this magical moment.


When they broke away from each other, Brietta felt her face grow very hot indeed. Parrow smiled at her, and tucked Brietta's hair behind her ear. “You're a good kisser” he said softly. Brietta's face turned a bright red, but thankfully Parrow couldn't really tell in the dim light of the torches. He took her by the hand, and mentioned how they better meet up with the others. She let him lead her down the path once again, but this time she was sure that she was floating.

That night, as everyone slept in their beds at the Boarshound Inn, Abbott tossed and turned. His odd sleep behavior was acting up again. He heard voices speaking to one another in a strange way. They sounded like they were standing right beside his bed. Louder and louder the voices were talking, almost as if they were yelling. Finally Abbott sat up, but this wasn't like the other times he walked around at night. It wasn't like the times when he lived with his aunt and uncle. No, this time he was actually awake. He wandered out into the hall, then down the large wooden steps leading to the first floor. As he approached the main floor, he saw the hotel clerk leave her post and slip into the back room. A perfect opportunity to sneak past her and explore. He just had to find out where those voices were coming from. Quickly he dashed across the lobby following the sound of the voices, and found himself in front of a plain wooden door. This one wasn't lavish and heavy at all. It was hardly more impressive than if they would have used a piece of plywood. Abbott turned the handle and door opened with a gentle creak. He glanced over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching, then slipped through the doorway.

The voices seemed to sound like a normal volume now, not like before when they seemed to be in his mind. An unstable looking wooden staircase took him down what felt like two stories, until he finally reached the bottom. He thought to himself “Geez, there's nothing even down here.” Then plopped himself down on the last step. All that was around him were the two side walls of the staircase and a solid rock wall in front of him. As he sat in frustration at the disappointment of where the stairwell led him, he noticed something. The voices had stopped. He was sitting in complete silence, staring at the stone wall. “Why would someone build a set of stairs that leads to nowhere? There has to be something behind that wall” he thought to himself. He walked up to the wall, and pressed his ear against its cool smooth surface. He thought perhaps if the wall wasn't very thick he could somehow break through it. He strained to hear anything, but all he could hear was the dripping of water from the ceiling. He came away from the stone wall, and held his hand out to catch the water. Looking up he saw that the drops weren't falling fast at all. Someone had placed a little silver pail to catch the water of the leaky ceiling. He dipped his hand into the water, and found that it was quite hot. Surprised he withdrew it quickly, then grabbed the pail and flung it at the stone wall. The force of the bucket had no effect on the wall, but the water revealed something etched into the stone. “Upside down right hand must be, 3 of left foot, then you'll see” Bo read aloud.


For some people, riddles and such are a mind boggling thing. For Abbott Winterdale, riddles were as easy as riding a bike. So, when he read the riddle, he chuckled and knew exactly what to do. He twisted his right hand so that his palm faced out, and his fingers pointed to the ground. Then he placed it against the stone wall. Next, he pressed his left foot against the wall, careful only to have his first three toes touching the wall. It was an awkward position, and he had to steady himself carefully so that he wouldn't fall. The wall softened, and Abbott seemed to fall through where the stone wall once stood. Strangely, he found himself lying on the ground in another room. When he picked himself up, he saw that he was standing in a lavish living room. Everything about this room was elegant, and everything was stark white. The chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the fluffy fur rug in the middle of the room, and the expensive leather couches, were all white! Large curtains hung in front of murals painted to look like the outdoors, and the décor around the room was all made of crystal, and pearls.

Bo looked around and wondered if he had bumped his head, and was just imagining all of this. Just as he was thinking this, the single white door in the room opened. A man and woman came through the door, smiling and laughing. They were odd looking, sort of like those strange people he saw by the river when he first left on this crazy journey. The man was slender with a muscular build. His wavy brown hair was styled like someone from the 1930s would have it. Deep set blue eyes sparkled under his brows, and a thin (truly unnecessary) mustache sat on his lip. The woman was beautiful with a pearl-pink skin tone, and long blue dreadlocks. She was tall and lean built, and her dark brown eyes seemed like they held a secret behind them. The two of them were both dressed in strange outfits as well. The man wore a nice suit with a jacket made entirely of woven seaweed, and the womans dress was dazzling and covered in purple clam shells. Both of them wore a pendant with a drop of water. Abbott recognized this, and came to the realization that these people were Fluxians.

They didn't seem to notice him at all, but instead walked over to the couch and sat down. They talked in that strange accent about something called the Masconese, and the mysterious book Abbott and the girls found. He crept closer to them, unsure whether or not to reveal his presence. “They grow quite impatient lately. The new leader will be known soon, yet they seem to be losing hope. The messenger has been sent to him, but his mind remains distracted” the man mentioned to the woman. She nodded and responded politely, “My dear Quimby, our hopes need to remain steadfast. The boy will soon be found, and persuaded. He will realize his importance to our people. His heart will understand the betrayal of his sister. He will know how she turned her back on him before her first words, and his anger will ensure his loyalty to us.” The man nodded in agreement, and wore a relieved expression. “Wise words you speak my darling. Whenever I think of your words, my heart fills with love. For your name truly reflects the ways of your soul. Calliope, how true your harmonious poetic name suits you” He kissed the woman's hand, leaned toward her, and spoke softly. Bo could barely make out what the man, Quimby was saying. As he took a step forward to be in better earshot, his foot caught on his shoelace and he went tumbling forward.

He should've hit the back of the couch where Quimby and Calliope were seated, but instead he kept falling until he hit the ground. He crashed to the ground, catching himself on his elbows. As he winced in pain he looked around the room again, but this time the beautiful room had disappeared. Instead of the airy white room, he now gazed at a dim lit room with old furniture scattered about. There were no painted murals to resemble outdoors, instead there was a small wood stove, a four top table, and a little cupboard placed nearby. On the opposite side of the room was a large thick curtain that hung from wall to wall, and floor to ceiling. Bo noticed a light coming from behind the curtain, and curiosity got the better of him. He moved slowly toward the curtain, and pulled it away from the wall just enough to get a glimpse of what was behind it.

Five single beds were positioned in rows, a small candle on a table lit the space, and in the last bed a figure lay sleeping. Bo carefully released the curtain, and stepped backwards carefully, but suddenly he felt himself in the clutch of someone's grasp. He tried to scream, but a hand quickly covered his mouth. Then suddenly everything went dark.