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 Dragomir, prince of the realm and consort to the beautiful princess Etherias was summoned into the presence of her father, king Grandis. The king had heard of Dragomir’s long looks at his daughter and how they spent seemingly endless hours whiling the time away in pursuits that seemed to lead nowhere.Dragomir looked suitably chastened but this did not impress the king who gave Dragomir a fierce scowl from under his bushy eyebrows.He told Dragomir that he must go to an ancient island in the golden sea where the golden dragons lived and fly one back to his mother otherwise he would not be allowed to Etherias again, on pain of death.Dragomir agreed, looking humbled by the kings mission. The king, feeling a bit sorry for the young man took him aside and gave him three objects to help him on his quest.           The rope of help, the chalice of sustenance and the cloak of disappearance. The rope had the power to scale any heights and pull up anyone after it. The chalice was reputed to bestow great endurance on whosoever drank from it and the cloak was an escape device that would transport the wearer to a nearby location when it was worn.Dragomir accepted the three objects. The first thing he did was to put on the cloak. And instantly he found himself on the docks of a busy harbour. Nearby was a ship that looked ready to sail. He plucked the elbow of one of the nearby sailors.“Where is this ship sailing to?” he asked. The gruff burly sailor replied. “ To the golden sea, here - let go.” and strode off without a second look backwards.Dragomir quickly uncoiled the rope which snaked up the side of the ship dragging Dragomir after him.Once on the ship he stowed away in the hold and came out at night to fill the chalice with rain water which he drank.Thus he was able to withstand the long journey to the golden sea.Once they reached the golden sea they passed the island where the dragons lived. Dragomir put on the cloak once more and found himself on a deserted beach.In the distance were some rocky mountains. Up above the mountains he could see some golden shapes circling an active volcano.He filled up the chalice with water from a nearby stream and headed for the mountains.Once at the base of the mountains he put on the cloak once more and found himself in a large cave. It was empty, he settled himself down to wait.He dozed off and was woken by the sound of a large harrumphing in his ear.Looking down at him was a golden dragon who seemed to studying him closely.He greeted the dragon and explained his mission.The dragon was a bit doubtful whether he could fly such a long distance but Dragomir suggested he try drinking from the chalice. The dragon drank from the chalice and started glowing even more golden than before. He urged Dragomir to mount and they flew off into the bright blue sky.Once they came in sight of the palace the dragon let out a huge roar which rattled the tiles on the roof.His mother met him in the courtyard and a messenger was sent to king Grandis, who arrived with his daughter.Seeing the dragon he gave the hand of his daughter to Dragomir and they were married the next day.The dragon was fed a wild ox and was last seen flying over the horizon heading out to sea back to his island.Dragomir gave the three objects back to the king and later ruled the kingdom with his queen by his side. 

   It was a time of mystery – glowing fireflies fizzed through the night sky; dread dreaming like the rest of us.   All of us were walking, dream walking among the hills which flowed like waves of green underneath us; carrying us on the adventure of a lifetime.   Towards the sea and beyond they carried, flying fast and sure for that other shore, that bare eluded sight.   When we reached it what greeted us was a land of multicoloured hills calling to their own.   Our own hills settled into them and began adopting colours of their own.   Once they were resplendently garbed in colour they settled into stasis.   Then the hills opened up a tunnel into the earth which we followed like mad martyrs.   It took us to an underground city of fabled proportions.   Here we made our home as its denizens and lived forever under the magic hill as the magic people.   We developed talents of divining and scrying; created fabulous objects which recreated love and life for many ages to come.   We were revered far and wide as bestowers of eternal dreams that made one young and happy hereafter. We prospered, garnering the wealth of other lands and nations until our coffers were overflowing.   This ample supply of wealth should have satiated us but it did not, instead it paved the way for a darkness that appeared in our city as a dark chasm which swallowed up the people one by one until none were left.   Then that dark chasm swallowed the whole city and turned into a huge shadow beast with the fiercely glowing eyes of a monster. This monster bust out from underground and crossed the ocean, flying on huge wings and ravaged our once former homeland, despoiling it until there was not a life left in the land.   The armies of the other lands rallied to each others aid but it was too late. The shadow monster swallowed all things and became more shadow monsters.   They spread like a dark pall over the lands until not a country was free of them.   The magic hills felt the oppression of the shadow beasts and created a magic sword which could kill the deadly fiends.   The sword was given to the supreme commander of the armies and he wielded it with fearsome might.   He slew the cadaverous shadow monsters until they were no more.   As the land recovered from the depredations of the monsters the people again began to dream.   The magic hills spread out among the other hills and created sacred groves for the people to worship. The people tended the venerated groves and established a tree lore that recreated wood spirits.   These wood spirits helped to heal the land and the people. Their presence affecting a benevolent spiritual growth that bestowed a benevolent feeling of good fervour on the land and all peoples until the peace and harmony of the magic hills radiated like a lace quilt of light over all.

   Rosemary was seated by the window. The beam of light from the Sun passed her sight, illuminating motes of dust on its way down to the wooden floorboards.   She mused a moment, lost in reverie, painting an image with colours in her mind.   The image and the light became one in her mind and the ray of sunlight became a conduit highway for her dream images.   They lived and breathed in it, flowing and flying through it to other planets and other dreamers, linked by the dreamlight.   Miniature castles and enchanted forests lived together in fabled lands replete with flying unicorns and flaming dragons.   She imagined her dreams travelling to meet other dreamers and the dreams of those dreamers travelling across the universe to greet her with their fantasy.   Weren’t those motes of colour the beginning of new worlds flying through the dreamlight to land on her floorboards and give her the vision of a new day?

   Once upon a time in ages past there lived a king – Omrion by name who ruled a land fair and wise – the land of Gondalon. It was his want to wander in his royal rose gardens and admire the fine rose blossoms whose delicate hues entranced the king.

   His favorites were the deep dark red roses which had a rare majesty of their own.

   They were in high demand by the queen and the princesses who adored them as gifts. The queen Mantria and her two daughters Allicia and Begonia were also enamored of the rose garden. It exerted a mesmerizing spell on the royal family who spent much time together wandering down the aisles of the rose beds.

   They were so enamored of their roses that they commissioned many works of art to adorn the palace. On every wall there was a picture of a rose and in every alcove a rose statuette could be found.

   Filigree metal replicas of roses could be found in auspicious places. The currency of the kingdom was embossed with a rose and the coat of arms and insignia was the emblem of a rose.

   There were roses everywhere.

   One day a charming young man appeared before the king and queen with the gift of an enchanted rose. He bequeathed it to the king and queen, promising that it would make all the other roses more beautiful.

   Indeed it was a fine specimen and they planted it in a place of prominence in the royal rose beds.

   Sure enough the Enchanted Rose caused the other roses to swell with a dark ripeness that made them extraordinarily attractive. But what they didn’t know was that the roots of the roses were swelling underneath the ground and spreading throughout the land. The roots became so large that they sucked up all the water and huge rose bushes sprouted everywhere. They choked the kingdom and the people moved away in terror of the poisoned thorns of the enormous rose trees.

   The king and his family were left alone in the palace as they didn’t want to leave their beloved roses.

   Soon the giant rose trees surrounded the palace and it was impossible for them to leave. They fell into a deathly slumber.

   Many years passed and stories of the sleeping royal family travelled over the seas and brought a young man back with them who had hopes of freeing the sleeping family.

   For many days he hacked his way through the large rosebushes until he reached the palace where the king and queen and their daughters slept.

   Try as he may he could not rouse the royal family and despondently walked through the royal rose bed where the enchanted rose grew.

   Seeing it he thought:

   I shall take it with me as a reminder of my failed quest.

   And so thinking he slashed the bloom from its bush with his sword.

   He placed the bloom on the in his belt and as he was preparing to leave he cast one last look towards the royal family in their chairs.

   They were stirring. The cutting of the enchanted rose form its bush had broken the spell and woken the royal family.

   They crowded around their rescuer and managed to escape with him.

   Later they returned when the roses had died and withered and reclaimed their kingdom.

   The young man had fallen in love with one of the princesses and they wed in the rose garden.

   The enchanted rose remained the same forever.

Dream Tears

The brilliantine opalescence

Of a dream tear

Heralds the dawn of a new year

This cacophony of dream tears

Falls like dreaming years

Of an eviserating dawn

Where the carollean sky

To carolling songs

Of dream birds

Captured in stasis

Inside dream tears

Suddenly resound in song

Coming alive from within

Mulitcoloured dream tears

Contain the life

Of the first bird

And all the years

That lead to the birth

Of a dream within a dream

And all that lies inbetween

Two eyes that weep

Dream Tears

   Gran was walking down the street, walking stick prodding forward along the pavement. The sky was steel gray and Gran was dressed to match with black leather shoes with golden buckles and beige stockings. A hair full of wispy white curls nodded to itself humming at the sky which didn't seem to notice.

She paused in front of a newspaper that was spread out on a bench.

The page read:

Antique sale in Howich Road

That wasn't far she thought. I can get there and back before lunch. She quickened her pace and disappeared around a curve in the road.

An hour passed and she came back around that curve carrying a largish cube.

She seemed pleased and entered her house at the end of the street.

An hour passed until it was time for Gran to visit her friend down the street.

But instead of Gran out came a little girl about the age of eight.

She skipped along the pavement carrying the magic cube she had carried into her house before and went to visit her friend.

The same thing happened.

Out of the house came two little girls and together they skipped down the street to another house.

Soon there were three little girls running about, then four.

The happening spread all over the country and soon there was not an old person to be found on the whole planet.

The children lived on the planet happily ever after.

The Magic Poem

In Time

The metronome beats

Never missing

The instant

In time

The magic poem speaks

Never missing

The innocence

Of magic words

That descent

Like velvet rain

Over the angelic godhead

Of a newborn child

Who keeps the pleasant memory

Of God's poem

For later years

   Celephon digressed, his mind vacant and a vapid smile crossed his face in self aggrandizement. There was time for pomposity later he mused as time slowed and he pondered the inaccessibility of his most important thoughts.

   He was a clergyman, born and bred to serve God and somehow God had made it possible for him to do just that; for he had in his possession a magic diary that told him exactly what God would tell him to do.

   Every so often a new entry would appear as if by magic and Celephon would follow this special instruction as if it had been ordained by God himself.

   His life was perfect. All that remained was a little prestidigitation and he could take his diary with him as he ministered to his flock of eager parishioners.

   As long as he had God's word at hand he could do only good and his blessings would multiply and define divinity for all and sundry.

I had been in worse situations. The grimness of the hunter was particularly overpowering though.

“Are you going to pick your nose with that knife or use it for something useful? It looks like it could do with a clean. So do you. Your breath stinks. Come another step closer and I will unleash the power of the Night on you.”

He paused.

“The power of the night.” he reiterated “The power of the darkness within. That, I would like to see.”

The blade glinted in the moonlight and he moved forwards again menacingly, knife held low to the ground ready to be used on me.

“I wish it hadn't come to this.”

She took out the amulet her lover had given her and depressed the blood red stone in its center. Dark shapes began materializing in the air above her – Vampire Hawks. They solidified and shrieked insanely as they ripped the hunter to shreds. Sharp beaks and claws tearing the flesh from his very bones until he lay a bloodied mess on the ground.

He lifted a hand imploringly towards her, shuddered and then fell face down on the ground and didn't get up.

She depressed the bloodstone again and the vampire hawks dematerialized.

She twirled on her heals and walked around the pulpy mess on the floor.

“Next time don't say I didn't warn you”

She left the log cabin and walked into the dark forest following a path back to her lover.

As the night enveloped her and she disappeared into it she felt the link she shared with her lover strengthen as she felt his presence within her mind say:

“I am coming. Beware the Night lords for they follow you”

She looked around at the dark forest.

She imagined the shadows were people moving amongst the trees and the velvet touch of ecstasy and fear energized her into action. She lengthened her stride.

Swift and sure she could feel the presence of her one true love coming over the distance, impossibly fast.

There were people in the shadows, the Night lords and they were also coming.

The two reached towards her, the Night lords closed around her and then her lover rent the Night of its power, dispersing its malevolence into the furthest reaches of neverwhere where it could not reach her again.

They clasped each other in a fierce embrace.

“My love” she whispered fiercely in his ear “What took you so long?”

He looked impossibly beautiful in the pale moonlight, his preternaturally young face smooth and vibrant with the power of his heritage – the Vampire.

The daubings of the master painter digressed to the point of infinity and beyond.

Amazing, he mused, my picture resembles a swift duck in flight. Scouring the land, flying with ease. Below there is a patchwork quilt of fields, farmers' houses dot the land and the duck is in rapid flight.

Oh what a joy, what mastery to see the fluidity of flight as revealed by so superb a specimen as this swift duck.

Lo and behold the mastery it took to execute the paradigm of perfection contained in this work.

The Swift Duck it shall be named and rightly so.