Light.
#beginningline. #nightdwellers. The moon lit up the cobbles,. As the stars lit and dazzled the sky,. Lanterns rise and illuminate,. The faeries as they fly,. Little orbs of glowing light emerge,.
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#beginningline. #nightdwellers. The moon lit up the cobbles,. As the stars lit and dazzled the sky,. Lanterns rise and illuminate,. The faeries as they fly,. Little orbs of glowing light emerge,.
I feet the need to write today Of what people used to say Advice given in riddles and rhyme Quotes and Phases for each occasion Wise words to start would always be....
#sundayrepost A wizened old man stands tall and proud His beard long and straggly and slightly sad His eyes speak of things best not said out loud For he's as old as the hills and nearly as...
The Hollow Tree A shadow in my dreams, since I was a boy, haunting me with tales of trolls , and witches, goblin kings, ghosts, and tiny, hidden thieves trying to steal the fingers of little boys who...
Snow Hawk, Sparrow Hawk, Chasing through the trees, Hunting mice, Racing moles, If only I could be...
#acrostic. Lavondyss, ancient forests come. Alive in Holdstocks masterpiece. Vast imagination,. Old myths inspiral Tallis Keaton,. Norse legends in hollowings,. Days lost in time in other worlds, I,.
Hello Mr Magpie, Sitting pretty up there, There's people sad because of you, But you seem not to care.
One night I slept beside a tree And dreamt of running, being free A man appeared small and dainty, dressed in colours O so bold High magic sparkling, did unfold, Soft music touched my very soul I...
It was a lovely summers day When he took his stick and walked To the sleepy little hamlet Of which the locals talked He strolled and took the sights No signage could he see It should only be mile How...
Douglas' story was rather unnerving, it scared me, and I wasn't easily scared. "Have you ever walked on the moor at night?" "No," I replied, trembling slightly.
My friend at work has a tradition on New Year's Eve that it's at five to midnight he gets into his car and drives around for twenty minutes or so and this he believes is good luck for him as he wants...
Introduction: It is a little know fact that on the 15th day in July, females of a certain species of spider lay their eggs.
They hear the sirens call, A simple melody, Sang eerily, They hear the sirens call, They see them silhouetted, Webbed feet and hands, Head and shoulders above land, They see them silhouetted, The...
#adventchallenge Mr. Claus, A jolly big fellow, A beard of white, His heart-so mellow. Wears a red coat, The blackest of boots, A buckled belt, Happiness he salutes.
Once upon a time There was a pretty young girl Whose wore a hood of deepest red Like a rose petal, unfurled Or like blood, that richest red Bright against her ivory face She was a rose blessed with...
I saw the travellers yester noon. Hugging the valleys; an air of gloom. These travellers of mist and moor Gently scratch the tight closed door.
A wizened old man stands tall and proud His beard long and straggly and slightly sad His eyes speak of things best not said out loud For he's as old as the hills and nearly as proud His breath feels...
Once upon a time there lived a girl by the name of Origina , she lived with her patents and her grandfather in a small house in village called Dippley in England , Her father was a well respected...
Trees of dark black gnarled old wood. Ancient spirits, voices misunderstood. The forests sways and creaks with the wind. That whistles down from deep in the glen. It comes from the north.
#adventchallenge Mistletoe was said to be the sacred plant of Frigga, the goddess of love. When her son, Balder, dreamed of his death, Frigga rushed about seeking promises that her son would not die.
They say he never really went away Just found a hidden place to stay For years he only came out at night To steal food and cause the odd fright Banished from the village for looking to good The...
Turned when she was seven, She knew naught but death and bones, Brought up by nothing but the road, A road of gravelled stones.
There are no mushroom circles where I reside No faries skip and dance inside But out on the fells cloaked in heather and scree as rucked and battered as the hills is an old oak tree.
With a wave of his fingers And a shake of his toes The ice and the frost At his will do they grow. He sways and he swings For the ice has a knack He is Mr. Frost But we know him as Jack.