I'm so pissed. It took me a whole hour to compose my first blog and to no avail, it popped out of thin air. Sheesh. I don't wanna start from scratch. What you'll read here is nothing but honest to goodness stuff. However, it's up to you to decypher it. I'm fond of writing riddles. They're like jar full of jelly beans, they're not only sweet but they come in different colors! ahahha. They may get a bit difficult to comprehend and at first glance you'll come to believe that you have decyphered it but one thing's for certain...true meaning cannot be found at first glance.


The Weeping Willow
===============

It's been years...I've breathed air for years and yet I woke up this morning as though I have only begun living. Behold! The sun rising in the east. Behold it's radiant rays paint the sky with crimson hope. I hearken, alas! A song! Speaketh, is the song that of a lyre? I begin to sway and dance. Enticed by it's melody...I sway and I dance. The seasons passed, I dance and then sway. I was not alone. The trees, the ocean's rigorous waves, the breeze of the seasons...they stir, they sway, they dance to the lyre's melody. Upon my haltless dance I have gained my soul. And I have met creatures never similar to myself but whom I have shared the lyre's tune with...to dance and to sway with.

And hence came a day.
A pretty and rare butterfly came my way.
With wings radiating blue and yellow.
Each wing's flap so soft and mellow.

As she lands upon my shoulders I gladly say,
My lady, what have you to do this wonderful day?
With face flushed and crushed she replies,
Upon the fields of baby's breath I saw a horrible mice!

I say:
Speaketh what touble has he for thee?

She claims:
none if I may say sir...
He came and declared his love upon me,
Speaketh words I so despised yet too bluntly!
Oh ye who's words have come to make my soul stir!

I say unto her:
Do not weep, do not falter oh sweet butterfly.
The spring is young, and at it's bluest is the sky!

Off from my shoulder she flees joyously,
And I amaze at her radiance like joy is the very nature of her.
I knew with the seasons she shall sway and dance with me.
And upon this sturdy rock I stand with shoulders to her I offer.

And hence came a night.
Witches, ghouls and fireflies are aflight.
An orb of pulsating light came upon me,
At first glance I've mistaken for a firefly,
And at close gaze I begin to see,
She is not a firefly but a lovely fairy!

The fairy gently beseech me and sat upon my shoulder.
She whispered upon my ear her cyphered dreams.
And at the end of each story I've come to behold of her power.
To bring life to her visions with clarity as the sun beams.

Have you any dreams? She inquired.
I have no capability to dream, I replied.

She says:
I understand that trees have no dreams.
A pity to me this seems!
Therefore I shall bestow thee with a gift.
Into dreams shall you now adrift!

And she hands me a bowl full of incense.
And as it burned incredible visions commence!
And then the kind fairy flees.
Glides gracefully through the breeze.