Friday, 22 February 2008

Talented friends

It's so lovely to have so many talented friends on my Bebo site. I think we are all enjoying the communication between our sites. I spent most of the day setting up a quiz there today Novels & Novelists instead of slashing words off my novel which is still too long to be publishable. I'll get back to the novel tonight. I hope there will be tons of people who take the quiz. I think it might be too hard but it is mutli choice and the last two questions are a bit of a cheek. If people don't know the answers to those it won't count. But if they do, I'll be their friend for life.

Thank you to Rosalie and Terry for the lovely reviews and the 5 stars which was quite a thrill on my Bebo Book site and to Anne and Anita for there special comments, today.

Goodreads is another great place for forming like-minded friends. I'm thrilled Sheryl joined. I'm waiting to see what books she chooses to add to her shelf.

Saturday, 2 February 2008

The Legend of the Unicorn



Bubbles in a babbling brook burst over pebbles of glass
White chiffon swirls `round lissom limbs on a bank of verdant grass.
Drawn by mysterious force she comes to the woods in the dewy air,
She gathers bluebells and she weaves a garland for her hair.
Approaching hooves her joy completes, the proud steed shakes his head,
The strong, white body, flushed of face, falls down before her... dead.

A hush befalls the stricken woods, its breath suspended now,
Her violent efforts can’t dislodge the arrow from his brow.
“Breathe Life! I beg all woodland nymphs, the fairies and the sprite!
Reverse the treachery of man, great Artemis of night.”
She flings her arms around the beast; her crystal tears flow free.
Apollo and his sister smile, they can’t resist her plea.

The throbbing of a loving heart and warmth from the rising sun,
Blue flowers on a bloodstained mane, the miracle has begun.
Was it but a play of light, with the breaking of the dawn?
Or did the great colt quiver? No arrow now, just glistening horn.
“Ah, sweet victory,” the maiden cries, “no man can poison thee.
Unique within the magic world forever you’ll roam free.”

Prancing, dancing, a lyre enhancing the lilting woodland song,
The gentle steed and maiden sigh, assured they both belong
Where the natural and the mystic realms merge in the dewy air,
Where bubbles burst in crystal tears and great gods answer prayer.
So, in the morn, before the dawn, when a babbling brook she hears
She’ll find herself in Bluebell Woods where the unicorn appears.