A fair maiden
Left her heaven,
Where every hopeful
Dream was made in.

Her toes touched Sea,
Waves walked her in,
Begging that she
Never leave them.
Tentacles rose up
And grabbed,
But Earth sank Sea
As up it stabbed
Into new land
And clasped her hand
With icy diamond
And one demand:
“EVERY STONE THAT IS IS YOURS
BUT HERE FOREVER STAND.”
Night awoke in lightning
As stars streaked toward the ground,
Blinding even ancient trees
With a constellation crown.

And she said, “Stop.”

They had to heed the call.

“All you powers push and pull,
I am not here to join you all,”
And then sunk into darkest halls,
Walking through the world’s last wall,
Finding nightmares
In mid-fall,
Reaching for the nightmared,
There to help and hold.

“It’s okay.
You are safe.
I’ll be with you
Till you wake.
Then you’ll go,
But have faith,
For I am Love
In different shape.”

The secret to taller?
Step up to the altar.
I have the great honor
To serve as your scholar.

Stretching?  Why bother?
They say no more water,
Drink milk by the saucer,
Down mountains of cobbler,
You must believe harder!
Pray!  Yes!  And holler!

They’re naught but big talkers,
They’ve nothing to offer,
Those gibbering toddlers.
They’re goners as solvers.

My cure’s not a dollar.

The best way to be taller
Is find someone smaller.

Why, you’re just a bit shorter.
Let me make you an offer.

“It doesn’t matter!
Nobody cares!”
I shouted aloud to none but the air.
And it echoed back the very same swear,
Adding its own snarkified flair:
“Nobody matters!
It doesn’t care!”
Continuing on with more info to share:

“It’s easy to blare
Or say a quick prayer,

But if you want your
Circle squared,

To get your here
To a better there,

Don’t ask to be,
Just be the mayor.

You need someone
To get somewhere.
And if it’s two?
Be a pair!
And if it’s three?
Be your spare!

Doing is rare,
Don’t be scared.
You’ve built yourself
A very nice snare.

Do or don’t care.
Fair or unfair.
Shout or just stare.

That’s what doesn’t matter.

Find your derring-do
For you must do and dare.”

I can’t leave this puddle.
Ever since it rained
No matter how I struggle
I’ve been stuck in muck befuddled.

This puddle prison puzzle
Has got me awful ruffled.
The toughest type of trouble
Is muzzlingly subtle.

Interesting though…
Not to get too sappy,
This cold and wet seems… happy.

I think…
I think…
I’m mud!
I am this muddy muddle!
I don’t want to leave this puddle.

Warbling Chuchu
Enormous and has no voice.  Once it becomes fully mature it hunts down and eats a train engine.  Is then able to bellow as it pleases.

Illustration by Marek Jansen whose books and other work can be found here.

Sand Crasher
Burrows into sand in order to trip people.  Then goes through their pockets looking for coins and other shiny things to decorate their nests.  Vain and dangerous.  Do not attempt to defend shiny things.

Illustration by Marek Jansen whose books and other work can be found here.

Incomplete Oriole
Just claws and a beak.  Modern science has been unable to explain its existence.

Blur Jay
Prefers to perch on one’s nose.  Can cause cross-eye syndrome.  Has never been seen clearly.

Scrumptious Finch
Has a very buttery flavor.  Goes great on toast.

Carpecker
Pecks holes in cars.  Seems to do so out of curiosity.  Enjoys viewing the activities of the people inside.

Rogbogobgor
Has a large, black beak that burns to the touch.  Is more scaly than feathered.  Eats nine lions a day.  Is rumored to spout fire and witticisms.  Might be a dragon.

Giver Goshawk
Enjoys leaving gifts for people.  Has yet to deliver anything useful.  Near extinction.  Would not be missed.

Drawn by Sam.

There was a young lad on a bridge,
Above a great pool of porridge;
He jumped off the side,
And opened up wide,
But the porridge ate him up like fudge.

There was an old lady of Memphis,
Who spoke with a spit and a hiss;
“Hok pita patoo!
Sass sis sauce sue!”
That garbled old lady of Memphis.

There is a young person whose eyes,
Leak oil whenever she cries;
If your car breaks down,
Give her a stern frown,
And she’ll fix you right up with those eyes.

Every continent has claims on claims,
Where can you go to break the chain
Of lamely flaming same?

You must go off the map.

Otherwise, you’ll live in traps.

Here’s one way to break the bars –
The furthest far from where you are –
If you can make it to the stars…
But that may be the hardest hard.

Instead, look to the sea.
Sink below the deep,
Where uncounted unknowns sleep,
There you claim your keep.

Now,
As for how to run a nation…
I guess…
Hard work and patience?
Maybe mix love and luck
And trust in that creation.

A bug crawled out of me.
He squeaked and shouted he
Proudly spouted doubtery
With his great “NO” decree:

“No.” and “No!” and “NO!”
“Yes, NO.” and “No! No! No!”

He ran with this ranting chant
On his “not now nor ever” slant,
Roaring like an elephant.

Was it a Can’t Ant?
“No!”
It was an Ain’t!

The thing about an Ain’t,
It may well be your saint.
When you hear it “NO!”
You know right where to go.

Let him crawl out again.
Tell him to get his friends.
Where they tell you “It’s the end!”
Stroll straight through with winning grin.

Drawn by Walsh G.

One of them doesn’t exist
But none of them knows which.
The three may be curse-kissed
But they see themselves as rich
And they found their way to bliss.

They don’t fight against evil,
And don’t do well with people,
But persons they adore
And will wage a peace or war
For you – oh yes – and more.

They always nod to Death
And even toast his health.
Impossible just winks
As she cheers on their hijinks.
Danger taunts but does not daunt.

They are Leif and Kreke and Lynx
And are called the Astrohaunts.

Just my luck.
Lipstick did as advertised
And now my lips are stuck.