(Part I and Part II)

Fourteen years before this war betrayed
For not and nothing,
Fey’s town near drowned in a cockroach raid,
A seething insect sea that preyed
On any but the strong.

But roving rats heard cries and came,
Heroes are never far.
They sent every roach away in shame,
Grateful Fey swore an oath that gave them claim
(Though she was but five) to her.

War came for Fey and for them all,
Lighting the way with the darkest glimmer.
The last one standing’s just the last to fall,
With war the only winner.

Drawn by Thora

My favorite word is no.
It’s the most useful of the lot.
“Won’t you share your toys?” “No.”
“Help your brother. Clean that spot.
Careful with that!” “No. No. And no.”
“Would you please bathe!?” “OK. – Not!”
Yes just seems wrong, no?
“Want some of these cookies I bought?”

Sometimes you even have to say no to no.

(Here is Part I)

Their ending began when greed took hold,
Once in it won’t slip off.
A crown was made of cold flame and cruel gold,
But who would rule?  Let their souls be sold
For the price of never enough.

Their greed it grew as greed will do,
They piled hurt on hurts.
The rats called Fey and she came true,
Giving her a most terrible view
As hate howled loud in hearts.

War came for Fey and for them all,
Lighting the way with the darkest glimmer.
The last one standing’s just the last to fall,
With war the only winner.

Kawsay met Impossible once.
They had a lengthy chat.
Imp said, “This is this and that is that.”
But Kawsay couldn’t agree:
“I’ve known many thats that were this
And even a this that was that, you see.
All things go back and forth.
Anything can change.
Rock is water.
Normal is strange.
Or could be, if it tries.
Know this and you won’t be surprised
When you see a pig that flies.
And why not?
What pig doesn’t want to soar?
What thought can’t bite?
What rose won’t roar?
Even the crowded get lonely.
Even dragons want more.
Is does not mean only.”

Illustrated by Fue

Fey fought for the rats in the Furball War,
In that war she slew herself.
From the Frowning Hills to the Star Dust Shore,
The rats, bats, mice, and the gray cats four,
Fought and fell in filth.

They made their home into a madman land,
Replacing peace with pain.
Fey’s heart revolted but she owed her hand
To the rat prince Fink and his command
Was fan and fly into the flame.

War came for Fey and for them all,
Lighting the way with the darkest glimmer.
The last one standing’s just the last to fall,
With war the only winner.

There’s a monkey in my mouth
And a crab up in my brain.
The monkey’s always mouthing off
And the crab makes me seem insane.

My finger worms are wigging out.
The belly geese are in an uproar.
All my gut lizards are oddly calm
And wondering what’s the fuss for.

The toad stowed in my nose
Got a whiff of my firefly eyes.
Now he sounds his hungry croak
So they’ll look alive, those firefleyes.

The bear cub in my chest awoke,
I can hear her growl.
My many critters creep about,
My pals are on the prowl.

I’m not me.
I’m a one-kid zoo.
Look at you!
You’re a mess!
You must be one too.

You?  You’re the best.
And me?  Well I’m me.
Imagine what you
And I could be as we!

The Queen and King.
Grandest of Poobahs.
We are perfection.
We know no flaws.

Every thought a hope.
Every now a chance.
Every moment free.
No don’ts.  No can’ts.

Who could stop us?
We will never end.
Nothing can match what
You find in a friend.

Heart of stars, eyes of night,
You know the hidden things
That dare not cross our sight.
Tell us, teach us,
Whisper to us secrets
That thrive outside the light.

Creatures that twist and turn
In the feathered fields
As the darkest hours burn.
They know us well,
But our knowledge fails –
We want and wish to learn.

Then listen!  We begin –
Not at your feet you’ll find
A grub with copper skin.
It’s called a spuh
And feeds upon the
Toothy daisy lion.

The dancing turnips tend
The beastly butterbees
That blend the western wind.
And to your right you’ll
Never see the frogbull,
Who’ll gladly eat a friend.

Look quick and you’ll just miss
The twisting tweedle pile
And twisted, tortured bliss.
You’re lucky you can’t see
Such things or you’d join me
In this endless abyss.

Thanks for teaching the foul.
Should you need us just
Loose your hooty howl.
We’ll always listen.
Our hearing’s never done,
Dear twilight owl.

Drawn by Kirsten

Few things can match the Grand Crayon Safari
In splendor, thrill and difficulty.
Few folks know the world’s shades as well as she,
The great color hunter, Mackles McGee.

Her first catch came on the day she was born.
She stared straight into the eye of a storm.
Its scared gaze broke and its Gray was torn
From heavy clouds laying low and worn.

As a child she worked real hard,
To see the colors as they really are.
Every shard she caught she jarred,
Hunting every hue, however marred.

Mackles went where every glimmer sent her.
She pulled Green out of deepest winter,
Saw through the sun to its gooey Blue center,
Snatched Purple from flames, splinter by splinter.

Very few people see true color.
They look at one thing but see another.

McGee has many more mysteries.
Why do White and White wander as they please,
Worming their way into all she sees?
How are Rainbows only seen not seized?
Where’s Black?  Everyone knows and disagrees.

She lives and learns but life’s a tease.
Now off she goes into the Golden trees.

With all the world a maze,
Which way do you go?
Lost or on your way,
However would you know?

There are dead ends and traps and
Only crooked paths to take.
Every step is a must
And may be a mistake.

You walk in many circles.
There’s a turn for every turn.
Is this the way of ways?
You can only hope to learn.