Delicate Deception

Renders an otherwise SHY

Amphibian into a


Open Skies, her

Never-land playground…

Branwen Echoes

 I want to live in Enid Blyton’s “…Faraway Tree”, broad branches, stout sticks, highways, Plato’s Ideal Tree, low white clouds lingering between the leaves, a fog…

I want to live in Enid Blyton’s “…Faraway Tree”: neighborhood of sentient birds, animals, gnarled gnomes, evasive elves, flittering fairies.   I could stay there FOR GOOD.  I should!  I would’ve; but you’d  have misunderstood in all likelihood.

This obscured land of dreams, spells, has ENDURED, though.  I am reassured, CURED, to be sure!  Reality’s caput these days, anyway – MY DAYS — wind whispering the white crow with one black feather shuddering in her sleep.

I stood, breathing in, OAK [wood], laying my cheek against the tree’s heart, foundation, listening…