Archive for romance

The Story of the Green Man and his White Lady

Posted in Hestia's Hearth, It's In The Cards, My Inspirations, Soul Food Cafe Fun, Tarot Journey, You can do these! with tags , , , , , , , on 13/05/2010 by gwenguin1

Once upon a time, in a small kingdom by the edge of a wide, sweet sea there lived a King and Queen who reigned happily over their people.  There was but one wee grey cloud in sll the kingdom…  

 

The King and Queen were only able to have one child…


 The Lady Anemone Fionn, a daughter they deeply adored, for all that she was a solemn, chubby child who preferred the company of books and commoners to days spent gossiping in the court.   Since she was not the prettiest of children and did not have the sprightly temperament of many princesses, they despaired of her ever being happily wed.

 

 So she was allowed to wander among the commoners in sparrow-brown garb, where she learned about love and kindness, as well as tolerance in the huts and shops of the capital city.   As she began to grow older, she accepted the training she would need to be their heir without complaint or rebellion.  She wished to serve her country with the best she could be.

 

 

It was early in her training that the first letter from the Green Man came to them, aboard a gaily-painted ship, with sails of exotic silks.  One of the letters was given up to the King and Queen, requesting their daughter’s hand in marriage when she came of age.

 

 The other letter was delivered to the young Lady; from that day on she kept all of the Green Man’s letters in a box of delicate silver filigree.  She wore the key to the box around her neck on a plain silvery chain.

 

“Anemone Fionn, Sweet lady of the Beaches, you hold my heart in your gentle hands.  My Spirit sings at the merest thought of you, and my heart beats in tune with thine.  When the day comes that all see the beauty I do I shall claim you as my beloved bride.”

 

 His words had lost no power since they had been given to her by a man from the Green Man’s country when she had not yet blossomed into womanhood.
 
 

When the arrogant young princelings would laugh at her face and form she would reread them and find much comfort in the words he had written only for her.

 

 When no nearby princes or kings asked for her hand, she begged her parents to accept the Green Man’s pledge, and betroth her to the man who had comforted her, and sparked her mind to discover more about the world than any other Princess deigned to pretend to know.

 

And so it came to pass, after many long years that the Green Man wrote to the Lady and told her.  “I will be with you in truth with the coming of summer my sweet Lady Anemone.”

 

Faioléan the seagull perched close to the sorrowful lady and spoke in his skree-ing language.  “Weep not my lady fair.  The Uaine Fear, comes to claim thee, sailing across the wide green seas.”

 

 

The lady did return, “O Faioléan tell me true, does he love this plain face of mine?”

 

 

“Fear not fair Lady Anemone, the Uaine Fear comes for you, seeking yon beauty across the wide, green seas

 

 

The Seagull hopped close enough for the Lady to smell the sea and fish on his feathers, his bright eye locked with hers.

 

 

“Fear not dear Lady, for the Uaine Fear cometh to you, seeking your beauty and pure spirit.”

 

 

So the lady returned day after day, waiting by the ocean for this secret lover who sought her.

 

 

Her pale cheeks were given a golden glow by the sun’s light, and the gentle, salt air of the ocean soothed her breathing so much so that she even stopped coughing.

 

 

The dull brown hair that had been so lifeless and limp began to have secret tints of gold in its curls.

 

 

The longer she remained by the sea, and forsook the rich food and many sweets in the castle the slimmer her limbs became, and her skin became smooth and honeyed.

 

 Every day the same gull was at her side, reassuring her of the Green Man’s advance across the wide, sweet sea.
 
 

Every day, the sailors on the docks, calling to her how pretty she was becoming, greeted the Lady and she would thank them prettily for their kind words.

 

 

Every night as she lay in her soft, fluffy bed the Green Man would send nightingales to sing her to sleep.  In their sweet voices she heard the words the Green Man had written to her all those years ago.

 

 

One summer day, years ago, the Green Man gifted her with vibrant silks to clothe herself with.  They had delicate laces, golden and silver buttons, the fur of exotic animals, and rare jewels to sew to the clothes with Thread-of-Gold.

 

Every season the Lady would take them out and ponder dresses from them, and them put them away, until she would have a fairer form to wear them upon.

 

 

One day as she dressed in another drab gown, that now hung off her like sails on a windless sea, her ladies-in-waiting all conspired to measure her for a new gown. 

 

While the Lady waited at the shore for the Green Man, the ladies in waiting made her a new gown, from a deep peacock blue silk, trimmed with Peacock’s feathers and Thread-of-Silver, and many, many tiny pearls crusting the bodice.
 

When the lady returned that evening, and began to ready herself for dinner her ladies-in-waiting slipped the blue gown over her head, and styled her hair to show off the golden dusting on the soft curls.

 

 The Lady looked in her polished silver mirror, and stared.  Surely this lovely creature brushed in gold dust couldn’t be her!!   

From whence had come the womanly curves, and kissable freckles?

 

 

The same princes and Kings who had jested at her expense gathered about her, each vying for her full attention.

 

 

She laughed and treated them with tolerance, but none of them turned her head from the Green Man, who had sought her hand when no others would.

 

 

Night after night, she fended off a parade of handsome Princes and Kings.  Day after day her ladies fashioned another gown, trying to outdo the previous one in beauty and uniqueness.

 

 

Day after day she watched the seas for some sign of the green Man’s bright sails on the horizon.

 

 

At last there was only white silk that seemed to hide all other colours in its shadows left in her case of fabrics.

 

 

She took it out and caressed it, delighting in the way it slid through her fingers.  “I wish to save this gown for when my future husband, the Green Man, arrives.  And this is how I want it to look.”

 

 

And so it was that her ladies fashioned a gown to be the envy of every highborn woman in every country.

 

 

It was of clean and simple lines, and a bodice set with squares of abalone, mother-of-pearl, and lapis lazuli set in it like a necklace.  With Thread-of-Silver, they embroidered circles of ivy, mistletoe sprigs, holly, and white roses along the bottom of the gown.

 

 

The lady went to the Royal Jeweller and asked him to make her a discrete coronet.  A silver band to sit among her curls, engraved with flowers, and set with magical stones that continued in the silver netting that fell to the ground.

 

 

The lady tried it on, and she was well pleased and thanked her ladies-in-waiting with generous gifts and sweet words of gratitude.

 

 

And so, not long after, she spied a black spot on the horizon.  Her heart beat so she could barely breathe, and she ran home, calling for her ladies in waiting as soon as she had seen the bright colours of the Green Man’s sails.

 

 

Once she was dressed in her white gown and she had caught her breath she returned to the docks to await the Green Man.

 

 

At long last, the Green Man’s fleet filled the harbour, their sails were each of a different pattern of silk, and they lay at anchor peacefully.

 

 

With all due ceremony, and great pomp, the Green Man walked from his ship, across the plank, and onto the dock, where the Lady awaited him with bright eyes and glowing smile.

 

 

She could see nothing of his face behind a cunningly carved emerald mask.  At last they stood face to face, and still he held up the mask.

 

 “

My Dear Lady of the Blue Harbour.  Will you still wed me?”

 

 

The Lady answered happily. “I have awaited this day forever and a day, yes, I will wed you.”

 

 

At last the Green Man took down his mask, showing everyone an ugly, twisted old man’s face with spindly legs and potbelly.

 

 

“One last time I would ask thee.  Wilt thou marry me as I am?”

 

 

“I will marry thee, whether thou art handsome or no.  You have always treated me with gentleness and respect, and have gifted me with loveliness and comfort.  Yes, I will gladly call you husband, and follow wherever thou wilt go.”  The Lady knelt in her white raiment and kissed the wrinkled hand tenderly.

 

 

The Green Man threw back his cape and dashed the mask to pieces on the dock’s planks.  “And so our love will be fulfilled.!!”

 

 

In a flash of golden light he stood tall, becoming a young and very handsome prince, medals at his breast and a golden crown covered in rare jewels sat amongst his golden brown curls.  His sea green eyes were afire with love for the Lady.

 

“When I was young a Sorceress cursed my Kingdom and me.  Neither would know a happy day, or prosperity until I would be accepted by a Lady who did not recoil at the ugliness she set upon me.”

 

 

And so it was that the Green Prince and his White Lady were married and travelled to his Kingdom on the other side of the deep, sweet sea, where they lived happily ever after, and made sure that the people of their kingdoms would know happiness as well.

 

 

Again, what has this to do with out Tarot Journey?  This surely is The Lovers of the Major Arcana.  The choice between love and lust, a true connexion, and a passing fling.

  

 

The Lovers

"Love has a thousand feathers."

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The Poet Awakens Again

Posted in Everday Living, My Inspirations, Poetry with tags , , on 19/08/2009 by gwenguin1

In my heart I love writing prose far more than poetry, yet so many people whose opinions I respect have told me that I am ‘good’ at poetry (whatever that means, lol).  So, I keep on writing poems,  even though I think that they are nothing to write home about.  Anywhoodlz, here is my latest poem, inspired by an incredibly sweet dream that remained clear and viable long after I had awakened.

 

WAKING DREAMS

I went to sleep, as I always do,

Alone and lonely,

Wishing to be a lover.

Loved and loving,

No longer a solitary heart.

 

Then I began to dream,

So clear and sweet,

I wanted to sleep forever.

You and I, as one,

Bathed in luxury, and joy.

 

As lovers we were

Inexpressibly matched.

The least touch was

Starlight and Heaven,

Magic of the highest form.

 

We were at once

Scarlett and Rhett,

Arthur and Guinevere,

Adam and Eve, and

You and I.

 

Whether we were met

By Royalty in Castles;

Holy Men atop Mountains,

Or the Common Man

In the crowded streets.

 

We were met with

Honour and love;

Everywhere we went

We were respected

And bathed by our love.

 

Once I was wrapped in

Green velvet gown;

Like the Lady of

Welcome Summer

And the return of Plenty.

 

The we were clad like

Kings of the Far East in

Rare Silks and Jewellery.

Perfumed by musks and

Sweet Sandalwood.

 

We were gowned in nothing,

Naked and unashamed,

Innocent and innocence.

No shame of our

God-given forms.

 

The in we rode the range,

Jeans and chambray.

Fine steeds and

Soaring hawk as

Our procession.

 

The we were blessed

No longer two, but

Planning for three.

Surprised by two

Sons so like their sire.

 

Who would wish to

Waken from this glory?

To worry about trifles

And be inundated with

Childish trivialities.

 

So now I sit, alone,

And more lonely

Than I was, carrying

The knowledge that

I had just dreamed.

And Crabby-Paws Speaks

Posted in Blogging Memes, Poetry, Soul Food Cafe Fun with tags , , , , , on 08/06/2009 by gwenguin1

*peering blearily out from under the dark cycles of my life*

I am actually on my way back to the world from the unavoidable shadows that come with wisdom.  I am beginning to feel good, solid ideas rising from my depths, and am already working on one of them.

 

The last day that was lit for me, I wrote a six-word romance of my own:

 

6-Word Romance

12-05-2009

 

“Yes, I heard what you said.”

She looked up from her keyboard,

Rolling her eyes at the screen.

“You know I will get it.

I always get what I want.”

“With everyone else, do you mean that?”

They locked eyes in their minds.

“Always, with everyone.” She spoke gently,

But her words were strong steel.

“Do you think you are able?”

He always challenged her, on everything.

“Of course I am Dear One.”

Mentally determining to accept his challenges.

“You just can’t make this happen.”

“Look at what I’ve done already.”

Her words should have warned him.

But he had always underestimated her.
”You stayed there, isn’t that true?”

“Ahhh, but you knew I would.”

“In truth?  I counted on it.”

They laughed at the same time.

The miles between them meant nothing

Their friendship flew fast on the wind.

 

                                      ã 2009 Gwen M Myers

 

Thank you so much for your patience and tolerance, My Family of Creativity, Love, and Steel.  Please know that you are never far from mmy thopughts and heart, even when I wander off down a sidetrack.

 

Like the Lone Wolf that is my Spirit-Guide, I wander away from the pack and bring new things back, and share them with my ‘Pack’, which is blessed to have members of Soul Food Cafe in it.

 

This time my find is  book called “Hunab Ku- 77 Sacred Symbols for Balancing Body and Spirit” by Karen Speerstra and Joel Speerstra, it his lit a fire under my metaphorical hieney and begged me to share what it in these pages.  I’ll share the first Archetype in a second post.

The Portal In My Front Yard- Pt. II

Posted in Soul Food Cafe Fun, The 3rd Enchanteur Journey with tags , , , , , , , on 31/07/2008 by gwenguin1

The Portal In My Front Yard- Pt. II

 

As we sat over dinner, the conversation fell to everyday things; when to hunt, was the stream drying up, would the harvest hold them through the winter.  It was after this that the Shaman rose and motioned me to follow him along a rough, dim passageway deeper into the mountain.

 

We passed lovely cave paintings, deer rendered with consummate grace, the wolfdogs were chasing a herd of shaggy buffalo closer to hunters, whose every line was taut with waiting.

 

A group of women bent to the harvest with love and gratitude to the Great Mother.  A startlingly real lion snarled from a shadow, so alive I had to pause and admire it further.

 

“Oh this is beautifully rendered!!”  I couldn’t help but follow the lines with a wondering fingertip.

 

There were small bowls, painstakingly chipped and rubbed smooth from stone, each with a different earth-toned paint in them.  I dipped a fingertip in one and drew the eyes of an owl, and then I added the beak, the sleek form of a perched owl, and a sturdy branch for him to perch on.

 

“Yes, your ancestress painted some of these, and her mothers before her.  I see you know of your Spirit Guides.”

 

“Yes, Owl came to me when I was born.”

 

“Come with me, I have much to show you before morning.  Your familiars have caught up with us, and now they will not get lost.”

 

I followed him to a small room carved into the stone, just large enough for the two of us to sit cross-legged on the floor with a tiny fire between us.  Pye and Skye each claimed a portion of my lap and settled for a snooze.

 

He began to hum, forcing the air to resonate on his sinuses, I joined in; when my cats felt my humming they began to purr to the rhythm of the Shaman.

 

I could feel myself slipping into a light trance and I let it happen; the Shaman spoke without words: “For you to continue, you must know how your kind came to be.”

 

I began to see images, slowly focussing and growing closer.  I was on a lovely, large tropical island, and there were two distinct forms of humanoids, there were the cavemen-type, standing straight and proud.

 

 I was closer to the second kind, tall, smooth skinned, and clothed in flowers, grey-blue tattoos and a woven skirt in the shades of a tropical sunset.  I wore necklaces, bracelets and anklets made of shells and coral, with pearls scattered amongst them.  As I moved through the throngs of people the shells clinked together making a quiet tune to my movements.  

 

We were on the shore, where enormous canoes of tree trunks, woven lashings and tar rode the waves with comfortable grace.  They were decorated with garlands of flowers, woven so closely together that the petals of one blossom crowded the next.  Their sails were painted with sigils of protection and signs of peace large enough to be seen from a great distance.

 

I was handed into the largest canoe, with a mixed crew of the cavemen types sitting on either side of me.  A great portion of the canoe was taken up by foodstuffs, both for the coming journey and as gifts for the people where we going to. There were living animals tethered in another canoe, and a third was heavy with the handiwork of the people.

 

Carvings, painted wooden plaques, shell and stone jewellery were neatly stacked along with woven platters, bowls and colourful screens.  Piles of brightly dyed, soft, woven cloth painted rainbows in the belly of another canoe.  There were some bowls, cups and mortars with pestles smoothed from stone in yet another canoe. 

 

The journey was begun; the crew and I sang songs to the stars as we rowed across an ocean of impossibly blue depths, and lazy swells were pushing us toward our goal.  More often than not, the wind was in our favour and we could hoist sail and tend the canoes themselves.

 

Gradually the weather became rougher, and the water coldly green; we passed a headland and breathed a sigh of relief for we knew the most dangerous part of our journey had been passed.  The skies cleared and the water changed again, now a lovely deep green, warm and beckoning.

 

Soon a smudge appeared on the horizon, after three days of rowing we could see the island, surrounded by an almost impenetrable brackish marsh.  We were met by one of the tall, smooth-skinned humanoids, a handsome, passionate man commanding a seemingly gigantic craft of his own.  The sturdy wooden sides were carved and painted with complex symbols and the Matrons of the ship were carved, painted and set onto the prow of every ship.

 

He and I spoke at some length, about the time being short and this would be the last chance for ‘them’ to stay.  Those that had come to love the cavemen and their world as I had, didn’t want to leave this world and travel to one we did not know, not even though we had been assured that we would be welcomed.

 

He agreed, and said that he would gather those that did not want to leave, and they would follow us to the island I called ‘home’.  Within two days there was a fleet of some dozen boats, all dwarfing my beloved flotilla of canoes.  At last the man that I had spoken with reappeared, with the final two craft.

 

We spoke again in length, and at last agreed that if the commanders and crew of the other vessels took some of the natives of ‘my’ island to wife or husband, their acceptance would come more easily to his people, by my people.

 

I agreed, and the men of his people asked how they would need to take my people to wife; I explained that they would need to pay a bride-price to her family and then ‘steal’ her in a ritual that culminated with their wedding feast.

 

The women asked how they could tell a man of my people that they desired to be taken as his bride.  I explained about how a bride’s value was determined by what she could bring into the marriage.  A woman showed a man the many things she could bring to the marriage, all of them made by her hand.  She showed these to the man she desired, and then, if he desired her, he would speak to her family about the bride-price.

 

Most women’s’ bride-prices were in goods, servants, and property; a very, very few were valuable enough to merit not only the usual price, but an additional price to be paid to the bride herself in precious stones, metals, and such.

 

I watched happily through the return journey as my men took the other women to wife, and the women of my people promised to show their goods to one man or another of the shining ones.  Soon, the crews were no longer separate peoples, but one crew spanning many vessels.

 

Through all of this I desired the commander of the fleet I led to my home, the first man that had met us at his island.  I did not offer to show him my goods, for I was sure he desired another woman, one both lovelier and younger than I.

 

Each day I expected to be asked to arbitrate their marriage, which I would do gladly for the love of them and of our people.  We were counting the days until we would see my home shining in the sweet seas; the shining ones had nearly ceased to think of themselves as different, and were gradually becoming native in their lifestyle and values.

 

The first time a shining one was swimming and was greeted joyously by a dolphin was perhaps my happiest day.  It was the first time I had seen wonder on an shining one’s face, and the joy on all of their faces as an enormous pod, almost 200 strong, of dolphins led our fleet across the blue waters, were like a heady drug for me and I stood in my canoe, singing to the dolphins in the natives’ language.  The dolphins’ easy acceptance of the shining ones augured well for the success of this journey.

 

My home was a cloud on the horizon when we saw the flames of the shining ones’ people that were returning home, their airships rose impossibly high and then joined the stars in the heavens.  Everyone sang a song of farewell as the airships disappeared.

 

After this we were impatient to reach our home and feel solid ground beneath our feet again.    The crew was impatient, and redoubled their efforts to gain the shore soon.  As I sat in my canoe, and read the skies for direction the commander of the fleet sidled his personal vessel close to mine and bade me join him in his quarters.

 

After I had boarded his vessel, and greeted many of the crew, we wthdrew to his quarters; he bade me sit upon his hammock and he sat beside me.  He started speaking slowly, with a few false starts;  “I hope this will not offend you…” He ran shaking fingers through his hair.

 

“I have been watching you through this voyage, and now I must ask this of you.  Would you tell me your bride-price, that I may win you as my own.”

 

He opened a small, ornate chest and held a handful of shimmering golden chains, bracelets and suchlike out to me.  “This I will pay to you, and everything I have I will offer to your family when we have arrived home.”

 

My heart sang so that I could not speak for a moment, and I had to swallow many times before I could force any words out.  “I am shocked, I had long ago expected you to ask for someone else.”

 

“Am I not offering enough?”  He sounded genuinely hurt.

 

“It is not that.  I have no bride-price, for I have no family to ask it of.  I have been an orphan since I was born, and was raised by everyone.”  I covered my face to hide my shame.

 

“I knew your sire, he was the first of us to take a native to wife.  He was driven out of the shining ones’ for this, and sought shelter among the natives.”  He lifted my face and smiled.  “Among shining ones, your bride-price would be one of the highest, for your father was founder of both the shining ones’ island and your island.  I only dared ask your bride price because my father also founded the shining ones’ island.”

 

“I will be honoured to show you my goods when we reach Lemuria.”  I kissed both of his cheeks and smiled back at him.  We returned to the deck and as soon as the crew saw the chain around my neck they began shouting and cheering.

 

The next evening we arrived at Lemuria, and everyone poured onto the beach to welcome us.  Fathers greeted new sons-in-law and mothers clasped new daughters-in-law to their chest, all of this done with noisy laughter, a great deal of embracing, and more than a few tears of happiness.

 

I stood on the beach of home and watched my ‘family’ grow larger by the second and I felt I should glow with happiness.  When everyone was beckoned towards a feast that was cooking in giant pits of glowing coals and in kettles on the edges of the fire I joined them, laughing, dancing and singing along the path to the village.

 

The feast lasted until almost dawn, with stories of the Journey being shared and performed around the fire-pit.  As many of the people retired to their homes I approached the Matron of our people.

 

I asked her permission to show my beloved my many goods.  I also showed her the golden chain I wore around my neck and told her of the chest full of such things he had offered to me.

 

“Tell your young man that your bride price will be this:  I ask him to send his ships around the world to seed oour people everywhere, but.”  She held up a hand to silence me.

 

“He must remain here, with you, to become the leaders of our people.  Together, man and woman as it is meant to be.  With you as the next Matron I can go easily to the stars, knowing that my family will be cared for with love and honour.  Now. Show your mate your goods, as I saw you come from his quarters on his ship, I could tell that he has already taken you to wife.”

 

In the years that followed my mate and I watched the population of our island grow great enough for seeding many times.  Each time we sent another boat filled with those to seed our world with the children of the shining ones we did so with joyous songs and days long celebrations.

 

Although I never brought a child to our union my mate and I were happy in the knowledge that we were doing the best for our combined peoples, and our adopted world.  We would never know if our ‘seeding’ flourished or no, we could only pray that it was so.

 

After many years my mate returned to the stars and as I sang his body to the deeps my spirit knew that he and I would meet again one day, and that we would know the joy of our bond once again.

 

I came back to the little stone room, and felt the tears soaking my face, yet I did not feel sad, but blessed to know my beginnings on our world.

 

“I need not ask if you saw what you needed to, I can see that you did.”  The Shaman reached out, caught one teardrop on a fingertip and kissed it reverently.

To be continued: