Being Dr. Seuss is fun

I peered through the window
& what did I see?

Me making She
& She making Me.

Was there glee?

Or a feeling to flee?

Perhaps a pot of tea?
With honey from the bee?
But not from my knee.

No, no.
Only We.
Just Me
& She.

Nothing bad could be,

When it's simply we.

For we're holding the key,
to set ourselves free,
& sail on the sea,
or maybe live in a tree....

Well, whichever it be, sea or tree,
it's We.
She
&
Me
&
Me
&
She.

~are you making magick or too busy being tragick?~
Meliss

Let me tell you a little birthday Dittle

What?

Rowan today it's your Birthday!

Yum, that means I get Fancy Feast!

Yeah, but first let me tell you a dittle.

Mom, what's a dittle?

It's a little story all about you.

YAY for Rowan!

It goes like this,
When Rowan was a baby,
he came to live with us.

And he got to sleep wherever he wanted,

Yeah, except when you used to try to stop me
from sleeping on the back of the couch
by putting tape on it until you gave up.

Uh-huh...

and he got to watch tv,

Hey, can we watch the squirrel show today?

Yeah, later, Rowan...

and he got to watch the birdies
out the window,

Ooo, can we watch the bird show too?

Yeah, Rowan, later, I'm telling the story....

and even though sometimes
we dress him up like Nana Rowan,

I hate it when Nana Rowan comes to visit.

he still loves us!

Yeah, I guess I do.

Mom, can we have treats?

And milk?

And catnip?

And grass?

My belly's hungry.

Happy 11th Birthday Rowan "The Dittle King" Ambrose

A Papered Post

in the valley of my paper dream


i drifted down a paper stream



& found inside the fold's embrace



reflections of her papered face



the press of paper inside of my palm



pale and pastel, a sensing of calm



perfect paper petticoats, all in a row




pave the path for a papery kind of bow



then printed on my paper heart



are promises to never part



so for dinner i'll concoct my artist's brew



of magick and mayhem and peppered paper stew



for pasted paper skirts with my prints on the edge



have me ceasing from sailing and dropping my kedge

~have a papery kind of weekend~
Meliss

Alis Volat Propris

"She flies with her own wings"
of ghost and gossamer



ever here
then ever there



reflecting The Light of The Source



open to holding it fully
and completely
with no space left for junk



and only time for dancing across the sky,



floating through the garden at night,



and seeing through moonbeam eyes



the meantime of modesty's metaphor.



That's when she speaks
"I call out to you,
Step to the out~side



and into Our Light



and find that you can believe in magick again...
OH silly girl, not the magick of the world,
the magick of YOU!
For that is the only real magick that exists.



Everything else is just smoke and mirrors."

~make a magickal day for yourself~
Melissa