Profile

Welcome to my world. Its a nice enough place. Watch your step, though. Sometimes the ground only *looks* solid. Feel free to wander around and enjoy yourself. Try not to touch anything delicate looking.

Notice to Travelers:
Just so you know...I post quite a bit. Some of it is public but a lot more is Friends Only. If you want to see those posts, let me know and I will add you.




I love people, I love reading about them, their lives. I love talking to them.




Cherry ice cream smile



I
We read.



He trembles in the bitter wind
Until it's time for us to speak
Whilst others here are sleeping sound
I'll slip away by floorboard creak
Upon the hill he'll hear my secrets
Shock the colors to bleach inside
Whilst others there are sleeping sound
Just we two will confide
Listen to his body moan
Make a wish and send us home
To spin the gold and silver stitches
We can turn his rags to riches
With frosty Jack on fingernail
Thro' shoe black smile he'll tell-a-tale
Come whisper thro' your lips of straw
A moment torn forever more
Listen to his body groan
Make a wish and send us home
To spin the gold and silver stitches
We can turn his rags to riches
My so-called friends say you're not alive
I'll bake their bones for telling lies
Then pull the pastry from the pie
And pour the gravy in their eye
Listen to his body moan
Make a wish and send us home
To spin the gold and silver stitches
We can turn his rags to riches
-Scarecrow, Siouxsie & The Banshees

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"What was that?" hissed Arthur
"Something red," hissed Ford back at him.
"Where are we?"
"Er, somewhere green."
"Shapes," muttered Arthur, "I need shapes."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

'There came three ladies at sundown
one was as brown as bread is brown,
one was black, with a sailor's sway,
and one was as pale as the moon by day.

The white one wore an emerald ring,
the brown led a fox on a string,
and the black one carried a rosewood cane
with a sword inside, for I saw it plain.

They took my own room, they barred the door,
they sang songs I had never heard before.
My cheese and mutton they did destroy,
and they called for wine, and the stable boy

And once they quarreled and twice they cried-
Their laughter blazed through the countryside,
The ceiling shook and the plaster flew,
and the fox ate my pigeons, all but two.

They rode away with the morning sun,
the white like a queen, the black like a nun,
and the brown one singing with scarlet joy,
And I'll have to get a new stableboy.'
-The Innkeepers Song by Peter Beagle



"Si hoc subscritio legere potes, operis boni in rebus Latinus alacribus et fructuosis potiri potes! ("If you can read this signature, you can get a good job in the fast-paced, high-paying world of Latin!")




All work on this site is copyrighted and cannot be reprinted without express consent of Bonnie Steele (aka triplemare) No usage without permission.