View allAll Photos Tagged write
Tom Smith
Stafford-based rockers Editors took over the second stage for a massive 14-song set that many in the crowd had been looking forward to all day, Tom Smith’s men making sure to touch upon each of their five studio albums while giving last year’s In Dreams a good airing ...
Read my full write-up on the 2016 edition of Bilbao's BBK Live Festival over at RockShot Magazine.
Yes, we did it. And we have plenty of blisters to prove! We whinged, moaned and cursed but at the end we walked 100km in impressive 26h44min59s non-stop through the night to Brighton. Only 288 teams (out of 502 who set off in Petersfield) crossed the finish line and we are quite proud of our achievement as, according to the organisers, our time is the new event record in the category "fastest slightly overweight Brazilians in their early thirties with a strange attraction for lycra (but only some of them!)". Actually, we could've cut down the time by 15min but, keeping a Brazilian tradition, we were late for the big day.
But we didn't walk the equivalent of almost 2.5 marathons (and a complete ascent of Ben Nevis!) just because we like to punish our feet for not being good enough to play football professionally. We did it to raise money for Oxfam and The Gurkha Welfare Trust.
So please help us beat our fundraising target by making a donation through this page. It is simple, fast and totally secure. It is also the most efficient way to sponsor us: Trailwalker will receive your money faster and, if you are a UK taxpayer, an extra 28% in tax will be added to your gift at no cost to you.
What will your donations do? £6 can pay for an amazing 100 school dinners for children, encouraging them to go to school to learn to read and write - some food for thought! / £12 buys two dozen chickens (isn't that a KFC family bucket?) / £35 can buy a solar powered water pump and filter system to bring clean and safe drinking water to some of the most remote places on the planet where needed.
Oxfam is a development, relief and campaigning organisation dedicated to finding lasting solutions to poverty and suffering around the world. The Gurkha Welfare Trust was set up in 1969 to relieve hardship and distress among Gurkha ex-servicemen of the British Army and their dependents in Nepal – one of the poorest countries in the world. The Trust’s work now also includes assistance with medical aid, education and aid to communities in which the Gurkhas live. Money raised through Trailwalker funds education projects across Nepal.
Many thanks for your support.
To sponsor us, please just go to www.justgiving.com/braziliannuts
and help us to reach our target
Find out more about the Trailwalker UK here
www.oxfam.org.uk/get_involved/fundraise/trailwalker/index...
© All rights reserved
2022 Student Literary Awards night held in Mitchell Library Gallery Room, NESA Write On and Word Express
© State Library of NSW. Photo by Joy Lai
I write on myself. On my arms, mostly. It's the only time I write poetry, anymore.
The title of this one is Stolen Words.
Hi, my handsome king. I'm your queen. Let's go to the wonderful kingdom of sex. Write me to Snapchat: milisy96
I support the Write-in Taiwanese Campaign, the only problem is that I am neither Taiwanese, nor American. I just want to piss the Chinese Communist Party off. lol
Before Starting this Write up for the Days Events I want to say a Huge Thank You to all of the Marshals at Brands Hatch for the work that you do as without you We would not be able to Witness the Amazing Racing that takes Place Here Every Year.
During the Events of Saturday A Marshal Was Tragically Killed in an Accident on the Circuit. My Thoughts and Prayers are with The Family of the Marshal as well as Everyone Involved in the Incident.
Lets Keep Working Hard to Make Racing Exciting but also to work on the Safety Aspect of Both Spectators and Marshals at Each Event.
It was Time for the BARC To make a Very Special Return to Brands Hatch for the Annual BARC Club Car Championship Races. The Grids were looking to be Full up with lots of Action across both the Saturday and Sunday with Qualifying and Racing.
Lets See who's up First and Who can Take their Vehicles around the very Fast and Highly Paced Indy Circuit.
Brit Car Endurance Championship/Endurance And Praga Categories (Qualifying)
First Up was the Brit Car Endurance Championship Featuring a whole range of different cars from the Ferrari 488 to the Praga R1T. Thease two Classes of cars ran together during Qualifying so lets see who managed to take Pole Position for the Race on Sunday.
In First Place was (Tim Gray Motorsport and the Pairing of Richard Wells and Alex Kapadia) In their Praga R1T with a Lap Time of 44.675 and a Top Speed of 97.33mph. An Amazing Effort by Richard and Alex to claim Pole Position and start on the Front Row for Tomorrow's Race.
In Second Place was (CW Performance and the Pairing of Christopher Wesemael and Richard Morris) in their Praga R1 with a Lap Time of 45.128 and a Top Speed of 96.36mph. Another Incredible Drive from The Pairing of Christopher and Richard Claiming Second Position and Being Very Close to First in that Qualifying Battle. Fantastic Work.
In Third Place was (Team Praga Three Lions and The Pairing of Ash Dibden and Angus Fender) in their Praga R1 with a Lap Time of 45.365 and A Top Speed of 95.85mph. Very Close to Second Place Indeed with First, Second and Third place being a very hard Fought Battle for Positions. Fantastic work Ash and Angus.
A Very Exciting start to the Weekend with a Thrilling Qualifying Session and no doubt a Race to look forward to on the Sunday. Who will prevail and take the Checkered Flag? Only Time will tell.
CTCRC Edmundson Electrical Classic/Historic Thunder Saloons (Qualifying)
Next Up was the Edmundson Electrical Classics and The Historic Thunder Saloons as they Headed out for their Qualifying Session and with a Vast Grid of Historic Cars Such as Vauxhalls Fords and BMW'S this looks to be Another Spectacular Qualifying Session for the History Books.
Lets take a look and see who managed to get Pole Position and How Quickly they Managed to do it in.
In First Place was (Jason West) in his BMW E46 M3 3200 with a Lap Time of 50.576 and A Top Speed of 85.98mph. Very Fast Driving from Jason and a Fantastic Effort to achieve Pole Position for the Start of The Race.
In Second Place was (Mike Saunders) in his Ford MK1 Escort Mexico 4700 with a Lap Time of 51.100 and A Top Speed of 85.09mph. Another Fast and Well Controlled Lap from Mike to put himself into Second Place after a very Quick and Brave Drive.
In Third Place was (Andrew Wilson) in his Holden Monaro 7000 with a Lap Time of 51.282 and A Top Speed of 84.79mph. Fantastic Driving from Andrew to Achieve Third Place.
A Very Wonderful Qualifying Session for the CTCRC Edmundson Electrical Classic/Historic Thunder Saloons with Three Very Quick and Eager Drivers all wanting to be First but at the End of the Day their can only be One Winner. Who will it be? Only time will tell.
CTCRC JEC Saloon & GT Championship & Burton Power BOSS (Qualifying)
Next Up The Saloon and GT Championships and with More Escorts and Jaguars Heading onto the Circuit it was time to see what This set of Drivers could do and who would be able to claim Pole Position.
In First Place was (Malcom Harding) in his Ford Escort MK2 Zakspeed 2500 with a Lap Time of 53.705 and A Top Speed of 80.97mph. A Beautifully Prepared Machine Combined with a Fantastically Brave Drivers makes for a Perfect Paring. Amazing Work Malcom for Getting Pole Position.
In Second Place was (Steven Goldsmith) in his Ford Anglia 105e 2600 with a Lap Time of 54.237 and A Top Speed of 80.17mph. Another Amazing Driver pushing His Machinery Hard and Coming Very Close to Malcom's Time. Amazing Work Steven.
In Third Place was (Colin Philpott) in his Jaguar XJS 4000 with a Lap Time of 55.165 and A Top Speed of 79.27mph. Still Keeping very Close to Steven in Second Place and Rightfully Defending that Third Spot on the Grid. Amazing Drive from Colin.
Another Set of Amazing Drivers all showing the Love and Passion they have For Motorsport and Racing. But who will be Brave enough to push to the limits and Defend their Position for the Race. We will Have to Wait and Find Out.
CTCRC JEC Saloon & GT Championship & Burton Power BOSS (Race 1)
Its Time for The First Race of the Day and its for the JEC Saloons and GT Championship. After a Thrilling Qualifying Session Earlier its time to see who can Take Victory in the First Race.
In First Place and Taking the First Win of the Weekend was (MALCOLM HARDING) in his Ford Escort MK2 Zakspeed 2500 with a Lap Time of 54.028 and a Top Speed of 80.48mph. Amazing Drive There Malcolm and Congratulations on Your First Victory.
In Second Place was (STEVEN GOLDSMITH) in his Ford Anglia 105e 2600 with a Lap Time of 54.645 and A Top Speed of 79.57mph. Incredible Drive there Steve with a lot of Determination and a Very Brave Nerve to take Second Place.
In Third Place was (COLIN PHILPOT) in his Jaguar XJS 4000 with a Lap Time of 55.295 and a Top Speed of 78.64mph. Well Done Colin A Well Deserved Third Place and an Amazing Drive for Third Place.
What A Race from the Saloon and GT Championship and with Another Race to Come on Sunday More High Speed Action can be expected then.
CTCRC Laser Tools Pre 93 & Simply Serviced Pre 03 Touring Cars (Qualifying)
Next Up onto the Circuit was the Pre 03 and Pre 93 Touring Cars for their Qualifying Session and with some Fantastic Cars on the Gird it will be Interesting to see who Can take Pole Position and become the Victor of this Qualifying Session.
In First Place was (Gary Prebble) in his Honda Civic EG 2000 with a Lap Time of 52.971 and A Top Speed of 82.09mph. Fast and Committed rom Gary and a Beautifully Prepared Honda too. Well Done.
In Second Place was (AJ Owen) in his Honda Civic Type R 2000 with a Lap Time of 53.153 and A Top Speed of 81.81mph. Another Fantastic Drive from AJ Showing the Power of the Honda Engine and what it can do in the right hands.
In Third Place was (Don Hughes) in his Peugeot 306 XSI 2000 with a Lap Time of 54.013 and A Top Speed of 80.51mph. Another Super Lap from a Super Driver to Put himself into Third Place Behind the Two Hondas Awesome Work there Don.
A Brilliant Qualifying Session for the Pre 93 and Pre 03 Touring Cars. Well Done to the Top Three Drivers and Good Luck to all other Drivers Competing.
CTCRC Poultec Classic Race Engines Pre 66 Touring Cars (Qualifying)
Pre 66 Touring Cars are Next Up and usually a Fan Favourite at Brands Hatch Amongst Spectators and Race Enthusiasts and Who Can blame them. From the Mini Cooper S to The Ford Anglia and Lotus Cortina they are truly something Special to witness Racing around the Track.
Lets See who came where and how this will Impact the Race Ahead.
In First Place was (Alan Greenhalgh) in his Ford Falcon 4727 with a Lap Time of 58.396 and a Top Speed of 74.46mph. Fantastic Driving Alan and a well Deserved Pole Position.
In Second Place was (Robyn Slater) in his Ford Anglia 1550 with a Lap Time of 59.353 and A Top Speed of 73.26mph. Very Well Done to Robyn and an Amazing Drive to Achieve Second Place.
In Third Place was (Barry Sime) in his Morris Mini Cooper S with A Lap Time of 59.627 and A Top Speed of 72.93mph. Showing the Power of The Mini there Barry that's for sure What an Awesome Drive for Third Place.
What A Qualifying Session for the Pre 66 Touring Cars Showing some Awesome Machinery and Cars that Have Been Designed for One Thing Speed. Well Done to Alan Robyn and Barry Here's Hoping to see a Fantastic Battle Between all Three of you Come Race Day.
CTCRC Shell Oils Pre 83 Touring Cars (Qualifying)
Finally was the Turn of the Shell Oils Pre 83 Touring Cars to take to the Circuit. With More Fords and Jags ready to take on the Track and see who can take that Final Pole Position of The Day.
Lets see how things Turned out on the Track
In First Place was (Mike Luck) in his BMW E21 320 with a Lap Time of 56.575 and a Top Speed of 76.86mph. A Very Fast Time and enough to take Pole Position Amazing work there Mike.
In Second Place was (Mark Osbourne) in his Triumph Dolomite Sprint 1998 with a Lap Time of 56.839 and A Top Speed of 76.5mph. Amazing Drive from Mark to put his Triumph right up there in Second Place and not too far Behind Mike in the BMW.
In Third Place was (Stephen Primett) in his Ford Escort MK1 2037 with a Lap Time of 56.867mph and a Top Speed of 76.46mph. Another Incredible Drive for Third Place and The Final Spot in the Top Three for Qualifying. Very Well Done Stephen.
A Thrilling Qualifying Session for the Pre 83 Touring Cars to round of a Very Busy and Long First Day of Qualifying. Lets see what Each Driver can do come Race Day and who will be able to Dominate and Take Home The Trophy for Their Classes.
Best Luck To Everybody and See You All Tomorrow.
Students use Write About This on the iPad to respond to interesting photo prompts. www.writeaboutapp.com
I’ve been tagged by zail .Here are ten random things about me. I didn’t know what to write so asked my dear friends sunny n ravi to say some random things abt me…
1.I’m a bit on the shy side and take time to open up…but once I do I’m fun to be with…
2.I am very lazy :P I love to sleep, I love winter as I can sleep longer…wish I was a bear n could hibernate…
3.I’m nocturnal!! I love working at nights, have been studying only during nights all my life.
4.I have this strange desire to be aloof n live like a vagabond…something like that ‘Into the wild’ movie…
5.I love the color black. Actually anything on the darker side. My room is totally dark with black wallpapers and posters!! There is no tube light just a zero watt bulb inside a shade. I wish to paint my walls someday n do some graffiti.
6.I ve a fetish for Ties, love collecting them, too bad they don’t come cheap :(…
7.I’m 24 but already feel very old…
8.I admire Che Guevara! I have read his biographies n also motorcycle diary multiple times, his posters are all over my walls, have several tees with a che print, a tie with che print, a cap with che print even a wallet with che print. Want to get a graphic che sticker on my laptop…
9.I hate the sun and summer!! Gives me headaches!! Have this chronic migraine problem…
10.I dream of getting a DSLR !!! Also I wish I had a pro account…abt to reach my max limit in this free account…
PS: sorry for not visiting ur streams for last few days…will make up soon…
Per/Para/To: Click&Go
Tema/Topic: Escriptura/Escritura/Writting
...
Chicas, ya sé que no estoy a tiempo pero quería compartirla con vosotras ;-)
All comments are welcome
Please write me a comment if you like it or if you don´t
If you like so much you can add it to your favourites
Cualquier tipo de comentario sera bienvenido
Por favor, escríbeme un comentario si te gusta o no te gusta la foto
En el caso de que te guste la foto, puedes agregarla a tus favoritos
Todos los Derechos Reservados © No usar sin mi consentimiento
All Rights Reserved © Don't use without permission
Badbury Clump, near Faringdon, Oxfordshire.
These pictures are as good an opportunity as any for me to attach some of my completely unpublishable fairy tale novellas for childish adults. One novella won't fit on a single image, so I'll have to attach it chapter by chapter. This novella is by far the quirkiest, so I'll start with it. There are others which are perhaps easier to follow on a first reading, but I was at my most mischievous here, I think...
HINGEFINKLE'S LOGBOOK (First instalment)
Part One: Gnomes and other Goodies; Goblins and other Baddies
The Grisly End of Gwydion
You will no doubt be delighted, my dear little Alias, to know that I, your adopted father Hingefinkle, modest expert on the taxonomy of monsters and collector of bardic lore, have decided that I am not getting any younger, and that if I am going to write my memoirs at all, then I had better start writing them now. I count my own humble life as being of trifling importance to the overall scheme of things; yet I have, I think you will agree, lived through some times and encountered some creatures which have been, to say the least, absolutely fascinating. It is for the sake of these momentous events and these extraordinary monstrosities that I now put pen to paper, knowing that you of all people, little Alias, will gladly assist in handing down their memory to posterity.
How old were you when you rendered the Four Branches of the Mabinogi into verse? I forget, but you cannot have been much older than five or six. What a clever little fellow you are! And how perceptively you wrote of Pwyll’s descent to the underworld, of the strange powers of the disembodied head of Bendigeidfran, of Llew Llaw Gyffes and the owl-woman Blodeuedd: tales spanning the past five centuries - and the later ones not entirely beyond my own experience. But of all the men and women of those times, it is Gwydion whose memory still brings a chill to my heart, and my blood runs cold when I hear those words of yours:
Hanner Hwych, Hanner Hob, Gwydion the mage
Bold Pryderi, Lord of Dyfed, hath incited unto rage.
My boy, even after all our travels, you cannot begin to imagine the horror of that evil deed, when Gwydion brought to dust the fairest and justest lord this land has known - and yet you wrote of Pryderi’s funeral as though you were there yourself among the mourners. Little Alias, how ever did you know?
Slow the drum beats for Pryderi
Slow they walk on either side
Of the coffin borne so lightly
Where Pryderi once did ride.
Slow the horses, slow the nobles,
Slow the ladies garbed in black.
At Maen Tyriawg, o’er Y Felenrhyd
Lowly Cigfa groans, “Alack!”
Of course, there was a man more powerful than Gwydion, as well you know. For in the days before his tragic decline, which you have witnessed with your own eyes, King Math, son of Mathonwy, alone was able to defeat Gwydion in a battle of wills. Old Math had a sense of humour too; I seem to remember he even turned Gwydion into a sow on one occasion. Such indignity! But what Gwydion lacked in magic, he made up for in deviousness, cruelty and duplicity, and he soon regained his privileged position in King Math’s court. And then there was all that to-do with Blodeuedd, after Math and Gwydion had combined their powers to make her out of flowers. Poor old Math really messed things up that time - what a silly thing that was for him to do; to combine his powers with that wily enchanter and necromancer! Perhaps Agrimony is right, and it was then that King Math really started to lose his marbles. He could hardly have expected anything but trouble...
*
“Codswallop!” roared Agrimony decisively, glaring defiantly at King Math. “I am a Druid, not a flipping conjurer! This whole proposal stinks, and you know it!” He pounded the table with his fist, and the King glared back at him unflinching. At his feet sat his faithful fool, Coxcold, rather mournful-looking for a jester. Coxcold nodded silently as Agrimony spoke, and muttered softly:
Flowers may be worn by lasses
To make them look more pretty,
Flowers may be chewn by asses
Though it would be a pity:
But to make a lass from bits of weed!
Why, that would take an ass indeed!
Good King, don’t sow destruction’s seed
But heed my little ditty!
“Gwydion has earned our trust,” King Math replied, ignoring his fool. “If he wants to make a wife for his son Llew Llaw out of flowers, why should we stop him?”
“Ha!” snapped Agrimony, “But you don’t have to help him! Look! Flowers are flowers; people are people. People are not made out of flowers. It’s very simple. But if you want me to prove it, I will, with my microscope. Plant tissue has cell walls; animal tissue has cell membranes. They are different, that’s all there is to it! Hingefinkle agrees with me, don’t you? Good. I told you so.”
“But Gwydion -” began the King.
“But Gwydion my bellybutton!” roared Agrimony. “You make a woman out of flowers, and you’ll be defying nature. That’s not magic; it’s pseudo-magic, and I’ll have nothing to do with it! Quite frankly, Math, I can’t be bothered with standing around here arguing about it. Come on, Hingefinkle, we’re off!” He grabbed my cloak by the hood and dragged me from the throne-room before I even had a chance to tell King Math that I thought his idea was pure fiddlesticks too, and King Math bawled after him, “How dare you speak to royalty like that!”
Agrimony stomped furiously out the door, and just before he slammed it, he roared “Royalty schmoyalty!” in reply, his wizened face scarlet with rage.
Agrimony was right, of course. The whole thing was a perfectly atrocious disaster. Gwydion made Blodeuedd with oak-flowers and broom-flowers, and Math brought her to life with flowers of the meadowsweet. But she was unfaithful and treacherous to Gwydion’s son Llew-Llaw from the very beginning, and with the help of a callow, cowardly youth named Gronw, she conspired to have him killed. Llew Llaw turned himself into an eagle and flew away, and Gwydion had to ride out in search of him. When at last they returned, Gwydion’s fury knew no bounds, and he condemned Blodeuedd, his own creation, to spend the rest of her days as an owl. That was a cruel trick, when you think about it. Blodeuedd was made of flowers, and flowers like the daylight - but whenever she came out of hiding when the sun was still in the sky, the other birds would mob her and chase her mercilessly. And so she went to haunt the forest, hunting in the moonlight on silent, mournful wings, and all the while, she plotted her revenge.
Now it so happens that at that time, I had a certain interest in the taxonomy of birds of prey. You will be well aware, my dear Alias, that I am of the considered opinion - though I submit that it is not an opinion shared by Agrimony - that dragons are descended from birds and not from reptiles. There are good reasons for this: dragons are hot blooded, birds are warm-blooded; dragons can fly and so can birds, but reptiles are all cold blooded land-lubbers. Now, if my hypothesis were correct, then it would stand to reason that, of all the birds, the raptors must be the dragons’ closest living relatives. Why? Well, it’s a simple matter of rapaciousness - and besides, in recent years the harpy has once and for all been proven to exist: a missing link if ever there was one. The theory that harpies are half-human, half bird, pieced together as it had been from the garbled testimonies of the survivors of harpy-attacks, had long been discredited, and it seemed far more likely to me that here we had a transitional form between birds and dragons. But Agrimony would have none of this.
“Complete poppycock!” he said one day whilst I was visiting him at his hermitage. “Quite frankly, I don’t believe all this nonsense about harpies. And I won’t, either, not until I see a specimen myself. You are a stupid old codger, Hingefinkle! You are building a ridiculous edifice on flimsy foundations. First you say that dragons are descended from birds; a preposterous hypothesis which you now back up with a bit of hearsay about harpies. The ridiculous ardour with which you champion your theory of ornithological dracogenesis has borne fruit in the wholly unjustifiable credulity with which you choose to believe in harpies. Frankly, Hingefinkle, I can’t be bothered refuting such balderdash!”
“Fiddlesticks!” I replied. “You have no imagination Agrimony, and a fatal lack of drive. One of these days, I’ll prove you wrong - and since live specimens of Draco terribilis pyromanicus are wanting in these parts, I’ll just have to find you a harpy, dead or alive.”
And so, I began my researches in earnest. Convinced as I was that harpies were merely a natural mutation of more common birds of prey, I decided to devote my immediate attention to the common raptors of the region. They were not in short supply: there were marsh harriers, ever seeking their prey in the Rancid Swamp; there were sparrowhawks galore (one of them liked to eat pigeons in my garden); there were kestrels, hovering vigilantly over the fields; and there was even the occasional buzzard, sitting squatly on a fence-post waiting for voles. But surpassing them by far, both in beauty and in rapaciousness, was the great white owl who hunted every dusk in and around the Bluebell Wood. I took to following her, deeper and deeper into the forest, and although I am sure that my attempts to hide my presence were entirely unsuccessful, she seemed quite unperturbed. It was because of her that I came to realise that the Bluebell Wood is but the beginning of an enormous forest, stretching far to the east and to the north, and even arching around to the west for more than fifty miles, beyond the mountains which border the Rancid Swamp.
I was so absorbed in my researches, and, as the white owl led me deeper into her territory day by day, so often apart from normal human intercourse, that I was not privy to the latest diplomatic developments in King Math’s court. What I write here therefore depends almost entirely upon Agrimony’s testimony as to what had occurred, related to me some months afterwards, when the memory of other terrible events had faded enough for me to speak of them. King Math had long been on hostile terms with Leartus, King of the East. Long had they argued over the precise borders of their territories, and, as the years had passed, the tears which had fallen were only outweighed by the blood which had been spilt in the struggle to define which tract of forest belonged to which kingdom, or which uninhabited mountain was under whose jurisdiction. Now, apparently, Leartus had grown old, and was weary of all the fighting, so he offered the hand of his daughter Catriona, a charming and radiant creature, to King Math’s belligerent son Edwardes, in the hope that their union would bring peace. But of course, my dear little Alias, you know about that as well as I do, for you immortalised the whole story in song:
Wise King Leartus, alas, was growing old;
Never had England possessed more subtle King,
Yet soon would his heart be standing still and cold,
And his daughter Catriona wore no wedding ring.
Nought was more dear to Leartus in old age
Than soft-hearted, sweet-lipped Catriona fair
No man in the kingdom would forego to engage
With so lovely a Princess - without fault nor care.
Leartus had an enemy, the King from the West -
The country between them was ravaged by their wars.
“Our fighting is fruitless,” Leartus does confess
He wrings his poor ageing hands: violence he abhors.
Leartus sends emissaries to his foe;
Pledges Catriona to Edwardes, Prince of Wales:
“Mayhap Prince and Princess will our strife forego,
And their happy union succeed where fighting fails.”
The Welsh King respondeth, “I’m weary of our strife:
Sooner such a union than take to arms anew!
My bold Prince Edwardes will take your lass for wife:
He’ll meet her on neutral lands with her retinue.
Fair Catriona restrains her bitter tears
Her father she kisses and smooths away his frown;
Leartus wrestles with fatherly fears;
His bony hand clutches his daughter’s wedding gown.
At last she departs for a crossroads to the south,
Woodland soon closes in on every side.
Voiceless prayers pass through her pretty mouth,
Her retinue their tears have bravely dried.
Prince Edwardes rides a stately mare,
His faithful fool Coxcold’s upon a stubborn ass,
They come to the crossroads, down the path they stare
Randy Edwardes is looking for his lass.
But you forgot to mention, my dear Alias, that there was one other person in Edwardes’s retinue, for in addition to the King’s fool Coxcold, the Prince was accompanied by Gwydion the Mage, riding a fine white stallion. I know it for a fact, my dear boy, for I saw him with my own eyes.
I shall never forget that terrible evening, and I hope that I shall never again have cause to so much regret having been proven right. The white owl led me deeper into the forest than ever before, and as the moon rose, it cast a mournful, dappled light on the forest floor, until at last the bird led me to a deserted crossroads, and then disappeared without a trace. I searched the forest for more than an hour, in the hope of finding the owl once more; twice I heard her hooting, but when I hurried in the direction of the sound, there would be nothing, only the leaves rustling in a faint, whispering breeze. And then I heard hoofbeats coming down the pathway, and hid behind a tree lest it be bandits or goblins, for there were all too many of both in those days. It was neither; for there, with armour glinting in the moonlight, sat a retinue of mounted knights, and, upon a milk-white mare, the most beautiful woman you could ever imagine, her hair raven-black, her fingers long and slender, her gentle lips moving silently with unuttered prayers. They stopped at the crossroads and waited, and presently, I heard the sound of more hooves, and a second retinue of knights rode forward and saluted the first.
And he was with them, his lip curled upwards at the corner, his piercing green eyes staring at the woman Catriona, his heavy, black cloak making him look for all the world like a giant bat, waiting to suck the lifeblood of anyone who failed to keep his guard. His horse pawed the ground with its hoof, and steam rose from its nostrils as it snorted. Coxcold was there too, plodding slowly along on his ass, but he kept his distance from Gwydion and the Prince Edwardes, so that it was Edwardes who saw Catriona first, dear Alias, as you rightly observe:
“Behold! Catriona and her company!”
Cries lusty Edwardes, spurring his steed.
Catriona’s radiant, her hair is blowing free;
Edwardes’ mare’s soft flank begins to bleed.
Coxcold looks upon the fair princess;
His heart is piercéd by her gentle eyes:
He falls to his knees - his love he must confess
Brazen the fool his master now defies:
“Forgive my folly, good Princess Pretty,
Compelled to address you upon my bended knee!
My master Edwardes is pompous and shitty!
Alack! By my troth I love you more than he!”
The fool prostrates himself among the leaves,
Fair Catriona dismounts her milk white mare,
Edwardes’ men pull swords from their sheaths,
She mops up the poor fool’s tears with her hair.
He touches her hand, she looks into his eye,
Raging Edwardes cries “Surely, Fool, you jest!”
He grits his teeth, hissing “Nonetheless you die!”
And aims his sword at quaking Coxcold’s chest.
Swift steps the Princess between sword and fool;
The Prince’s cold blade pierces to her heart.
Dying she lies now, in a bloody pool,
Coxcold feels life’s fabric torn apart.
With his bauble he beats upon his master’s head,
But strange songs fill the forest on all sides.
Edwardes leaves the Princess lying dead,
Mounts his horse and through the woodland rides.
And throughout the whole horrible incident, Gwydion sat on his stallion, gazing dispassionately into space, and as Edwardes began to ride away, leaving poor Coxcold weeping over Catriona, he proclaimed that he was bored and wished that King Math had not sent him out on such a fool’s errand. Even to a man like myself, so uninterested in the affairs of human beings, it was obvious what had happened. Gwydion had always been opposed to King Math making his peace with Leartus, for war is a profitable business if you know how to organise things properly. As they rode away, I crept up to the place where Coxcold knelt, Catriona’s head cradled in his lap, and realised with a start that he too was quite dead, whether from grief or from shock, or from less natural means, I do not know. But there was something else more disturbing, for the air was filled with that unaccountable tingling, as if the very atoms are jarring against each other: always the surest sign that a magical spell has been cast. I looked up toward where Gwydion, Edwardes and their men were disappearing down the path, and reflected that this was as dark a deed of enchantment as any he had ever performed.
It was then that the music started. It was quite pleasant, I suppose, in its way, but I prefer your fiddle any day, dear little Alias. Its effect on the figures I was watching was quite different however, for they all turned their horses towards the sound, and even Gwydion did not seem to be immune to its enchantment. So I followed them too, merely out of curiosity, and the rest of the story is told by your song:
The music is limpid, it carries him along
Winding it weaves a web within his brain,
He’s charmed and enticed by the lilting song,
Its notes traverse the gulf ‘twixt bliss and pain.
Edwardes’ men, too, rally to the song,
And all the brave knights of Leartus’ household
Depart for the woods in one enchanted throng,
Leaving Catriona in the arms of poor Coxcold.
Edwardes rides to a clearing in the trees,
Five hideous harpies sing through rancid lips.
Edwardes dismounts, crawls forward on his knees,
The Prince’s clothes one harpy stoops and strips.
Screeching she beats his skull in with a bone
Two other harpies haggle for the meat,
Edwardes slumps limply forward with a groan
Their comrades lurk, the other knights to meet.
Blood runs fast and thick in woodland glade,
The harpies flap about and hiss with fetid breath.
Of all the retinue, not one knight has strayed
But all have wandered unerring unto death.
Now the harpies, hungry for the feast
Fight for the flesh, dispute the choicest fare
Soon their wrath has waxéd and increased
They scratch and screech and tear each other’s hair.
The Prince’s corpse the harpies attracts:
Each wants a morsel, each a sip of blood
Soon each harpy her sister attacks,
They tear one another to shreds in the wood.
They ate Gwydion too, before they turned on one-another. I would have run to help him - even him - but to do so would have been suicide, and besides, it was all over in less than a minute. When they had finished with him, there was nothing whatever left, for they carried his bones off into the forest and hid them. And then, not satisfied with their macabre feast, they started to eat each other, until not one of them was alive. When the danger was passed and I had recovered a little from the horror of it, I retrieved one of their talons, and carried it away with me. But before I left, as if enough extraordinary things had not happened already, the great white owl flew down from the canopy and perched on the ground where Gwydion had breathed his last. And then suddenly she was gone, and the forest floor was strewn with flowers.
*
My dear Alias, you can recount the rest with far more art than my poor, prosaic mind can manage:
Anxious Leartus waits upon his throne
For word of Catriona, his blesséd, gentle child.
The days roll onward, still he sits alone,
At last the old man rides into the wild.
He finds her at a crossroads, wound in her breast,
Weeps tears of rage that he sent her from his fold.
A dead man lies with her, blood upon his chest,
But no wound could they find on the body of Coxcold.
Love songs turn wise men raving mad
Love songs even make the foolish sad
Never heed a love song, succumbing to its force
Lest you trace the music to its source.
King Math might have recovered his former glory now that Gwydion was gone, yet it seemed that not even that one fragment of good could be extracted from the evil course of events. He was beside himself with grief for his poor fool Coxcold, and when another fool, an imbecile named Codpiece, was introduced to him, he misguidedly presumed that it was Coxcold come back from the dead. Thereafter, he hung on Codpiece’s every word, and Codpiece was hardly a distinguished advisor. The people of Cambria had much cause to wish for the days when Math, in full possession of his faculties, had not been able to do without a maiden at his feet; now, as a hopeless old widower with a simpleton among simpletons at his side, it was hardly surprising that Math’s worldly power was slowly usurped by Gwydion’s own son. To make matters worse, Leartus and Math held one-another responsible for the deaths of their children, and as a result, the war between East and West plumbed new depths of bloodiness and horror.
“But,” I hear you objecting, “surely there was one skerrick of good to be gained from the whole grisly story; you must have convinced Agrimony that harpies did exist after all.”
No such luck, I’m afraid. One night, when Agrimony seemed to be in a fairly good mood (his alchemical experiments were showing great promise), I broached the subject of the missing link between dragons and birds, and produced what I thought could only be regarded as irrefutable evidence.
“What?” roared Agrimony, hurling the specimen into the fire in a fit of indignation. “I tell you to bring me evidence that harpies exist, and the best you can do is to bring me a half-chewed eagle’s claw? Codswallop to that, I say!”
Please write me an email if you are interested to invite this special amulet made by Kruba Keow Ma.
sebastiancheung17@yahoo.com.sg
Write it up! Journal with unbleached linen covers, and 4 pouches at the end to hold all the ephemeral stuff you would like to keep in your journal.
Now listed.
What it is that you should write up?
*What crap the guys at the next table are saying.
*How beautiful the sky is today.
* What cool music you heard on your way to work today.
* The cinema recommendations you got from this really cute guy last week.
* whatever comes to your mind...
WRITE CREDIT WHEN YOU TAKE IT OUT AND DO NOT EDIT ON MY ARTWORKS! Contact: Twitter.com/Ubabe - Flickr.com/UbabeGall
Daniel Wood was so moved by the plight of Grenfell victims that he decided to write a poem of support and deliver it in person. So he walked from Wolverhampton to do just that. Hug from survivor Hamid.
1. Your Name/Your Flickr Name
2. Righty or Lefty?
3. Your favorite letters to write.
4. Your least favorite letters to write.
5. Write out the sentence, "The Quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog."
6. Tag 6 Flickr members.
Students use Write About This on the iPad to respond to interesting photo prompts. www.writeaboutapp.com