Death of a Dream

A pinnacle, this dream to taste the globe;
To savour, laugh and mingle, kiss and bow.
Unreachable, immortal it became,
A priceless hope beyond my grasp. But now –

A lesser peak I’ve scaled. I’ve found in touring,
Exotic flavours tend to common grey;
The globe to shrink. The revered dream is maimed.
Cathay and Rome are but a flight away.

Catching Up

Oh, oh, where to begin! And what to write! Soon August will stop "laughing across the sky" and the "still September fleetness" will begin. I think I'm ready for it, too. 

Our vacation was wonderful; we even came up with a motto for it: houseboats rock! Actually, for a few days after we returned to land, everything rocked. I have to say it's the oddest sensation to be sitting in a restaurant, but feeling like you're bobbing about on the water. Kind of creepy! 

Int'resting Life

Like Marigold says in Magic for Marigold, "Life is so int'resting!" This past weekend was particularly "int'resting," as it was spent with about two hundred people between the ages of fifteen and twenty-three in Ohio, U.S.

I had no idea how much I valued originality until this past weekend. At one service centre, forty percent of the people were wearing the same type of sandal. It made me want to go buy a pair of my own right away! Gag.

And that is only one of the many thoughts rumbling around in my head that started at this gathering. Another one is my thankfulness for being back in the country where people understand my humour. Quite a few times, after spewing a random comment, I would find myself sitting in silence while the rest of my group would look at me as though they didn't know what to do. Just laugh, ding-dong! Vocabulary is another source of difference. Oh, the poor people who don't use words like serviette, courier, and toque!

I have a feeling that this weekend's experiences will strongly affect me; its influence will pop up all over my blog. Only you probably won't recognize it. I will, though, and so I'll chuckle to myself as I write.

Journey Through The Heavens

I went wandering through the cosmos last night. The old familiar constellations had delightful tales to tell. Cassiopeia seemed lost; she was far from her usual palace. I told her so. She said she was just taking her yearly travels. I didn't dare to disagree; she can be such a disdainful ice queen. However, we gossiped about two stars that were flirting, Cassiopeia supplying some dreadful details. After the fact, she sternly reminded herself that royalty should never gossip, especially young royalty, but I promised her that I wouldn't leak any statements to the media. Later on, I swung within a couple light years of the flirting stars to see what they were up to, but they were very secretive. They weren't about to include me in their confidences! The man in the moon was on sick-leave, but in his place was his fair daughter. She was just a fragile crescent drifting gracefully towards the horizon. Well, I say a crescent. There was a deceptive glow that transformed her from a crescent into an elusive sphere. She wasn't very chatty; we sat in silence until she bid me goodbye for new worlds. Scorpius must have been feeling very friendly, for he talked to me. He’s one of those cold-blooded creatures that find a warmer dwelling place for the winter. Did he ever have some tall stories to tell! You can’t believe everything you hear. Anyway, his raspy voice got on my nerves after a while. And of course, Mother Milky Way was waiting patiently for me. Such a wise one, she is. She has been around for a couple eras and has a multitude of experiences to share. I was surprised how old she looked. Maybe it was one of her poorer nights, but it's a gentle reminder me that she won’t be around forever. And then it was time to leave this far-flung world for my own. All I have left from my travels are some memories and a bit of star dust around my lips. (Cassiopeia said I had to taste it; trust me, it’s wonderful). 

Do you ever wonder whether there really is such a thing as the music of the spheres? When you see the intricately placed stars strewn across that great dome of sky, and you stand in an atmosphere of communicative silence, you can almost imagine the majestic music played by the orchestra of the sky.