Topic: What kind of creature are you in the Unicorn Forest? Come play with me - please

[Sno]

It is time.

They said, unconvincingly.

It is time.

The stifling heat of summer courses languidly through the drooped dripping canopy.

They need to connect.
The forest need.

Of bough and stilted, whistful breeze.

Escapes from truths harder to find, and yet, yet,
Cool calm forest glade.

Quiet utterance, and acceptance,
Difficult to be,
And difficult to not.

A small chink of light, creeps.
And spreads it’s weak colours wide - is it the treehouse
Casting a rainboughed spell - ravaged soul
Seeking rest and cool

Balm, calming, accepting, welcome

The glade seeks quiet.

The bear is in the shadows.

[Satinjoy]

Sh'e smiles a gentle smile and lights a candle and a stick of insence.

The quiet aging Fairy, clothed in satin and lace, living h'er truth.

Its been long since sh'e came back to h'er treehouse, sh'e is resting.

Hugs, dear bear.

[Sno]

The whisper of breeze stirs
A quiet knowledge sits
Watching.
The smoke fine filigree writes on the dappled green shade blue sky
S’he is home again.
The bear moves.
Slowly.  Very slowly.
It has been painful this time.
A step more in the battle to be.
Understanding filtering in slowly
Such a sweet mellow drift of blossom on the breeze.

[Satinjoy]

Of all days to visit it would be now lol.

Tired bear and tired Fairy, still watching but seeing the world go by as the young ones take their turn.

Let us rest by the fire, and remember.

[Tessa James]

And our fires remain burning while our hearts and hearth stay warmly welcoming.  We have been many miles and years on this journey.  Such a joy to meet the younger ones who now more often are accompanied by friends and a supportive family.

For now we let our smoke signals waft skyward and announce we are home and ready for your fine company.  Please settle in that old chair and we can raise some cheer and a cup or two to toast the good times.

[Satinjoy]

Hugs honey.

Come on in, the incense is lit and the wine is poured.

Happy Easter.

[Tessa James]

Good morning dear sister and happy Easter to you.  I found my eggs to be over easy this morning and I only wish there were ways to ease and erase the pain or at least roll a big stone over them.  I am grateful for our companions and family along this twisted path in the forest.

I may need to smudge my current mood

[Sno]

Hon, it’s not a smudge. It’s an enhancement.

As the leaves crackle underfoot, subtle
Changing
Colour green to gold,
The turning season will reveal new growth.
And wandering amongst this almond grove,
Heady scented floral fine,
Sat in the air, with a tinge of bitter-sweet incense.
Slowly, progress is made, slow, slow, the change.
And yet in quiet golden glade,
Rest beckons.

[Sno]

The lure of the glade.
It beckons.
It’s a siren call, a unrelenting whisper
Slow.
Seductive and gentle,
Yet all powerful remains buried deep in our hearts.
The whisper of breeze slowly over the canopy,
Provides invading stillness that is cried for, and yet
Yet the scent of incense.
It’s whiff curl beckon to memories past.
Allows a little rest.
At last.

[Tessa James]

The lure of the glade.
It beckons.
It’s a siren call, a unrelenting whisper
Slow.
Seductive and gentle,
Yet all powerful remains buried deep in our hearts.
The whisper of breeze slowly over the canopy,
Provides invading stillness that is cried for, and yet
Yet the scent of incense.
It’s whiff curl beckon to memories past.
Allows a little rest.
At last.

And here today on the Pacific Ocean coast the fog wafts in and connects with the sitka trees it nourishes and soothes.  The canopy is alive with bird song and the deeper forest floor is literally crawling with critters on two feet or more.  This is a coastal river retreat for me and one I love to share.  A rest and respite from a maddening and often senseless world outside.  Holding hands we wander a winding path.

[Pygmalion]

In a secluded grove is a little hut, wherein dwells a somewhat flamboyant gnome wizard and his three beautiful female companions. Here they smoke their pipes, listen to music, drink, entertain guests, read old books of lore, and go on astral voyages to dreamland. 

The only thing that strikes visitors as odd after a time, is that the gnome and his three lovers often seem to be the same person, and although their personalities are somewhat different, exactly which personality is in which body seems to shift even in mid-conversation.  Everything seems a little mutable here in the gnome mage's hut ... One can never really be sure that anything, themselves included, will quite stay the same during a visit.

But be sure to stop by.  They love guests.  Just watch out for the moody, pale skinned, dark haired lady companion if you swing by at night - she has fangs.  Though she only ever has the littlest of nibbles.  I promise.

[Tessa James]

Welcome dear Gnome Wizard of the grove!  We note your hut is cheerfully sited and often emanates with great tunes and scents.  Be ye one or many you are friends and neighbors here.

[Pygmalion]

Welcome dear Gnome Wizard of the grove!  We note your hut is cheerfully sited and often emanates with great tunes and scents.  Be ye one or many you are friends and neighbors here.

Thank you!  All are friends at the home of the gnome ...

[chloe_h]

@pygmalion, what a magical description, I'm quite enchanted and intrigued by it! That's a lovely way to express this aspect of yourself (yourselves)!

I love this thread so much and I'm glad it's still going! For me, I'd definitely be an elven princess from one of Tolkien's books.  Not quite so majestic as Galadriel (heavens, no!) and certainly not as beautiful as Luthien Tinuviel, but someone who loves to wander through the woods under the stars late on a moonlit night listening to the sounds of the night and chanting elven poetry...

I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew:
Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in the branches blew.
Beyond the Sun, beyond the Moon, the foam was on the Sea,
And by the strand of Ilmarin there grew a golden Tree.
Beneath the stars of Ever-eve in Eldamar it shone,
In Eldamar beside the walls of Elven Tirion.
There long the golden leaves have grown upon the branching years,
While here beyond the Sundering Seas now fall the Elven-tears.
O Lórien! The Winter comes, the bare and leafless Day;
The leaves are falling in the stream, the River flows away.
O Lórien! Too long I have dwelt upon this Hither Shore
And in a fading crown have twined the golden elanor.
But if of ships I now should sing, what ship would come to me,
What ship would bear me ever back across so wide a Sea?

[Pygmalion]

Thank you Chloe

Tolkien elves are lovely ... I'm sure you're an amazing and graceful elf.

[Sno]

In the still damp earth of a fine winters morning, the bear wakes, and sees the cubs happily playing, chattering of distant glades and new friends to be made.

We seem to have survived again, with no rhyme or rime to reason
And yet the cubly chatter smashing on all in fervent excited.
Then the old bear starts to notice that we didn’t know,
That for lots inside that time has stood still,
The cubs are not ageing.
 Yet in passing thought the world of each cub is personally engaging,
vivid like a dreamlike shimmer.
To be scattered lost,
and rejoiced.
A message is slow in sinking in, but to this bear it’s terror,
That one who visits the glade has oft asserted that I are we, together.
And so I’ll close this recent entry, we are off to find a neighbour.
We’ve heard a tale, long and dark
Like all the best ones are,
Of a new glade not far away, with a wizard
Swift transforming.
So out the burrow, squeezing
The flash of light that from the sun, has this dear earth transformed
And yet, and yet we could not stop without the cubs
Summoned, scattering, learning

[Satinjoy]

There is a rustle in the leaves.

Long has it been since the aging Fairy visited this place.

Hugs darlings, in fond memories of the years we shared and always will.

May the new Year bring you joy.

Sh'e lives on, in the world beyond  this place, dreams came true.

[Sno]

The quiet calm of knowing.
Whistful, silence.
Knowing.
And yet a companion alongside
Who saw and sees through the vague guises we try to create.
She knows we are not one, but many.
S’he maybe doesn’t know; but yet
In the stillness and quiet we roam.
We may sit among the shrub and trees;
Waiting for the incense breath of sandalwood and firelight.

For all of those that dare to be - welcome to the circle.

Loves to yous all <3

[Froodah]

I'm a glamorous old lady named Froodah.

[Tessa James]

Welcome to the Unicorn Forest dear Froodah.  I feel sure you can find some fun trails and temptations here