Interlude II (an excerpt from my novella-poem "Sludge White and the Seven Curmudgeons")

Lumpy caught Weepy as he dipped in a swoon

sparked and smitten by Sylvana's gallant tale.

it seemed that Sappy had forgotten to breathe

his chocolate skin tempered to a creamy pale.

Pasty grew pensive.  "i fled to that hollow

ferried through the air by some magical grace.

encircled by willows, enveloped by bells,

your phantom hollow is an actual place."

Gramps said "quite surely.  it's in all the legends.

custom calls it 'appily Ever After.

that's 'cause it's mostly composed of reflections

and tears shed there are said to brim with laughter.

no space misplaces your neighbors or their thoughts

and each consequence gets concurrently cast.

whatever you fancy unfolds on the spot

yet the time it befalls has already passed."

"it's not likely you've heard of it." Mock observed.

"i'll warrant their majesties wouldn't approve.

to escape the contagion of reflection

they'd bloody well force the whole kingdom to move."

mirth unfastened every face but Pally's

for humour was estranged from his senses by grief,

swapped like the hopes of ByWater Landing

for the changeling terror of a soul-sickened thief.
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- Evan Hawthorn, the 22^nd of May, 2016