Evan Hawthorn's Blog

Evan Hawthorn's Blog
(visual aid by Christian Schloe)

Thursday, November 8, 2018

Sludge White and the Seven Curmudgeons - the far flung denouement


the door of the spookhouse lugged itself open
to accommodate the animated broom,
attending to attenuated tissues
and briskly dislodging accretions of gloom.


a turbulent breeze rattled the garden
and Sharpebeake and Dithery dived out of its tide.
observing the approaching hail of petals
the broom stiffly bristled and swept back inside.

as the sun took its turn arraying the bower
a staggered Sappy emerged from the trees.
propelled by the vision thrust upon him
he stumbled to the grotto and slumped to his knees.

Dithery landed next to her sister
in a fluster of feathers and sputtering caws.
tilting her head, she said "shouldn't we help him?
i fancy there's something amiss with his paws."

"that's one of our fledgling's pedestrian projects.
you needn't fret.  i expect it can crawl."


Dithery demurred.  "the poor wingless things!
it's a wonder they manage to waddle at all!"

*

as Lumpy was ladling seconds on porridge
a sheathed figure waltzed through the kitchen door
and, milking a theatrical entrance,
a drapery of frippery flopped on the floor.

Trixie the barmaid from the Gimpy Gait,
patched lashes glitzed in glitter, lush lips glazed in gloss
flaunted jeweled hands on pert, sashaying hips,
his lavender curls like flippant candyfloss.

Rashful bridled as he plunked down the fritters,
on the quivering edge of going berserk.
"how am i expected to scrounge up breakfast
with people leapin' from the freakin' woodwork?"

the minstrel laughed as he pushed out a chair.  "how's Trix?
has the Contra Band been clapped in the clink?"
but he couldn't hear the disgruntled answer
over Rashful's thrashing dishes in the sink.

"i'm afraid i've come with unpleasant tidings
spilled from a goon what was cryin' in his mead."

"unless our sainted sock's gone spastic" piped Mock
"the ill wind that brought you is freighted indeed."

Trixie flinched as he noticed Solomon
deferentially nodding his swiveling head.
since none of the others were disconcerted
he feigned nonchalance to camouflage his dread.


Sylvana passed him the last of the kippers
and Gropey plucked his knife from a swishing scrap.
though unnerved by the bumping cutlery
he managed to evict the fingers from his lap.

when Mock sent out runners to fetch the salt
his affected composure left off its pretense.
"seein' as your mouth's already open" snapped Mock
"what say you dish dirt and siphon suspense?"

"oh, right!  well, the clangin' wankers are on the move.
your lot's been decreed a terrorist cell;
a pod of the People's Free Collective
hatchin' Commie plots in the godless pits of hell.

i think that's how the pickled git put it.
that, and you're behind the princess's abduction."

Mock seemed pleased.  "now that's deflective invective!
offending logic with dodgy deduction."


Rashful caught sight of something in the window
that snagged his attention and held it in thrall.
as he sidled unnoticed through the back door
Mary the banshee glided in from the hall.

"who's tickling my ears with that dulcet din,
budging a coffer that's scraping up the grout?
wee as a gnome, or some other slight kin,
but the garden's gone dark and i can't make him out."

elation ensued which funneled through Lumpy.
"our Sleazy and Chester are back in the fold!"

Mortimer's wonder was tempered with velvet.
"just prior to the rain!  it's what she foretold!"

frayed percussive patterns were pelting the panes
as smudged clouds thickened, injecting gloaming gloom.
and those in the kitchen were stricken at once
with a ponderous presentiment of doom.


"some comely peddler must be hawkin' glum pusses."
Sleazy in a snit sauntered through the room.
"ain't none of you chuffed or rubbin' your peepers?
this grubbery smacks of an overbooked tomb."


*


it was then that the siege made itself known
with a seismic breach that loosed their apprehension,
a jarring affront on lateral boundaries
displacing their spatial comprehension.

and it rattled the foundations of the spookhouse,
arousing the dust of unsettled fears
while waves of shock blown out of proportion
dispersed a distortion that hammered in their ears.

it ratcheted into an unsteady rhythm
jolting them out of their stupefied trance,
jilting bouncing plates off jittery shelves
like angst-addled slammers at a brittle punk dance.

as a burnt, acrid smell stung startled senses
an ominous rift fretted though the rafters.
the cracked oven door sprang open with a thud
deflating the soufflé they'd stashed for afters.


Sylvana and the bard were first on their feet
ducking under Mary, flapping through the hall,
almost tripping on the trundling watchrug
rolling rolled up in a slumping, flumping ball.

they pulled up short where the entrance had been
and Pally was prying a still smoking boulder,
egged on by the frenzied, hook-slinging hat rack
upending itself to bolster his shoulder.

panicking mammals were hurtling in
as they frantically scrambled for somewhere to hide.
a shivering rabbit pierced everyone's hearts
with eerie, shrill cries too wretched to abide.

the shuddering tremors had unhinged the shutters
and thus a terrible racket ensued.
derailed by the throes of stark indecision
they slammed shut and open, coming quite unglued.


the careening flight of the barreling monkey,
entailing the broom and bits of the floor
was crossly curtailed by a lumbering bear
despondently pawing the fragmented door.

as Mortimer scanned for flashes of armour
a catapult hurled another assault,
etching in the earth the ramifications
that spread like the scars of reciprocal fault.

Chester's presence was dappling the forest
with a restless strain of itinerant dusks;
blotting ephemeral visits of doubt,
foraging for conscience in the helmeted husks.

for even in the ranks that trample defiance,
enforcing for order its biddable train
a penchant for compassion perversely persists
hatching attachments to mitigate pain.


the twilights cavorted with the bruised, leaden clouds
assembled like threats of angry disdain,
frowning on the skittish, indecisive bursts
that bandied about the intermittent rain.





*

deeper in the woods Rashful startled Sappy
rooting out secrets beneath the ancient eaves;
immersed in the first commiseration,
imbibing the sighs of impressionable leaves.

"you missed my breakfast to dawdle in a daze?"
he snickered while flicking incidental burrs.
"i expect your daisies have all gone to seed.
ods bodkins!  what's joggin' that noggin' of yours?"

"if you must know, i've had another vision."
Sappy kept twitching, spilling trepidation.
Rashful's mouth opened, but nothing came out.
and the trees went on absorbing milling tension.

then the burden gushed with headlong abandon.
"we were surrounded.  i saw it, clear as day.
the royals and their minions.  they'd found us out.
Guanyin in a window, holding them at bay.

windy beyond belief.  and here's the weirdest part.
our Weepy was dancing with Pasty's deer.
she herself was awake; embracing Sylvana,
swamped in pink petals, swirling round the bier."

the ground seemed to slip from under Rashful's feet
as the wind picked up and he sank to his knees.
at that precise moment both of them grasped
the conspicuous drift of the stiffening breeze.

*

and scouring the nearby undergrowth
it brushed against a cheek that blushed a bloodied glow,
wakening Weepy in a patch of ferns
where consciousness had lapsed beneath a glancing blow.

for he littered the trail of dissonance,
crushed in the bracken by implacable wheels;
like innocence lost, or helplessness found
the collateral prey of heavy-handed heels.

assuming his tethers to bide in his body
he thoughtfully studied the troubled skies;
his throat forming clicks to call to the otter,
intention glinting in his watery eyes.

and hearing his familiar's timid approach
he leapt from the spot where they'd left him for dead,
already transported by the cadence
expressed in the lilt of his enigmatic tread.

*

the atmosphere quickened its attention.
the monkey scampered up and settled on a sill.
the curtains fluttered with anticipation,
coming to meet her as the shutters went still.

intuiting this billowing ally
whether sheer apparition or wandering jinn
the mage of mercy pondered the perspective,
adjusting the tilt of her contrary chin.

behind them the mirror mapped out intruders
scrying position by reminiscent scars
possessed of the imprint of parting particles,
a magic lantern channeling the stars.

for much like the dance of ponderous planets
a yearning revolves through subatomic pores
resolved by charting manifestation,
beholding quantum pilgrims sailing round their cores.


and Mary heeded the revealing reflections
patched in succession through the mirror's screen,
a conspiracy of steely visages
sheathed in a shelter of variegated green.

taking her cue from the skeleton's neurosis
she divined a disassembling scheme
for avian bandits swooping in squadrons
disarming assailants and stealing their steam.

Sable, her sisters, and a disheveled Elsbeth
each led detachments on lightening raids,
relying on the crows' infallible instincts
to pick out the shine of the glinting blades.

and Solomon waited in the shadows
assembling their bounty in ill-gotten piles;
a resurrected fence for slings and arrows,
Death's grinning comment on the war god's wiles.


*

a feisty gaggle of savvy appliances
had mounted a foray into the woods
spurred on by the broom and blustering battlerack,
all swishing bristles and overblown hoods.

the swashbuckling knives led off the procession,
the crème de la crème of offensive defense
inclined on even diplomatic days
to suggest spookhouse guests ought to get themselves hence.

the ousted swinging vines still mucked about
delving murky depths in the unsuspecting peat;
thickening their thorns and strangling entanglements,
fortifying grips for iron clad feet.

the crawling enigma that haunted the pantry
that day when the borders first came undone
poked its proboscis out of the underbrush
to sniff a stray shaft of fragmentary sun.


five draggling ears made up for missing legs
as it squiggled about on a surplus of fuzz.
and though they'd finally proved it existed
they still couldn't say what it actually was.

the irritated bears prowled round the entry
while Gropey and Mock kept an eye on the rug.
despite its having to do without innards
it worried their heels like a spring-loaded pug.

Mortimer and Sleazy chased after Chester
lest peril befall him while they were apart.
for those who have melded with a glimrin
feel a loss of harmony chiming by their heart.

Trixie and Lumpy were funneling yearlings
up the sagging stairs to lessen sorrow's sway,
interfering with fear's self-inflictions
by forestalling the trauma on which it would prey.


Sylvana attended the sleeping princess
like an angel of stone on a grief-soaked mound,
a standing Oglala before the directions
chanting her death song, staked to sacred ground.


*

escorting a fawn to lesser danger
phantom recognition froze Pally in his tracks
when blinking his eyes at the lowering sky
he beheld hell's nightmare, looming through its cracks.

obscured by the lofty interwoven awning
paralyzing shapes began to emerge.
a trio of fiendish metallic contraptions
tortured the air with their ominous dirge.

quite the same order of throbbing steel beast
that tore up the future in ByWater Landing,
they called into question compassion's chances
of basing a faith on man's understanding.

Pally's endeavor to raise the alarm
was instantly expanded into a chorus.
hence synchronous, sympathetic echoes
announced that his larynx had also gone porous.


one of the demons altered course to pursue him
flashing its sinister, pitiless glare
while something like a wave of buoyant laughter
broached Pally and the fawn in the fractured air.

propelled by friction they coasted forward
till they hovered above the remains of the door.
and lurching into reach, Mock reeled them in,
slinging gentle tendrils across the battered floor.


*

standing behind her unflappable window
the unsighted seer sadly shook her head.
then she pulled on a string from the hem of her cloak
unravelling a many coloured thread.

extending itself like a conjurer's trick
it swelled into cords its frailty belied,
weaving queer patterns enfolding Guanyin;
a giant cat's cradle with a wizard inside.

diverging at intervals formulas took shape,
each distinct as an autograph or seal.
and those nearby could almost comprehend
the cryptic twined meanings that they seemed to reveal.

like a deep sea commune of linked up creatures
waiting for debris to descend and dissolve
this wreath of shivering, living mandalas
thrived on its host and continued to evolve.

the woven symbols sprouted bits of light
surrounding themselves with an effervescent froth
as if phosphorescence was an offshoot
of reducing threads from their elemental broth.

like called to like and burst through the window
in a blue-white radiance of shimmering sparks.
for the flaming intelligence alighted
downstream from one of his incandescent arcs.


everyone in earshot was quick to deduce
those whispers stirring that sea of rustling grass
meant the hedge witch must have been conferring
with this flickering entity of molten glass.

enveloping the esoteric emblems
in his floating crop of iridescent tears
he imparted that same august impression
of wisdom predating the dawning of years.

and wafted by ungravitating currents
the strand bore its ciphers up to the ceiling
giving rise to elation in everyone nigh,
untrammeling the edges of feeling.

as the garland hung its loops around the rafters
the murmuring adepts both heaved a sigh.
then it squeezed itself into tightening knots
till the three flying beasts were parked in the sky.



*

bidden by his vision back to the grotto
Sappy all atremble trampled Rashful's heels,
his burden giving off reverberations
the way bells siphon shock with resounding peels.

though able to summon but scant attention
Sylvana collected the tide's blurted gist,
enough to rekindle the seams of a dream
with a sun-drenched missive spilling in its midst.

but chilling her veins and snatching her focus
a sudden barrage uprooted the bower,
ensnaring the bier and flower-strewn mound
in a crashing, splintering, guttering shower.

with swift and heedless, selfless abandon
Sylvana lost herself in scrawling abrasions.
for naught could surpass the soul-rending rift
of clearing that path of clinging lacerations.


and finding the princess reposed and unscathed
the levee ruptured that had bridled her fears;
birthing a free-falling river of diamonds,
conducting redemption in glimmering tears.

making its way to the wounds of the willow,
ceaselessly seeking its recollected place
it grazed a forehead and trickled down a cheek
tracing the contours of unrequited grace.

and the bloom reawakened in stages,
in the steady advance of congenital blush;
gushing the generous, luminous perspectives
of a singular, corporeal brush.

by the time Sylvana had seen the eyes open
they were clasping hers in an ardent gaze.
for hitching one's wagon to a beacon
eclipses other methods for lighting the days.


she lifted Sludge White from her bed of roses
while Nate backed into the trail of a boulder.
he swayed through the lesions, recoiling in shock.
the sparrow rode a rod propped on his shoulder.

and from there the tourmaline was winking
in its fluted setting of riddled, knotted pine.
"what's happening here?" Nate managed to inquire.
then he stumbled on a sly, slinking vine.

"we've been set upon" Rashful tersely explained,
dazedly gaping at the lover's embrace.
Sappy only nodded, bunching up his hood
dabbing at tears on his reverential face.


*

a thunderous din erupted in the woods,
a rhythmic thrumming of rustling, thudding drums.
the trees they could see were all keeping time,
strumming leafy branches and snapping brittle thumbs.

as the racket drew nearer emotions welled,
lumping in throats with the pluck of revving hearts.
even the sparrow was moved to kick up dust,
hopping and flipping in flustered fits and starts.

their frolics flaunted by the shards of failing light
the revellers were fleetingly revealed,
a procession of antlered acolytes
transporting their enchantment as they bucked and reeled.

entering the garden with the celebrant wind
a hail of petals sanctified their wake,
scattering offerings like sacrificial alms
from every nodding head and freighted stake.


the intricate sequence of steps and pauses
seemed to be beaming from the empath himself,
streaming out of orbits informing the cosmos
and channelled by an elemental elf.

laden with mirth as it gathered Pasty's roses
the wind reset its wonted wail of woe.
fleet flocks of novices responded in chorus,
flinging themselves into pink satin snow.

and scooping up leaves in a scudding frenzy,
its design divined only in its seeing
a whirling deity transcending ascendance
assented to descend into being.




*

the soldiers approaching were sore afraid
of the baffling absence of visible chains
rendering the motionless dragons unfazed
by the flurry of birds dispersed with the rains.


when this fright of stalled demons was ousted
by the towering fury it wrought in the queen
the trees ignored the withering torrent,
declining to absorb a loathing so obscene.


piqued by urgent nudgings, Mock crimped into pleats
so Squint could confide a morsel in his ear.
then all of his striplings sprang up like weeds
registering a species of rigid, awestruck fear.

observing him the squirrel sagely nodded.
"i'm of the opinion she's not prone to boast."
Mock shrugged his stems as he shuffled to a window,
cozying up to the sturdiest post.

adrift in the path of madness advancing,
pondering the march of instrumental angst
Nate was recovered by Mortimer and Sleazy
skirting the fringe of Their Majesties' flanks.

and surfacing, it came into focus
the arc of his prompting propensities in wood.
and weaning the flute with trembling lips
he coaxed it into breathing as fast as he could.


though bursting into life like the birth of sound
in truth 'twas the burden of an ancient tune.
for according to the lore it melted earth's core
long before its betrothal to the moon.

and the strains were so hauntingly familiar,
the confidants of consciousness appearing;
a rhapsody wrung from ecstasy's pulse,
manifestly what the hoofers had been hearing.

and lo! the sentries sent forth their stifled cries,
coalescing in a welter of wonder
chronicling the transubstantiation
visited upon contrivances of plunder;

that which wreaked vengeance or hammered coercion,
aught that was sought to render flesh asunder
the metamorphosed vessels of harmony
forged without anvils, bolted without thunder.


as musical metal evolved in quaking hands
the whirlwind upstaged their confusion.
a merry-go-round of rapturous wings
exulted its spin with their soaring infusion.

the escalating beat ramped up by stomping feet
launched a lift expressly exponential.
for rhythms within and orbits without
evince a oneness profoundly existential.

the depth of its sway seemed to be boundless
as it plowed underneath the surface of the ground
plucking a cushion for Pasty and Sylvana
from the matted roots it reaped from the mound.

Rashful attended Sappy's heightened vision
exploring a tangent it hadn't foretold;
careening past currents that surf upon the earth,
forced to forego its horizontal hold.


squeezing his eyelids and Sappy's sweating palm,
cherishing hopes the whirlwind wouldn't fumble
Rashful reconsidered his boundaries.
it was then that the spookhouse started to rumble.

the initial wrench ripped through the vortex,
a Jovian upheaval collapsing the air
propelling its stance by coiling implosions
to blast the sheer mass up every spiral stair.

in the gaping plot the departure exposed
leering past planks and luring interstices
the bone-chilling cellar lurked like a curse
hatching its stash of disquieting devices.


*

ensconced in the spookhouse Mock swung into motion
latching attachments on floundering friends
artfully avoiding avian flight paths,
entangling dangles, or splitting any ends.

twigging on a tactic for cinching succor
he planted a grip at the end of his swish;
deputizing Gropey to tackle his harvest,
tweaking that adage pertaining to fish.

Pally picked up on the clank of the metal
before its significance bumped into Nate
with Mortimer and Sleazy's hasty retreat
from their jarring brush with a nearsighted fate.

the decommissioned bullies chomping at the bit
to smash targets jamming their projection
were scorched by their backfiring impotence
when Chester sparked a kaleidoscope connection.


with his seamless leap through intervening space
seeding embers in the blur of whirling birds
the dreidel thus dazzled by chiaroscuro
surpassed the anchored agency of words.

the god of a thousand pendent spirits
revolving its facets amidst impending night
placed bodies and feathers, petals and floors
beyond the stagnant compass of darkness and light.

*

the next to be netted were Rashful and Sappy
soldered together and savouring life,
shorn of a host of conventional assumptions
that were formerly ever so rife.

Gropey entrusted their bearings to Lumpy
who tactfully ushered them out of the way,
avoiding the logistical nightmare
of the lingering dead popping out of the fray.

dismissing out of hand Solomon and Mary
Squint gauged the pulse of the free-floating take,
skidding back and forth apprising Guanyin
of the panic still treading their dizzying wake.

once antlers loomed in giddy bedroom windows
the yearlings took up their elders' prancing dance.
Trixie was uncovered by a bungled bounding,
huddled and peering through fingers askance.

the tenderest shoots unfurled around the empath
sporting his scarf with its wide open eyes,
undaunted from their jaunt bobbing in jet streams;
unsealing feelings wherever they arise.

and this signaled a sea transformation
as points of reference abruptly upended
with patterns of air developing texture,
the sense of direction all but transcended.



and the mage leaned out with her billowing cohort
shifting prospects in the churned up domain,
chanting a canticle that answered the flute
in counterpoint twined through its dulcet refrain.

whilst the thrust of strewn roses and lovers reversed
the glimrin's glimmers grew wondrous and bright.
then the house with its balancing dervishes
vanished from the confines delimiting sight.


*

at the last moment the willow snagged a ride
insinuating branches right through the floor
chucking its holdings to hang on to Mercy,
yearning still seeping from every gnarled pore.

this triggered a tremendous upheaval
as the un-entwining roots relinquished their bind.
hence the ground beneath Their Majesties' minions
gave up the ghost and was wholly undermined.

the weightiest heavies succumbed to momentum
tumbling into the crumbling earth,
crushing terror's materialization
where reigning absentia found a final berth.

thus consummate need collapsed in its chasm
sucked through the cellar's irretrievable door.
and the threadbare seams of those ravenous dreams
were slaked at last with a tortured, writhing ore.

and her three steel beasts fell out of the sky,
incendiary vehicles of blown back dread.
for her force unopposed had at last sunk in,
remaindered in a niche with the nouveau dead.

though it's doubtful depleted uranium
could shrivel the shade into shape shifting shreds
yet the graces of oblivion attended
and draped tattered crepe on the grisly beds.


*

eerily jutting through still reeking wreckage
with his cowering air and wavering stance
the lopsided visage of the queen's pet ghoul
bestowed on the corpses his singular glance.

suggesting fondness for flesh has its limits,
despondently shrugging and shaking his head
he lumbered away with his shrill incoherence
while shivering trees remarked on his tread.

and the rest of the soldiers were staggered
at the sudden removal of rule from above,
at the toppling of self-fulfilling folly
and the cleft it left for unlimited love.


and it's said that freedom was borne that day
on the wings of a dove through a rupturing shell
blowing on the ashes of Man's better nature
anointing scars from the trod upon hell;


surging in pangs of non-aligned empathy
a call to the living in a dead things' knell,
wresting the reins that counter evolution
ringing humanity's liberating bell.


*

** * ** * ** * **

*

in the disgruntled wake of sidestepping mushrooms,
not harming a twig or a tuft of grass
the cottage untucked in opaque prisms
its ponderous baggage of unassuming mass.


the cedars and willows that midwifed the housing
had scooped with their roots a well-watered place
so their prodigal cousin could swathe his wounds
in their weave of greeting and swaying embrace.

winding down flights and wafting rafted lovers
the flurry regifted its ambient glow;
settling blush like a sigh on the hollow,
re-sowing roses in drifts of fragrant snow.

a bevy of rainbows sampled iridescence
on unforeseen hues in patches of sky;
enticing dartings to shimmering pastures,
setting fleet jewels in the blink of an eye.

though the nannies fussed at the fledgling's landfall
and reignited love arrived on its knees
the deftly clambering acclimatizing vines
docked the outcrop with astonishing ease.


dangling their jangle of sapphire bells
sprinkling contentment on the petal-dusted breeze,
their curious twinings folded foundlings
in amity lapping from the resonant trees.


*

eschewing projections of paucity
slanting the presumption of a bipolar beast
the sun and the moon mingled perspectives
like tolerant deities at an Asian feast.

owing perhaps to this lack of exclusion
streaming from celestials sharing a sky
Chester's appearance developed the features
the reason prefers to infer for the eye.

yet the chisel of his facets never stilled,
convening his visage in a restless dance
while trembling arcs spilling dark ruby embers
proceeded from his coruscating glance.


in lieu of his transitory twilights
clairvoyance floated in on the clear clouds of night,
a roving infection of strolling passersby
with incisive preternatural sight.

Pally and Nate set the mirror by his side
sparking a fusion of rainbow-fractured light.
hence the ripples in their dappled conversation
reflected depths from a dazzling height.

and the echoes of the children abided
decanting in Pally an urge to rejoice,
regarding occurrence with a buoyant delight
from the margins of his generous voice.


*

on Mock's extensions reeling past the limbs
tugging the willow to compassion's new bower
a riot of color had just broken out
from myriad buds coming into flower.

emerging from the spookhouse trailing his pollen
like a shuffling incarnation of spring
he seemed of a piece with the cosmic mushrooms
scooting about in their psychedelic ring.

tripping on the train of his traipsing garden
while stooping to pluck a most promising weed,
Rashful stuffed his pipe and wryly observed
"and to think this started when Sappy went to seed."

crouched nearby in the creeping juniper,
sniffing out the instincts of the spindly Dame
Sleazy cradled his delicate burden
on the fall-proof boughs of an ever-growing frame.


reacquainting their subtle discernment
with the tenanted vessels escorting their friend
Pasty's familiars discovered in silence
the caress of the trees in the sheltered bend.

and the brush of antlers and scenting of glands
infused devotion in the welcoming blend
that was braided in a sanctuary circle
and slung like a charm at their journey's end.


*

once everyone funneled through the gaping entry
past the lumbering bears pawing the floor
Sappy gawked at the dearth of fallen branches
and absence of lintels for framing a door.

Guanyin, in the midst of freeing a cicada
from grief-stricken drops of languishing sap
said "i wonder if it's worth more bother."
her eyebrows lifted as she ambled through the gap.


and the empath hadn't see it coming
when Gropey laced his arm in the jingling vine.
but the nimble minstrel did without prompting,
clasping his too in that cleave of breathing twine.

the menagerie observed a solemn silence
yet the handfasting was wrought without words,
expressed in the rustling of sapphire bells
and proclaimed by the rhapsodizing birds.

as communal welling joined the avian throng
an ineffable miracle occurred.
for each of them voiced a unique calling
in the most complete sound that had ever been heard.

their croaks and howls and warbling trills
were requisite tones in a half-remembered chime,
strands in a fabric that hallowed the hollow
in space unplaced by the vagaries of time.


*

a bittersweet chill rifled through Pally
for Lumpy's faint touch possessed the hairs on his arm.
curled, crumpled hands and jagged valediction
raised in phantom welts like auguries of harm.


yet such was the stuff that fused their bonding
in the rational breach of dimensional shelves
where glimpses were burnished of what was within
on meeting the mirror and finding themselves.

"this luscious lass has something to tell you"
said Lumpy, overruling a lump in his throat.
Trixie mingled blush and blinked back a tear
while picking at frippery he'd sewn on his coat.

"your beau's right ripping. and suited to you too,
seein' as you're both so bad at hidin' hearts.
the gang of pale stand-ins chompin' at the Gait
will never replace our dusky Queen o' Tarts.

in case i find i can't live without you
try and keep a candle lit on Aethelwort's Eve."

"we've plenty of room, Trix, and you're welcome as May.
are you ever so determined to leave?"


"the old man'll be terrible lonesome by now.
and what would 'e do without me advice?
you know how 'e frets, left on 'is ownsome.
'e wants for guidance on the crooked trail o' vice."

*

somewhere behind them a query was lofted.
"can you give her a lift?" inquired Guanyin.
spotting blithe nodding on a sea-green countenance
made Trixie almost jump out of his skin.

then Solomon's skull popped from its socket
and rolled along the ridges of an outstretched arm.
from there he considered the barmaid beauties,
widening his grin to waylay the alarm.

but Trixie wasn't wooed by his winsome smile
or skill skimming skulls on their wobbling tread,
failing to be gripped by clutching affection;
adeptly evading a pat on his head.

since Mary swooped in and scooped them both up
with flowing sleeves bowed like a sepulchral trowel
hopes for détente were fraught with conjecture,
eternally flapping in a midnight cowl.

"well, i must be off."  she curtsied to the mage.
"take care of Mercy, my flighty, far-fetched gnomes.
your house is a peach!  such self-possessed delving.
unravels premises wherever it roams."


and though they'd had seats for her snappy entrance
when the banshee unfurled from sizzling crepe,
as the atmosphere singed and cackles crackled
they nonetheless stared, with their mouths gone agape.


*

once Sylvana succumbed to Sable's sprucing
Mock tucked in his pleats, ramping close to Sludge White
quipping "what hath our ladyship to do with tears?"
but tenderness cracked and leaked through the bite.

falling in with his stems, she shuddered like their leaves
clinging to the moss where bare shoulder poked.
"i just saw my mother."  the mirror went dim,
appalled by the anguish his talents provoked.

yet the agile quiver of Guanyin's fingers
awakened the harp strings of empathy's well;
resurrecting the scent of bygone protection,
encasing ache in perennial spell.


hedging the ancient, sympathetic magic
for channeling loss into reticent thaw
Chester's supple plying of ion desire
eked out the monkey's tranquilizing paw.

snug in the mingling Elsbeth settled softly
where Sylvana reattached to her post.
when Squint's cheeky tug at last tickled trickles
the shadow had passed from the hem of the ghost.


it was then that Pally rediscovered Gramps
flickering persistence and translucent sheen,
immersed in conversation with the otter
on a plump, plush toadstool of shimmering green.

in a heartbeat he was snapped up in tendrils,
surrounded by elation and awe-swept grace
while the empath glanced aslant at his familiar
and wonder made a beacon of his face.


the bard knelt by Squint.  "are you in on this?
those times you snuck off, were you teaching him to speak?"

his tail flapped with pride.  "that's only the half of it.
we alternate verse in primate and squeak."


*

as the roving deities pooled their velvet drapes
and sequins peeked through fading rainbow eaves
Gramps traced a pattern of infinite fondness
in the ceaseless murmur of his seedling's leaves.

"i've been pondering rhythms of reason,
the lure of legends, the sorrow sown in laughter.
for only mirrors composed in reflection
pose the terrain that ripples Ever After.

separation lies like the thief of time,
a buttress to balance the weight of tradition.
the space of emptiness cannot be filled
no matter how matter provides imposition.


the point of focus gives rise to the myth
that perception presides astride a position.
yet the prize that bides in compassion's sighs
by its nature cannot writhe in opposition."

the vine he was clasping curled around his wrist,
smitten with the branch that sprung its grafted friend.
"well, don't look so ruffled, me clever darlin'.
how else did you fancy our revels would end?"


*
** * ** * ** * **
*

and the wind was quite naturally taken,
clapping the curtains in a spirited guffaw.
stilling again, it asked for another.
and a quickening Mercy rushed into my paw.

*

- Evan Hawthornthe 8th of November, 2018