ALAS, ‘TIS A BUMMER

Donna Gwinnell Lambo-Weidner:

A different knight’s tale…

Originally posted on Donna Gwinnell Lambo-Weidner:

wet luForsooth, ’twas an immensely sad day for the girls and me, for upon this wet and blustery day, surely a mirror of our sorrow, it has become more than apparent that our knight in plush fleece and khakis, Sir-Walks-A-Lot, and his band of merry men wooly pack of merry woofers have been banished from the serpentine trails high atop Round Hill and exiled to some far off uncharted marinian land.

The witch hunt, for that is indeed what it is best likened to, began some eleven moons ago when, 

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ADVERBALLY SPEAKING

road to hell disabled coach closeupOnce upon a time, a hapless, yet terribly kindly and sympathetic King named Stephen, fortunately had a most unfortunate accident with his brilliantly bejeweled coach. Whilst traveling a country road on his way to visit an admittedly, beautifully buxomed princess who had been repeatedly proposed as potentially being the perfect complement for the unquestionably generous young royal, his overly gilted transport slipped into a ditch.

Stranded alone on the hellishly unpaved road for more than a week, the gangly ruler quickly became aware of an unsightly creature that indubitably resembled the reputedly Continue reading

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A PROCLIVITY FOR PONDERING P**P

FullSizeRenderWhile jousting jesting with Sir-Walks-a-Lot under a brilliant, vivid sky this day upon a ghill called Martin, the knight errant’s band of merry hounds pointedly raised their moist nose tips en masse to the wind. After an intense, yet brief snuffle, Continue reading

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A FUNNY THING HAPPENED ON THE WAY TO THE MALL

Wedding bells are gonna chime very soon, so on the way to shop for my dress I dropped to my knees (well, not really), looked up to the heavens to plead to the goddess-of-formal-wear for a speedy find (yes, actually), and was immediately greeted by this stunning sight in the rotunda of a well-known downtown department store where I do not typically shop.

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The sheer beauty of this massive stained glass cupola shivered me timbers enough that it made me want to abandon the dress mission and lay down on the white, polished marble floor to watch the sunlight play upon the ship’s lightly bowed sails and spin a yarn about a young lad named Bartholomew who had been thrown into the rank, smoky bowels of a pirate ship after being shanghaied

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RUMOR HAS IT

IMG_4420The truth about Alice is that she was somewhat of an enigma since the last rays of an October’s sun cast a golden halo about her head not one moment, but two, after her arrival into the world. The newborn’s parents deemed the glowing ring an omen of great things to come, as did the hospital staff. It was what the necromancer foresaw in the smoldering embers on the Mongolian steppe the eve that Roderick Pimms and Daphne Whetherby first met.  Indeed, Mr. Pimms proposed over yak kabobs the very same night under a jet-black canopy of glimmering stars and a crescent moon. Truth is, the two Continue reading

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REQUIEM FOR AN UNNAMED SOUL

notebook-581128_640A clean page
A fresh start
That is the promise.

Did you decide it was time
to leave?

Or did you depend on your heart to make that choice?

Were you in over your head –
unable to see the silver lining?
Or was there nothing
but a black void ready to suck you into a chasm of hopelessness?

I like to think you Continue reading

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THE TRUTH ABOUT ALICE

FullSizeRenderAlice Whetherby-Pimms’s teas were famous for drawing an eclectic crowd. Every Wednesday at precisely 2:55 p.m. the area before her gate would be swamped by a mob of the most unlikely of bedfellows – dashing princes and their chamber pot removers, knights and their nemeses, good-humored gnomes and curmudgeonly trolls, pirates and bankers’ sons, just to name a few.

At three o’clock sharp the five-year-old would sashay from her forest bound playhouse and flip the latch, a signal to the swarm that two gold rimmed bone china cups had been filled to the brim with the Darjeeling that had been created just for her in the year of her birth.

Dressed in a sky blue smock and cloud white apron tied in a tidy bow at the back of her water melon sized waist, the barefoot child would peruse the now orderly queue snaking along the trail. In choosing who would be blessed by her company, it was not uncommon for Alice to toy with the crowd, first pointing to one, shaking her head, then settling upon another.

In moments like this, Grandfather Pimms, Continue reading

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