We loved first in our dreams...
You reached from beyond
into my unconscious mind
and found me in the realms of fantasy
Falling in love was as easy as breathing
And we did with an intensity that seemed
To brush the very tenets of my soul
Every spiritual nerve tingled
As we laughed at jokes
As you tenderly touched my face
As your arms reached around me
And we sighed in perfect contentment
It was a fullness of joy...
That still companions me
in my waking hours
You reminded me how to love...
Which I'm holding in my heart
Until we meet again.

Writing Challenge – :)

We are doing something different today.  So I was challenged by my sister to use some of these funny, crazy words in a sentence (they are in the picture).  I love a writing challenge, so turned it into a silly poem instead.

Old wordsOn a rickety front porch
Sat one persnickety old man
Who lived in the valley
Of a town called Spokane

He grumbled and mumbled
When the neighborhood children
Would create another brouhaha
With their ridiculous shenanigans

Their noise and laughter
Disturbed his afternoon naps
As he sat in his rocker
Drinking his lemonade Schnapps

One hot day some rascally kids
Decided to play an unkind joke
They threw a glass of water
On the sleeping old goat

“You young whippersnappers,” he called
“I’ll wallop the lot of you! 
Skedaddle from my yard,” he yelled
As he threw his old shoe. 

Feeling bad for what they had done
The young children decided to make
Some gifts to say sorry
So they picked flowers and made a cake.

On tenterhooks they crept up
To the sleeping old man
Laying down a pumpernickel cake,
And flowers in a can

When the old man woke up
And saw the presents before him
He was completely gobsmacked
And his frown turned to a grin.

So remember young ones
When you have the choice
Find the strength to be kind
And share your compassionate voice. 

Unfinished Symphonies

Unfinished Symphonies

Waltzing in your arms
On the sifting sands
Swaying to the rhythm
Of the hushed waves
As the colors of dawn
Sang a silent song
Only the winking stars
And the rustling palms
Had been witnesses
To our fleeting romance

Our eyes sang a lyrical melody
Our entwined fingers
Played a symphony
With a rising crescendo
Of unspoken emotions
Our lips met…
Desire, passion, love, frustration
And hopelessness crashed
Into one unforgettable moment
Of impossible longing

We watched the stars disappear
As we held onto the night
That could never last
We fought farewell
As the notes of our symphony
Faded into a minor key
With one last wistful kiss
We watched the curtains fall on our dream
As the rising sun of our new reality
Made its melancholy debut

Nothing Left to Lose

Nothing Left to Lose

I wrote this a few years ago.  Originally meant to be a song, I had an expert lyricist look at it and then tell me her thoughts.  First she said it was a poem, not a song.  She was correct on that.  It is a poem, thus I have chosen to publish it here.  She also said it was too sad, too “victim” and that no one could relate to it.  Well, she obviously didn’t pay attention to the end, because as always, it turns around and gives one hope.  Somehow I think she was wrong and that more people can relate to this than she thinks.  And unfortunately, this is more true now than it was when I first wrote it, but I still see light at the end of the tunnel.

Nothing Left to Lose

Sitting on an empty floor
Watching the window and the door
Hoping that some inspiration
Will come through this time

No money, no career, no lover, no home
I’ve never felt so defeated and alone
Don’t feed me some kind of cliche line
that kind of fiction won’t work this time

I’ve got nothing left to lose
Nothing left to prove
Nothing left to confess
No one left to impress
Just me…

I have worked every job and moved every year
Began a hundred times and cried too many tears
Running a race that never seems to end
Begging for something that would help it all make sense

I’ve got nothing left to lose
Nothing left to prove
Nothing left to confess
No one left to impress
Just me…

But I realize that maybe it’s time to try again
So with quiet conviction and a shaky hand
I push myself up off the floor
Let my imagination roam once more
I will build up from the ashes of my life
And give my dreams at least one more try

I guess I do have something left to lose
I do have one thing left to prove
I have more that I want to express
But only one person left to impress…
Just me

rock-bottom-became-the-solid-foundation-on-which-i-rebuilt-5283543

Peace Be Unto You…

Peace Be Unto You…

In this turbulent world that seems to grow grimmer by the day, I wanted to write about one of my favorite subjects on this Easter Sunday…peace.   As the years have passed, I have come to discover that my favorite emotion is being at peace…that gentle, reassuring, loving feeling that all will be made well.

It has come on a summer’s night listening to crickets and watching fireflies dance.  It has come as friends sang softly by the light of a campfire.  It has come as I watched a sunrise from my window or walked through the quiet of soft snowflakes falling.  It has come as I lay warm on the sand listening to the ocean waves. It has come as I sat on a dock watching a sunset and listening to a dolphin sing.  It has come as I held a baby, calming it and letting it sleep against my shoulder.

It has come to me in a empty room where I hid to stop the tears of a broken heart. It has come to me in my mother’s arms and it has come to me under my father’s hands as he has given me a blessing.  But most often, it has come on my knees as I sought answers to desperate prayers.  My racing heart slows, my mind grows quiet, I feel a calm warmth that seems to spread over and around me as I listen for those words “Peace…be still.”

As the night draws nigh on this holy day, I listen to the birds singing the sun down.  The colors tint the sky like pale Easter eggs and the glorious words “He is Risen” echo in my heart.  I know He lives…and that He loves us. The world may rage on, but in my soul, I have peace and that is enough for me.

“Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:26–27).

Not Today

Not Today

Lemon daffodil sunshine
Crayon blue skies
Pale rose tinged clouds
And lark song greet the sunrise
The world is awaking…

But as I stare out the window
After a long, dark night
Feeling the unspoken fear
Of unfulfilled promises
I turn away from the light…

Too many times
My butterfly hopes have faded
With a final flutter
Over the wishful horizon

They disappeared…

So just for today
I close the curtains
And burrow down
In the blue shadows
To hide my heart away…

Tomorrow will come
With bright hope renewed
But today I hush the world
To find the inner strength
To try again…

Photo by Anthony Tran on Unsplash

Reverie

wishing (2)I stand at my window
Studying the elusive stars
In a moonless sky
Listening to the silence
Of a sleeping world
Cradling wishing dust in my hand
In simple innocence
I close my eyes…

I am wrapped in your arms
Resting my head
Against the strength of your heart
Content in our joy
Stillness in the moment
Feeling without saying
Knowing without words
Loving in silent rhyme…

I open my eyes…
I stand alone at the window
Fairy dust clenched in my fingers
I slowly let it go
Whispering the closely held wishes
Of a lonely heart
I watch it disappear into the stars
Still quietly hoping…

Clarity

Clarity

Several faces cross my mind
Memories of dried up wishes
Daydream bouquets wilted
Another handful of dry petals
Blowing away as I toss them
Into the cold spring wind…

March lions hail down
Pellets of frozen ice
Winds slice through my armor
another false disguise
Pulling my coat closer feeling resigned
I turn and bump into you.

A flash of immortal fire
splits the darkening skies

Two souls find each other
through the meeting of startled eyes
And suddenly with a lightning view
I realize in all of those confusing faces…
I was searching for you.

Reunion

Reunion

I knew you a long time ago…
When spirit touched spirit
And our minds were intertwined
There were no obstacles
Such as distance
Or baggage
Or heartbreak…
There was just us
Believing we could fight the world
To find each other again

It was simple…
Before life interfered
And we found ourselves
Far from each other
With a veiled mind
And no remembrance of carefree days
Running through the stars
Nor the tender promises
Two innocent souls had made

Years have passed…
And time has mellowed my heartache
But I still wait for you
For our breathless reunion
When with a hesitant glance
Our eyes will meet
Our spirits will touch
The flame will rekindle
And we will smile
Remembering just a glimpse
Of eternity…

Another Auld Lang Syne

Another Auld Lang Syne

Glancing through old photos
I found one of you.
One that I had forgotten…
And I quietly withdrew
The ache surprised me…
I had not expected
That familiar twinge
Nor the silent tears

One photo…
Memories of laughter
and tender plans
of a woman in love
With an unforgettable man
A reminder of a pipe dream
that was just a mirage
A memory of love
That was only mine…

I know I have been consigned
To the distant corners
Of your heedless mind
I’m just another woman
In your long line of hopefuls
Just another distraction.
Just another wasted attraction
Just another faded illusion
Just another so-called friend…

Unable to throw your photo away
It gets packed for another day
When my heart is healed
and I close that door
When the sweetness
of your embraces

Don’t hurt anymore
When I am strong enough
To finally forget…
You will be nothing more
Than another Auld Lang Syne.

Holding Up the Light – An Allegory

Holding Up the Light – An Allegory

She stood on the rocky beach holding up the lantern as the brilliant sunset faded into pale memories. It’s warm flame cast a pleasant light over her as she waited. He had said he would come. She believed that he would, but as night drew closer, she began to doubt.

She searched the horizon but saw nothing as the twilight slowly dissolved into darkness. The warm breezes that had danced along the shores during the day turned cooler and began to hint of rain. She could see storm clouds in the distance. Still…she did not move. She held onto the light.

As the rain began to fall, she could feel the cold settling in. Would he see it? Would he see her light among the others on the coast? How would he find her among the lights of the towns and homes that spread for miles? How would he see her small lamp, held close to her heart while she shivered on the shore?

The tide started to come in and the large rocky beach began to disappear as she backed towards the cliff walls. She had nowhere to go, for if she gave up and left, he would never find her. It was then the first, large cold wave washed over her. It took her breath away and she gasped. She shivered and the light wavered as she stumbled backwards and fell to the ground. The light sputtered in the lantern and almost went out. She looked up at the edge of the dark horizon and the lantern lying on its side and began to wonder if she shouldn’t give up.

“Not yet,” she whispered. Cautiously, she reached over and picked the light up. Pushing against the sharp rocks which cut marks in her legs and hands, she stood up. The light had partially dimmed, but it still burned. She held it close to her body to warm herself, careful not to cover the light completely. Shaken, but determined to not give up, she stood still and scanned the horizon. He was still not to be seen.

As the night wore on, icy waves continued to knock her to the ground as the cold rain pelted. Tears mixed with salt water. She was now numb from the cold and exhaustion, yet she picked herself up every time and stood her ground. Maybe he would not come. Maybe she had waited all this time for nothing. She felt foolish for continuing to wait, but something inside her heart told her not to leave. Not to give up.

It was in the fourth watch of the night that her hand dropped with the lantern at her side. She could not go on. She had given everything she had. She dropped to her knees and let the tears flow as she stared aimlessly at the horizon empty with despair. She had held on for so long…

It was then the spark of light in the distance caught her eye. She stared at it, not really believing it was meant for her. Yet, within a few minutes, the light grew larger and closer. Could it be…? She almost couldn’t breathe. Struggling to stand up one more time, she lifted the lantern high above her head with a spark of hope. The light on the small boat became clear and with it, she heard his voice calling over the waves. Miracle though it seemed, he had found her light. He had found her.

Her sailor had come home.

Of Castles, Weddings and Fairies…

Of Castles, Weddings and Fairies…

‘Tis time! ‘Tis time!
They gleefully cried
And the medieval muses 
rushed to my side…

Gather round my friends
and ye shall hear
Of Melissa’s adventures
Both far and near

Of enchanted castles
And storybook tales
of mystical fairies
And love that never fails…

I couldn’t resist the storybook poetic beginning. England just seems to bring it out of me. I think Shakespeare would have been proud, don’t you?  Ha!

I’m finally getting around to writing about some of my other adventures in my brief sojourn to Brockenhurst.  This time we visit a country manor (a castle in my opinion), stumble upon a fairy tale wedding, and I even captured a photo of a fairy!  (It looks like one to me anyway.)

20191108_122236_HDROn a cool, rainy November day, I visited nearby Rhinefield House. Driving up a one lane road, the stunning scenery was lined with ancient oak trees in their prime of autumn colors.  Then the car turned the corner and the castle came into view.  Catching my breath, I just uttered “Wow!” This old castle turned hotel was the epitome of elegance and refinement with years of history around every corner.

Though it was closed when I visited, the Alhambra Room is an artistic masterpiece and the story goes that a woman had it built for her husband as a smoking room.  She wanted him to be able to smoke in luxury.  I think she achieved her aim, don’t you?  (Ah the whims of the wildly wealthy…)RHI-Alhambra

Of course, such a place is a magnet for weddings and there was one in preparation the day I visited.  I peeked in the medieval banquet hall to take a photo and was stunned by the wedding cake in the opposite corner.  No that’s not a fake photo…the cake was about 10 feet tall.  I’m only in the picture so you can judge by my height ( a mere 5’4).  Complete with waterfall, I decided that it must have belonged to a fairytale princess.  It just seemed like it should belong to royalty.  In fact, the whole room seemed to have an enchanted glow about it as I gazed on it from above.  

The wedding cake 20191108_120940_HDR

From the grand interior, I exited to silently stroll around the considerable and beautiful grounds…fountains, ponds, autumn arbors and open vistas graced every turn.

20191108_122225_HDRFountainsArbor at Rhinefield

Even an old, hidden door beckoned one to secrets that lay beyond…

20191108_123526_HDR

But time was waning and the secrets of the old castle would have to wait for another day.  Perhaps someday I will return…only destiny knows, but with so much country left to explore, it will likely be just another memory tucked away into my love affair with England.

And what of fairies?  On a cold, early Sunday morning as I was making my way across the fields towards the train station, I stopped in awe as the sunrise seemed to catch the light of every dewdrop and turned the whole glittering scene into a magical panorama.  I had to take several pictures.

While going back through them, I found something I had not seen when I took the photo.  If you look on the path, you will notice a small blue light.  To me, it looked just like a blue fairy.  Had I just stumbled upon her as she was finishing her morning rounds of painting each blade of grass with dew?  Who knows?  Choose to believe what you will, but while visiting England, magic found me and with it, I found childlike wonder in the every day.

So closes this 2nd chapter of my adventures in Brockenhurst.  Will there be more?  Yes, for the muses tell me there must be.  The magic must be shared… 🙂

The Blue Fairy

 

Christmas: A Season of Hope

Christmas: A Season of Hope

When I originally started my blog, it was a way to practice my descriptive writing. I never expected anyone to read it nor that it would develop into what it has. But as each inspired piece of writing has come out of me, I realized that most of what I wrote was about Hope.  As I have come through this 8 year journey since I began my blog, I have found many ways to endure difficult times and crises in small, everyday ways.

Every year for the past 9 years, I have had the same Christmas wish.  I won’t reveal what that is, because it’s too personal to me, but I will say that it has not yet happened. Yet every Christmas finds me gazing on that one star and making that one whispered wish.  Why?  Because Christmas is the season of Hope.  Hope that those promises made to us long ago will come to pass.  Hope that when we wake on that sacred day, that we will find some hint of our most treasured and beautiful desires coming true.

There are times I feel that it will never happen.  I lose faith…I lose hope.  Yes, it’s ironic that the woman who writes about hope sometimes feels it slipping away from her.  But we are all human, we all have our good and bad days.  And had I never experienced disappointment, how could I know the joy that comes from a hope fulfilled?

I can say that every time I come to the end of my rope, something happens to give me the strength to keep going.  It might be as small as a hug to something as large as an unexpected financial gift, but whatever it is, I see it as Heavenly Father’s way of saying “I’m aware of you, little one.  I know you’re struggling, but I am here.  I will not fail you. Be still and know that I am God.”

So here I am…still and quiet, listening, waiting and yes…hoping.

Merry Christmas my beautiful friends! May you all find your dearest hopes come to pass this New Year…

 

A Humbling Lesson in Gratitude

A Humbling Lesson in Gratitude

So yesterday, I was having a bit of a Grinch moment.  I was frustrated about several things and then while trying to go somewhere last night, my car got stuck in a snowbank in my driveway.  Frustrated and upset and tired of not having a significant other to help out, I slammed the door and went inside and decided to deal with it the next morning.  About 8:30 pm, I received a text from my landlady upstairs stating that someone was shoveling out my car.  I went up and it was my wonderful neighbor.  He had shoveled my entire driveway and then he helped me to get my car out of the snowbank.

Feeling very grateful to him and a bit embarrassed about my earlier complaints, I went back inside.  As I laid down, I pondered about many things in my life until I finally fell asleep.  It was then I had a humbling dream. I dreamt that I was getting ready to move to another city with my sister and my Dad and some other members of the family.  We were all going to leave at a specific time.  I had to run an errand to another section of town and promised I would be back before they all left.

This is where the dream took an interesting turn.  I had to drive to a part of town that wasn’t that safe when my car ran out of gas.  Knowing I was going to be late, I tried to make a call on my cell phone, but found all the data had been used up and there was no Wi-Fi.  I tried to borrow someone else’s phone, but it didn’t work.  Not long after, someone stole my purse.  With no money and my cell phone not working, I couldn’t call for help.

I wandered a few blocks into a neighborhood where hundreds of people lined the streets.  They were of every color, race, nationality and country.  Some had obviously been rich at one point as their clothing shown, but they had fled with just the clothes on their back.  I soon realized most of them were homeless locals and refugees.  I sat with one of the men asking if he had a phone and his phone didn’t work either.  I asked him why they were all waiting around and they said they were all waiting for places to sleep.  I looked around at the beds that had 2, 3 or sometimes 4 people to them and began to feel deeply humbled.  It was at this time that I found both my cell phone and even my shoes had disappeared.

Essentially, I was like these people.  I had no money, no shoes to walk anywhere, no car, no phone to call for help.  I was just like them and I realized how easy it was to have your life turn around so quickly.  As I partook of the breakfast food being served by volunteers, my sister came.  She had somehow found me and I knew I was going to be ok.  But as I left the building with the hundreds of refugees, I began to sing a hymn.  I don’t remember what it was, but it was a hymn of gratitude.  My sister joined me and soon, everyone there was singing this song.  For a moment, though these people were homeless, we were all grateful for what we did have.

I woke up from this dream and realized immediately the lesson that my Heavenly Father was trying to teach me.  We are all refugees in a way.  We owe our last breath to Heavenly Father for He has given us everything and can take everything away.  He does so to teach us powerful and important lessons in humility and gratitude and to rekindle that flame to serve.  How could we be grateful for an old car if we did not have to walk and take the bus?  How could we be grateful for warm shoes to cover our feet if we at one time didn’t have them?  How could we be grateful for our peaceful sanctuaries of home if we didn’t know the fear of losing that at one point? Once upon a time, even the King of all Kings was homeless as he was born and laid in a manger.

Mary and JesusYes, I am grateful.  I am thankful for the warm blankets on my bed and a warm home to sleep in, for the kindness of neighbors, for the love of family, for an old car that works and gets me to places I need to go, for a job that helps me pay my bills, for the food I have, for understanding friends, and most of all, for Jesus Christ whose birth we celebrate at this wonderful time of the year.

As the song below says, there’s so much to be thankful for…

A Woman Out of Time

A Woman Out of Time

Have you ever felt that you lived in the wrong era in history?  Did you ever feel as if you were somehow born for a simpler time?  I have often felt that way, especially when it comes to dating.  There have been so many times when I wished time travel was real.  My heart yearns for the days when gentlemen held doors for women and courted them with roses, strolls through a park, love songs, poetry, and soft words of romance.

I fully realize that even then that was somewhat of a pretense, but oh to hear the sweet words of a well-turned phrase rather than “Hey baby, what size are those wonders?”  (Yes, I actually have had several men ask me some version of that.)  I don’t mean insincere flattery, but a soft and sincere compliment given in that moment when your eyes meet.  When you catch your breath as his look speaks volumes and your heart races a little.

I yearn for the days when marriage was still the ultimate goal of dating instead of one-night stands or flings (which I won’t do).  When commitment, chastity and honor were a code to live by, not something to be mocked.  I’m an old-fashioned woman living in a modern world and with each passing year, I feel more like a relic on the shelf.

regency-woman-looking-at-the-stars-in-the-night-sky-lee-avison

Yes, I’m fully aware that I’m a hopeless romantic.  I know that all throughout history there have been cretinous cads, but surely there must be a man out there who still believes in romance?  I actually believe that there are many, and I still hope there is one for me. Maybe he is reading this post right now…I don’t know.  But if you are, find me…I’m still waiting…

“Run to You” by Whitney Houston

I know that when you look at me
There’s so much that you just don’t see
But if you would only take the time
I know in my heart you’d find
A girl who’s scared sometimes
Who isn’t always strong
Can’t you see the hurt in me?
I feel so all alone

Each day, each day I play the role
Of someone always in control
But at night I come home and turn the key
There’s nobody there, no one cares for me
What’s the sense of trying hard to find your dreams
Without someone to share it with
Tell me what does it mean?

I want to run to you
I want to run to you
Won’t you hold me in your arms
And keep me safe from harm?
I want to run to you
But if I come to you
Tell me…will you stay
Or will you run away?

The Season of Light and Gratitude

The Season of Light and Gratitude

(There will be more installments of my adventures to come, but for now, my heart simply couldn’t hold the joy of the season inside any longer!)

thanksgiving-turkey

When I think of Thanksgiving, I also think of Christmas, because the two holidays are so completely intertwined.  Not in the materialistic or commercial way some people think, but because of the dear meanings they hold to me.

girl and tree

Dealing with a bit of jet lag and waking up at 2 am, I couldn’t get my mind to shut off.  Having recently returned from England, I was already full of happiness after seeing my family again after a month. Though I laid there trying to sleep, I found myself humming a Christmas song and feeling like a child full of excitement. 

Nope, there would be no sleeping for me.  I threw back the covers, pulled out the Christmas decorations, put on the music (quietly so as not to disturb my upstairs landlady) and began to put them up feeling a bit giddy.

Season of Light

With each unwrapping, I couldn’t stop smiling.  Every ornament and decoration held beautiful memories of family and friendships and love.  I hadn’t opened this particular box for several years and I had forgotten.  I put on one of my favorite Christmas CD’s and the familiar music brought tears to my eyes.  I felt joy bubble up inside of me and could only describe it as pure gratitude and love.

The Savior and the child

Gratitude for nature in all of its glories.  Gratitude for my own small home and the peace I feel every time I open the door and step inside.  Gratitude for each and every miracle of love I have received over my lifetime from my family and friends near and far.  And most of all, gratitude for my Savior, Jesus Christ, whom I celebrate with joy and wonder this season.

How could Thanksgiving not be interwoven with Christmas?  A grateful heart finds joy in giving and a giving heart finds joy in selflessly serving with love.  For the recipient, the act of love warms their lives with gratitude.  The circle is complete.  So for those who wish to put up their Christmas decorations alongside their Thanksgiving decorations, you are really just celebrating the joy that comes from the Season of Light, Love, Gratitude and Giving.  What could be more wonderful than that?

Night and Thanksgiving

‘Tis All Hallows Eve!

‘Tis All Hallows Eve!

For my next installment of adventures here in England, I of course had to make it Halloween themed!  With a couple of visits to the nearby old churches and graveyards, I found spooky gravestones and eerie feelings and yes…even a ghost story!

75252917_2620795168040893_3063494593350729728_oThis is the story of two old English churches and their graveyards.  On a quick tour provided by my lovely elfin innkeeper, Sue, I was shown two sites that weren’t normally frequented by visitors.  The first was a church which had been standing since approximately 1200 A.D.

Sue told me how spiritual it was to sit or stand with your back against the 1000 year old Yew tree and survey the area. She said there was some connection to the old Yew tree and the ancient roots (roots…get it? haha!) of the area.

76611007_787178365067214_5742101765554176000_n73349345_2503540293071315_9219300429333004288_n

74162065_471220457073564_4612678069973417984_n

One of the interesting stories of this graveyard was a group of soldiers from New Zealand who came to this church and to Brockenhurst to recover from their wounds in WWI.  Oddly enough, they all died here…
mysteriously…
OOOOOOO!

 

73083645_933169337059189_5116450795759337472_n

Onto the next graveyard…with it’s headstones all laid out nicely in a row.  Sue had told me that there was something about this graveyard that was different.  It had a different… feeling.  As I began to wander, I felt nothing, just the same fascination of history and mystery as before.

73413151_392697861616682_5251473409220542464_n Until I reached here…

Oddly enough, right in this spot, I felt a knot in my stomach.  I couldn’t explain it.  Everywhere else I had felt just fine and all of a sudden…something just not quite right.  Here’s the eerie part: Sue told me that she had brought someone else there to tour the church and graveyard and they had the same feeling in the exact same spot!!  Now that’s CREEPY!!  And here’s the weird thing…those two grave markers you see in the picture?  One of the former Reverends and his wife.  Ummmm…take from that what you will.  Hmmm….

74377345_706631626494957_4747965571247636480_n

I close my creepy post with the following two gravestones:  now who would have a skeleton head with a raven on top carved into a gravestone?  (Edgar Allen Poe maybe?) That’s just…weird.  And the other one I thought was beautiful…in a creepy way.  haha!  And so my children…ghost story hour is now closed for another year…

74287529_560774451338437_4655295784911110144_n

Falling Into Fairyland

Falling Into Fairyland

(All photos were taken by me – Brockenhurst, England) 

Broad Oak - Old FashionedI do believe I have stumbled into an enchanted realm. My latest adventure has found me staying for a month in Brockenhurst, England in a charming Bed & Breakfast that can only be described as something out of a fairy-tale. Magic has been found.  Boring realities have seemed to disappear for a time.  Instead I have found ponies wandering the moors, secret forest paths, owls calling in the middle of the night, fairy lights, and yes…even a unicorn.

Gather round and ye shall hear of faire Melissa’s adventure in enchanted realm yonder…oh I’m sorry, did I just wander off into Old English?  I seem to find myself doing that here.  (Ha!)

Well, it began when I stepped off the train in Brockenhurst.  Awaiting my ride, I heard my name being called and then an older woman dressed in a flowing scarlet scarf with long silver hair came flying around the corner.  She looked somewhat like a harried elf who seemed to be out of place at the train station.  She belonged in the forest with the other magical folk.  This lovely elf turned out to be the owner of the B&B.  Sue (such a prosaic name for an elf) picked me up and proceeded to give me detailed instructions on how to find my way around this little village out of time.

Broad Oak B&BWhen we arrived at Broad Oak, I looked up at the charming old house and was drawn to the dormer attic window.  No surprise that it turned out to be The Enchanted Garden room where I am staying the month.

I soon met the other elf in residence, Michael, Sue’s husband. He was so very gnome-like with his white, curly hair and mischievous grin.  This couple simply had to be elves taking on human form – the resemblance was uncanny.

20191023_220548_HDR.jpgUpon settling in, I discovered that the room was as whimsical as the name.  Fairies hiding in plants, birds flying across the ceiling and vines growing over the walls.  Little lights in the cutest of places and of course, the dormer window thrown wide to let the fresh air of the forest into the room.

I leaned out the window to look at the large, ancient oak spreading it’s branches over the entrance to the road and I began to feel different…more alive.  I slept deeply that night and the next morning, as I awoke in my very soft bed, I felt bubbly and excited.

20191023_220559_HDR

What new adventures awaited me?  Was I Cinderella waking to birdsong in her attic and sunlight pouring through a skylight? Was I a princess awaiting her prince high in the Tower of her castle? (Well, a middle-aged, slightly grey-haired and chubby princess…haha!)  Whatever it was, the enchantment of this place seemed to be working its magic on me.

Even on a walk just around the “neighborhood”, I found a mesmerizing secret path covered in arching tree branches and vines.

Secret paths

A moor that spread off into the distant mist…The Moors

 

The unicorn

 

And yes…a unicorn!  As you can see by the pictures, the unicorn (disguised as a New Forest pony) looked up at me as I stopped to look at him off in the distance.  I tried to get pictures of him without scaring him off and so tiptoed closer.

 

The Unicorn PosesAs I was taking my pictures, an acorn from a large oak dropped on my head!  I laughed and looked up. Had a forest fairy just dropped the acorn on my head to remind me of the time?  I turned back towards the main path and as I did so, the unicorn must have decided I was a kindred spirit and came to me! It even posed for me as I took a picture!  (Of course, unicorns will do this when they know you are a friend to the enchanted folk.)  I reached out and patted his nose as a thank you and made my way back to the beautiful fairy house in the woods.

I have learned a new lesson…fairylands, magic, mysteries and romance are simply a state of mind.  They are as real as you want them to be.  The other night as I was strolling the streets of London, I realized I was lost (as tend to happens there) and wondered if I could find my way back to my hotel.  Then I swear I heard my mother’s voice speaking to me in my mind, “Follow your heart and the magic will find you.” She was right…it has and continues to do so.

Was it her that shared that piece of wisdom with me?  Why not?  How is that any less magical and miraculous than the everyday fairyland I have wandered into?  ‘Tis not, I say! Thus closes Chapter 1 of faire Melissa’s adventures in Broad Oak.  Will there be more?  We must await and see what fate holds!