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An Open Letter of Love
© Oct 12th 2010 at 04:02:39 AM by Cupideros




Faraway memory, green grass, blue sky, sliver clouds, green grass, bird of paradise, blooming buds, eternal love, majestic mountain, heavenly life, valley of flowers, pine forest, hazel eyes, wedding ring

When you live on Mt.Fuji, the grand majestic monk of Japan, you're a faraway memory. Everyone looks up to you, but who visits more than once a year. The other 363 days they view you squeezed between soft green grasses and through blinking pine forest branches swaying under silver clouds. To me, a hopeless romantic, you might as well be a Koda Goddess singing on stage or displaying music gadgets on distance television screens.

What chance have I to meet you, actually talk and relate, find out who you are and perhaps what you like? You are my bird of paradise soaring blue skies in the blooming buds of white clouds above me. Out of reach. So close to my aching heart.

As head of Japan's Holy Trinity of earthly flesh bordered through the lenses of spring cherry blossoms, am I not entitled to eternal love? The love of a pop Japanese singing girl with hazel eyes, long hair and a peaceful heart?

Heavenly life would she be for me. And I would try hard to be a stand up guy in this cold place on top MT. Fuji. Neither would i trouble her valley of flowers unnecessarily; nor would I be spiky forest pine needles touching her soft skin during unwanted moments. All I asks is for her companionship during the lonely time of the year when no one visit.

She could travel the world, singing, flashing her hazel eyes, tossing long brown straight locks of hair all the other days of the year. Just wearing her wedding ring, my gift, made of precious black jade, blessed by a Shinto Priestess at the base of my fortress home would be enough. Our symbol of love eternal unbroken and forever renewing itself every day, until we embrace again on this summit of happiness once a year.

--The End--




WWG--3

Ostrich Today Dove Tomorrow
(c) Oct 16th 2010 at 02:43:59 PM by Cupideros



One day an Ostrich stood on a sunny African beach reading a compendium on birds. High above a Dove flew and watched, very curious. The nine-foot high Ostrich kept repeating poking her head down, then raising it up and shaking her head, and saying, "Tsk, tsk, pop media." Finally the Dove landed on the beach close to the large book and said, "What's so interesting?"
The Ostrich raised her head and blinked at the Dove. "Bird watching today is pathetic!"
"What do you mean?"
She pecked at the book's edges turning the large picture book around. "See."
The Dove flew up a bit to avoid being hit by the picture book. "Yeah. An Ostrich with his or her head buried in the sand."
"You believe this nonsense?" Said the Ostrich, as she cranked her head around the beach at her fellow race all busy carrying for their nest.
The Dove hopping on the picture book took a closer look. His little black eyes flitted as he moved his head side to side. "Would be hard to breath...your head in the sand and all." The Dove looked around at a distance. "Kinda seems true enough. I see a lot of Ostrich with their heads buried in the sand." The Dove flew off the book leaving little sandy tri-foot prints on the page. "That's a neat head trick!"
"Well, seeing through your eyelids like snakes, and hibernating for three years like snails tops burying your head in sand. And those stories are true!"
"Oh Heck, yes those are better feats," said the Dove excited. "But no one but those humans and snails and snakes know that. Everyone can look around..."
"Have you not heard our greatest religious-philosopher CorHist's Maxim."
"I'd be glad to hear it," said the Dove watching an Ostriches far away raise his or her head from the hot sand and dash off, traveling a snappy forty-three miles per hour on their two pronged feet towards the ocean.
"Ostrich Today Dove Tomorrow." The female Ostrich continued. "You see life isn't always what it seems. People refuse to see reality or face it. If you take another gander about, from a high distance again, you'll see my fellow Ostriches are turning the eggs in their nest! Our eggs weight two dozen times larger than chicken eggs.
"Let me take another look!" Off the Dove flew circling high in the air and taking several dives downward, but not so close as to disturb the largest birds on earth. He landed again, inside two large foot prongs of the female Ostrich. "You're correct! They don't have their heads buried in the sand at all!"
"Finally, someone who sees the truth."
"Reality. But I'm still a little confused," said the Dove flitting his little white head back and forth. "What does the CorHist Maxim mean?"
CorHist believed in reincarnation. Reincarnation means you live and learn lessons, have trials and situations to overcome on earth in one form--then you die and come back in another form and live and learn still more higher lessons."
"Amazing."
The Ostrich's long white hairy neck reached down and closed the picture book. "We have to put up and debunk these myths about us for instance. We can't fly. CorHist said, 'If we learn our lessons well, we become Dove's then finally after many life times humans!"
"Humans!"
"Humans!" said the female Ostrich confirmed.
The Dove excited as he hoped up in short flight and settled himself back down still excited: "You don't say. Amazing."
"Knowing that makes us patience, and astute observers."
"How come we Doves don't have an religious-philosopher like CorHist?"
"I suspect it's because you have too many trips to take and everyone scattered everywhere all over the earth."
"No matter. This conversation has enlightened me. Dove Today, Human Tomorrow!"
"CorHist might have said as much," said the Ostrich putting her head down and pecking at the sand to dig her nest. "It's almost that time now."
The Dove stared unaware, puzzled. He shrugged his wings and leaped into flight and hovered in the moist ocean air. "Almost time?"
She winked her eyebrow, "Time to bury my head in the sand." And she burst out laughing and started digging again.
The Dove laughed and made a small circle, while giggling. "I'll tell all my Dove friends, to look closely. Ostriches face reality. They don't run away from it scared and bury their heads in the sand."
"Thank you," said the Ostrich.
--THE END--



The Palm Reading Ending.
© November 11, 2010 by Cupideros




Little Red Riding Hood pulled the bobbin, and the door opened.

The Wolf, seeing her come in, said to her, hiding himself under the bedclothes, "Put the chocolate cake and the little pot of butter upon the stool, and come into bed with me."

But excited Little Red Riding Hood said, “Grandma ma, Grandma ma” and running up to the bed placing the cake and little pot of better on the floor by the bed. I met this wife of a woodcutter. She read my palm and said this was a dangerous day for me. Little Red Riding Hood jumped on top of the bed covers and lay close to the Wolf pinning him to the bed.

Little Red Riding Hood noticed her Grandma’s one arm outside the bed covers. “Grandma ma, what big arms you have!”

“All the better to hug you with, my dear.”

Little Red Riding Hood shrug her petite shoulders and pulled her red hooded cap down off her blonde head. “Oh, I say, let me continue Grandma before you start talking, talking, talking. The Palm Reading Lady said I was in good luck because of my strong life line in my palm.” She held her innocent soft tender palm to the Wolf and he took a big sniff of her hand. “Grandma ma, what big nose you have!”

“All the better to cook dinner for you, my dear.”

“Anyway,” continued energized Little Red Riding Hood, “The Woodcutter’s Wife said, If I had any trouble just call out ‘Someone save me!’ and a strong rescuer would arrive! Isn’t that just amazing, Grandma ma?”

The Wolf turned his ears to listen more carefully to the exact words the girl was to use.

“Grandma ma what big ears you have!”

“To listen more carefully to you, my child.”

“Oh, I say, it gets better Grandma ma, because I met a blacksmith next. He made me these brass knuckles,” and Little Red Riding Hood pulled them out from her red riding hood pocket, put them on her tiny innocent palm. “How did he say these worked?” as she still pushing them onto her hand. She pressed her hand out flat pushing the air, and then she karate chopped the air. “No! I remember now,” she said with great enthusiasm. She balled up her fist and punched down into the bed hitting the Wolf’s leg. One of the Wolf’s big hairy legs popped out from under the bedspread.

“Ouch!”

“I’m sorry Grandma ma!” she paused. “What big legs you have!”

“I used to run marathons before having your Mother, my dear.”

“And, Grandma ma, what big eyes you have!”

“All the better to see you growing up, my child.”

Little Red Riding Hood, getting suspicious, Grandma ma! Grandma ma, you have huge pointed teeth!”

“All the better to eat you up with!”

And with these words, this wicked Wolf struggled out of the bed covers revealing his big hairy massive body.

“Oh I say!” said Little Red Riding Hood, jumping back off the bed. "Grandma ma, this sickness has made you big and hairy all over!"

"And hungry enough to eat you all up."

“You’re not Grandma ma! You’re a—“

The Wolf leaped over the bed and grabbed her. Little Red Riding Hood struggled to kick. She tried hard to punch the Wolf with her brass knuckled, but they were too close together. “Oh, I can’t remember what words to say!” Little Red Riding Hood gasped in between her struggling. “Fire! Fire! FIRE!” She screamed.

In no time, the strongest woodcutter of all the woodcutters in the forest burst down the door, and grabbed the Wolf and hacked him into two pieces. “Are you okay, Little Red Riding Hood?”

Little Red Riding Hood panted and wiped tiny beads of perspiration from her brow. “Oh I say, you’re fast. Fast as the Palm Reading Lady said you’d be!”

“Yes. We had some suspicions about a prowler around these parts lately.” Her rescuer took the bed covers and draped it over the gory, chopped up Wolf. The strong woodcutter smiled. “My wife not only read palms, she makes a great wolf stew. You are welcome to join us, Little Red Riding Hood.”

“Oh I say, I have never had wolf stew before,” said Little Red Riding Hood in her excited perky voice. She retrieved the chocolate cake and the little pot of butter and held them up. “Don’t you think butter and chocolate cake go great with wolf stew?”

“Indeed. Indeed,” said the Woodcutter.


--THE END--


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BookRix.com Writing 101 Advice by Cupideros




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