Magpie Tales 63d

Photo courtesy of Tess Kincaid, creator of Magpie Tales


by Margaret Pangert from the Creative Writing Circle at A Life Well Lived


Chantal was going to be presented to the Duc D'Orleans that evening. Her skin had been pumiced and polished, her hair made up into a chignon with a string of pearls following its curve.

It was now time, and two valets came for her. They placed her on a long, wide board and sprinkled parsley on her navel.

Chantal was taken into a high-ceilinged, brocaded drawing room, and she crossed her thighs voluptuously. Bertrand--fully dressed in velvet jacket and pants--slowly walked up to her. He bent down and licked the parsley from her navel, replacing it with an emerald. He continued to lick her body, each time marking the place with a diamond or a ruby.

Bertrand then lifted Chantal up and began dancing the tango with her, a sharp, small knife hidden in his turned-up sleeve. He began to dramatically tease her with the knife, making small nicks here and there on her body that drew blood. Each time she flinched and gritted her teeth but continued to dance.

At the end of the evening, Chantal went home with a cache of emeralds, rubies, and diamonds.


Magpie Tales is the vision of Tess Kincaid. If you would like to participate, just post your poem or vignette--based on Tess Kincaid's photo prompt--on your blog and link back to http://magpietales.blogspot.com.

Magpie Tales 63c

Photo courtesy of Tess Kincaid, creator of Magpie Tales


by Socorro from the Creative Writing Circle at A Life Well Lived


The girls were getting ready to leave to the Christmas party.

"Mom, we're leaving! We'll be back before midnight before it begins to snow."

Suddenly, I saw one of my girls look toward the table, stop, look down, and see there the shiny green and red ornament adorned with small diamonds.

Her father had given one to each just before he left to go overseas. She picked it up in her hands ever so gingerly and held it close to her heart.


Magpie Tales is the vision of Tess Kincaid. If you would like to participate, just post your poem or vignette--based on Tess Kincaid's photo prompt--on your blog and link back to http://magpietales.blogspot.com.

Magpie Tales 63b

Photo courtesy of Tess Kincaid, creator of Magpie Tales


by Laurel from the Creative Writing Circle at A Life Well Lived


The late afternoon sun filtered into the room through the sheers casting a greenish glow. Emma entered the room daydreaming as usual. As she walked past the coffee table, something caught her eye.

Glancing down at the coffee table, she noticed a triangular tube object, long and slim made from stained glass with a glass cylinder lying next to it. Emma picked it up and noticed that there was a place to insert the glass cylinder, containing what looked like glitter.

"Wow, this is so cool! It's almost magical," she thought as she realized that the object was actually a kaleidoscope.

She kicked off her shoes, sat down on the chaise, and began twirling the cylinder. Brilliant greens, reds, and golds folded into each other, then out again, mesmerizing her.

A voice from the kitchen called, "Emma! Emma! It's time to do your homework!"

"I'm busy!" Emma replied and went back to gazing into the kaleidoscope.

"Emma, now!" her mother roared.

"OK, OK... just a minute. I'm looking at the kaleidoscope. Where did you get it?"

"I found it in my mother's house when I was putting things into boxes for the Salvation Army" said her mother.

"Oh... I really miss Grandma," said Emma.

"I do, too," her mother answered softly.

"Mom, can I have the kaleidoscope?" asked Emma.

"Yes, Emma, my mother always said that she wanted you to have it when she passed, and so you will always remember her."


Magpie Tales is the vision of Tess Kincaid. If you would like to participate, just post your poem or vignette--based on Tess Kincaid's photo prompt--on your blog and link back to http://magpietales.blogspot.com.

Magpie Tales 63a

Photo courtesy of Tess Kincaid, creator of Magpie Tales


by Kerry from the Creative Writing Circle at A Life Well Lived


"Happy birthday, Mitchell!" said his mother.

"I'm this many years old!" he replied.

Looking at all the gifts, one package caught his eye. "Can I open this one first?" He tore into the gift from his grandpa. A beautiful kaleidoscope was inside. "How does this work?"

His grandpa showed him how it worked. He turned it and turned it to see the beautiful designs. Mitchell was in awe. He had never seen anything like it. After the party, he took it back to his room and found a special place for it on his bookshelf.

Two days later, Mitchell got in trouble for not picking up his toys. His mother said, "Go to your room. You are grounded."

In his room, he saw the kaleidoscope sitting on the shelf. He took it down and started turning it. It was so much fun that he stayed in his room and forgot he was grounded.

Now whenever he gets sent to his room, he pulls down the kaleidoscope, lies on the bed, and turns and turns it. It always helps him to pass the time, and it gives him a chance to think about what he did. It was a very special gift.



Magpie Tales is the vision of Tess Kincaid. If you would like to participate, just post your poem or vignette--based on Tess Kincaid's photo prompt--on your blog and link back to http://magpietales.blogspot.com.

haiku my heart - kyrie eleison

Kyrie eleison.




"Mother Mary comes to me."




Newborn of nature.


Haiku my heart is the vision of Rebecca Brooks at "recuerda mi corazon." If you would like to participate, just post your haiku on Fridays with an accompanying photo on your blog and link back to recuerda mi corazon.

Magpie Tales 62

"How did you sleep?" she asked, pouring the coffee.

"Fine," he replied, sitting at the breakfast nook.

Elaine put the two plates of eggs and toast on the table and sat down. Paul began to eat without speaking or looking at her. She saw there was no life between them and started cutting her egg into a rigid triangle, sad, desperate, waiting for a sign.

Paul stood up, put on his jacket, mumbled he was going to be late for work. Elaine walked him to the door, touched his arm, reaching for intimacy. He nodded brusquely and rushed out the door.

As soon as his car pulled away, Elaine would go through all his pockets, drawers, and computer. Now what was his password?


"Et moi j'ai pris ma tete dans ma main et j'ai pleure." ~Jscques Prevert


Magpie Tales is the vision of Tess Kincaid. If you would like to participate, just post your poem or vignette--based on Tess Kincaid's photo prompt--on your blog and link back to http://magpietales.blogspot.com.

haiku my heart: the vaulted sky

Vaulted sky, due west




the sun sets just as night falls.




Clouds in the kitchen.


Haiku my heart is the vision of Rebecca Brooks at "recuerda mi corazon." If you would like to participate, just post your haiku on Fridays with an accompanying photo on your blog and link back to recuerda mi corazon.

Share the Joy

What gives me joy?

the elegance of Beaux-Arts architecture~



Union train station, Washington, DC





Penn Station, New York City




Grand Central Station, New York City


How enchanted one feels stepping off the train into this world!


Share the Joy Thursday is the inspiraton of Meri at Meri's Musings. To share your joy, please visit her at http://meriak.blogspot.com.

Magpie Tales 61

photo by Tess Kincaid

It was the call to vespers at the monastery, a quiet time of reflection at day's end. Brother Augustine walked the walk of the cloister and entered the sitting room. The lights had been turned down, but he lit the candles, took a wine glass from the hutch, and poured himself a glass of St. Vincent cabernet sauvignon.

Brother Augustine sat at the table and studied the ancient tapestry. After a few sips of the deep red wine, he began to see the familiar disguised images appear: Jesus, Mary Magdalene, a unicorn from the Middle Ages. Satisfied, he put the glass down and proceeded to the nave.

haiku my heart ~ spring woods

drawing by Barbara Bash

Bird song in the woods,
A fawn, lime green leaves. Oh, bring
Me my clarinet!


Re "being a fairy," Shavonne loved seeing her haiku on the computer and thanks everyone for reading it!

Haiku my heart is the vision of Rebecca Brooks at "recuerda mi corazon." If you would like to participate, just post your haiku on Fridays with an accompanying photo on your blog and link back to recuerda mi corazon.

Go ask Alice

My son came home from his first week at Columbia wearing a tee-shirt imprinted "Go ask Alice." Of course to me it was a time machine back to White Rabbit, Grace Slick, and the Jefferson Airplane. Well, "Alice" turned out to be the office that answered bewildered freshmen's questions.

Fairy tales and myths such as these two films from last year, Alice in Wonderland and Black Swan, now seem to me a safe way for young people to learn why treacherous paths need to be avoided, bringing them into adulthood "keeping their heads." (This was the last line in White Rabbit: "Keep your head.") They remind parents not to judge too much (Black Swan) and to let their children play out their fantasies so they grow up knowing what reality actually is.








Charles Dodgson was in reality Lewis Carroll, author of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. The New York Times once compared him to Nabokov, author of Lolita. However, we would never say that about the Brothers Grimm and Hansel and Gretel or Charles Perrault and Little Red Riding Hood. Somehow we have to gain an awareness of our dark sides early on, and that is why these stories are acceptable. Perhaps Charles Dodgson never grew up himself; he comes perilously close to tampering with the innocence of the real Alice:




last two photos from April 2010 issue of Smithsonian Magazine