silver butterfly's wings,

[Crows Nest Vintage]

I dance from plank to plank across an old wooden pier, beneath My sandaled feet, the ocean's restless waters, reach out to greet me.

So soon have I arrived. Spindrift, you are my wooden masted beauty. My eyes drink in this scene of tranquility.

Wraithy whispers, Evoke such a feeling of haunting delights in My Soul!

Down this Familiar Path, I must travel alone. My memoirs were written down on the parchment that was left to wither.

Beaten by times wrath, my mind finds comfort in an old mariners tale.

Spindrift, speak again!, the soft evening breeze caresses your sails, Whispers of the wind, Moon, she gazes down upon my tranqual bay.

Softly rocking, loyal companion, fisherman's servant, steel hull shrimp boat you are a long tyme friend.

So Like sturdy steeds, in a wealthy lord's stables, the small vessel's silver hulls scintillate in lovely moonlights balm.

What will the morrow bring? Moonlight, she is beguiling, magically, my jumbled thoughts, she steals away,

Thoughts flutter on silver butterfly's wings, riding high on winds towards paradise.

Here is this world. My world, Soft sounds, whispers, Here, In my silver paradise, Come my friend, BE FREE!

I emplore you, tell me of the perilous dreams you have seen, in your sailboat so blue Tell me are the tales true?, About the telltales of the seaworthy vessel "Seagypsy"

Alas, now the wind sighs thru' silver sails, so does the goode Ship, "SeaGypsy" begin her adventures again. Behold!, so tales are told, of this perilous, midnight ride thru' paradize!

copyright 1977 Sea Sea Writer Movie Studios

Edited November 19, 2008 by Crows Nest Vintage

[Crows Nest Vintage]

Rouge and Noir take One

There exist a number of bottled, uncorked, sweet delectable vintages in an antique cabinet by the passageway. However, the brass key, its whereabouts, whispered to her by the hermit only last Tuesday as they supped besides the softly tumbling waves at the shoreline and dined on hot cinnamon spiked tea and chilled fruit.

Gleaming, diminutive pear shaped remnants; vestiges of vin ordinaire portions hastily consumed still shimmer from an arachnid's lace weavings. Shining through the stained glass windows, the sunlight transforms each minute drop to diamond brilliance as the intense bright light diffuses downward into the abode, steeling like a mischievous black cat tiptoeing on velvet padded feline feet. A secret, yes a dark secret dwells in this feline beasts soul.

On another night, the moonlight will betray this creatures long lost secret. Where she now pads silently perusing her carefully guarded domain on "all fours", there still exists, there still is retained the beloved gift of feline intuition. Primitive emotions race through the beast's wild unchallenged beast heart. Her cat brain, feverish in it's frenzied activity, painstakingly sorting the details of the encounters, as she silently strides forth, a silent sentinel to the nights partaking.

Tonight the moon wanes high above skeletal trees, the jet-black branches outlines stark and foreboding against a scarlet backdrop.

For tonight as is want and doomed destiny with her kind, there becomes a transformation, she licks her feline lips in anticipation.

Oh for tonight, she quickens her cat steps as she hears an ardent howl from nearby sagebrush. Her eyes follow the shadows.

copyright 1977 Sea Sea Writer Movie Studios

Edited November 19, 2008 by Crows Nest Vintage

[Crows Nest Vintage]

Chinese lanterns

In my dreams my soul finds refuge, to see so many colorful Chinese lanterns attached to the ratlines, somehow seeming to…

perhaps, it is the spirits tonight, or no, can it then be, as the lanterns float on a spring's delicate breeze.

From the wood deck I raise a delicate tawny brown appendage, complete with high arched feet, as those nut-brown toes pointed skyward, yeah, though now windward. Now, catch the silken breezes, crisp white sails snap in the movement of time's patient caress. Telltales arise as small attentive soldiers on the air of a storm's powerful muses.

Time, all things in time, rest, all things can pass, turn, all bows will turn, to the homeland, to our freedom. Abide by the waters as they beckon mythical sea creatures at the wooden vessel's side. An orange brilliant colored satin scarf tied gently in a bow about her slender wrist, remains,

Aye, now the remnants wisp on subtle breezes, fluttering from her mistresses' fair limbs. The wind whips up, a devil wind at that, and unties a hastily looped scarf, and so now it has fallen towards the water, and oh careless dreams, to glide again on silver seas.

Aye, now witness, unbound as a stallions spirits from his wild heart, her tresses freed at last, she muses in subtle swirling penchant thoughts.

Aye, a pose, as to dream, a fair countenance, chestnut tresses silken fair now flutter in the winds. Aye, Tears trace down downy soft skinned cheeks, tears from this kind visage.

Ancestors, tell me now, small dreams, again she harkens with these shell like ears. Again the calling, the she creature averts her feline features, or no, her beautiful face.

But what could this have become? Ere no, tell me not of such folly!

Thy now be seen from cat's eyes. See now? Hail, Hail my crewman, Sail ho, Where Away!

There, on the horizon. A vessel. Is she a galleon? A man-o-war? A brigantine? So soon she appears now no more than a stone's throw. What's this, a figurehead on her bow, white froth gleams upon polished rails? Moonlight strikes a bargain with the devil's own crew!

A jaded eye, glint on steel, a murmured oath, a parrot's screech

Hail, Hail, Sail Ho! Where away, Two points off the star board rail, step aside, El Capitan.

Join me now, a mere breathe away! Here ye, hand me the mirror now. Reflected in a blue tone reflection, lights play tricks on the weary traveler's eyes.

Could this be only the moonlight's folly on such an enchanted night? Furred ones ears, ears of blue fur, pricked forward to catch every last whisper, emerald green eyes return a gaze, ivory teeth, sharp and wary, a slight grimace smiles back at the curious viewer, the image in the mirror is feline, ah yes, a huntress soul, betrays a beast's soul, all reflected back, this image from the silver backed mirror.

Bring forth the cross bow, dare to go a hunting. Treasure, yes treasure, waits for the willing, and the crew's lust for gold lights a dreadful torment.

Again the moonlight beckons. Hark me cry! I await thy answer. Drum up the courage, and we'll strike the tune from lyre, and lute. Ye fear in the eve' in time. Strike the hymn. Steady now.

copyright 2007

Edited November 12, 2008 by Crows Nest Vintage

[Crows Nest Vintage]

Rouge and Noir Saga of a changeling Second requisitioning

blog contain the rest of the roght hewn episodes of Sable Carlisle, Mademoiselle Silvertones, and Captain Pendance adventures.

Almond shaped hazel eyes transfixed, Sable Carlisle muses at the reflections in the silver lined bowl. Nearby, lulled into her feline purring by the tranquility of the evening hours those soft rumblings are emitted from the silver touched, ghost gray tabby. Sable's furred friend is now stretched out on the divan. The little feline form of le chat is poised as would be a distance runner, as she languishes her newfound weekend freedom.

What's this! What could this all mean? Cloudy unshaped images appear in the silver bowl in front of Sable's very eyes. Just now, in the bottom portion of her pet's bowl, the storm clouds hasten away, swirling into the hazing whirlwind as if from a dream. Soft blue ripples appear manifesting themselves into more concrete shapes. Sable listens for any sounds, but hears only purring and the wind outside her windowpanes.

Here there is true evidence of a very masculine silhouette. This creature now appears to be laying on a long stretch of storm ravaged tropical beach. He is evidently unconscious. Soft, dark golden curls swept across his brow. A chill creeps across Sables very feminine softly rounded shoulders. She cannot shake this vision. How this apparition has hounded her so. Now again she responds to the beckoning call in her mollified mind's eye. Her gift tugged at her heart string again. This gift she relished, although many scoffed at her insight, her intuition, her triumps in life's little poker game. Sable in answer had tossed back her head in cherished newfound freedom, and laughed, at all this scorn and mockery.

In the vision the apparition of the male creature stirs, slightly, dark golden lashed eyelids flutter as if butterfly wings, the lashes touch lightly upon his sun-touched skin. Island breezes play a lullaby in the backdrop. A male figure stirs slightly as if beckoned by a phantom wind's song.

Slowly, ever so slowly the curtains to his soul rise. Silver blue eyes, their vision blurry at first, begin to adjust to the strengthening daylight.

The first images to his mind are such as they convey thoughts, thoughts that are bewildered and betraying distrust, and these same eyes survey his surroundings. The beach where he lay reposed contained golden sand, its texture as soft and sensual as golden sugar.

His thoughts continue. The necklace, it's whereabouts, the coin the silver coin worn constantly about his neck, all this concern for a small bit of metal. Had it been lost in the shipwreck? What perils had transpired, what of the crew of the daring "Sea Gypsy"?

Falling back wearily, Sable slipped back into her chair. Ravens wing colored tresses tumbled down her back in disarray. She arose and absent, or rather no to mention her penitant soul, she simplemindedly flung forth her clenched fist. This action dislodged and practically upset a large etching she had discovered, only Tuesday, in the ruins she had studied so well.

Tonight, she would pour over that etching, it held some bizarre symbols she had to research patiently. Her soul longed for the great freedom of the sea breezes and the salt taste upon her coral lips. She reached forth and clasped both her nimble fingered hands upon a three quarter filled bottle of Irish whiskey and thrust the bottle into her woven and leather embellished traveling satchel. A crescent moon and star were stitched ceremoniously upon her leather vagabonds travel bag.

Mademoiselle Silvertones, and also Sable Carlisle are characters copyrighted by author. All rights reserved

Edited November 18, 2008 by Crows Nest Vintage

[Crows Nest Vintage]

Adventures of Captain Pendance and Mademoiselle Silvertones

passage from my blog

Read if you wish, if not Do not read passages

Excerpt....

She paused under the old sign, its tempting glow scandalously advertising the unwary traveler to partake of that den of iniquity. The "Fallen Dove" served its

wasteful purpose with mocking glee, turning hearts cold with unrequited greed. The denizens of the dark met here for unscrupulous dealings, snagging up

gaudy dealings, and stolen gems and trade wares.

Somehow she drew her breath in and listened for the recognized signal, at once she tuned in to the background noise, the elements of sound slowly shifting

in her hearing range. She must remain cognizant. Then she distinguished something odd and selective, a pace above and beyond the dismal harbor

sounds. She perked up intense feline ears. Yes, an octave higher, a tempo slower, on the same frequency, a low hum. Again she channeled her being into

listening. The strange sound was now closer, only higher up above her head. She heard the sound again. A flash of motion and now, to the powers of her

keen feline secret ears, welcome sounds, but this time the same pattern.

copyright 1977 Sea Sea Writer Movie Studios

Edited November 19, 2008 by Crows Nest Vintage

[Crows Nest Vintage]

Good Day Mate

http://galleongalsblog.blogspot.com/2008/0...tion-ideas.html

Another excerp from required fiction entries for my creative writing English assignments, authors Note of interest, same rules apply all copyrighted and

royalties retained and contained in my estate, after the passing of my first husband just last year.

copyright 1977 Sea Sea Writer Movie Studios

Edited November 19, 2008 by Crows Nest Vintage

[Crows Nest Vintage]

Captain Marauder Pendance addendum..,

The wind that blew or rather ruffled through his fur was chilling. Wily plans had been stealthily crafted made from directives, then passed paw to paw under disguise and secretively. His mind was set, everything happenstance began to fall into place, step by step motive by motive. He had made decision after decision.

Now he checked again a call sequence, then burned the image into his quick-witted brain and quickly destroyed the precious coded information. All necessary elements and events had turned up and turned over resulting in the evening's rendezvous. For now he had a place marker in time and had to relay the scenario of moves and traveling to his long time once removed partner. Pendance hove to, standing patiently by at the helm of the mint green-hulled sea rover. He reached into his tunic and pulled from its depths a talisman. Ruby eyes reflected light from the jeweled charm poised about his well-muscled neck. Pendance muttered something rather strange under his breath and his whiskers twitched as he mouthed several phrases of bizarre speech patterns.

Something seemed to begin movements. To the unwary and travel weary eyes what was now transpiring would be deemed most impossible. The talisman took on a life all on its own accord. It raised a golden feline head and light shone from ruby eyes. It twitched a long golden tail and leapt from it fastenings from Pendances furred neck.

The necklace creature landed gracefully upon the wheel of the sea rover and turned its translucent eyed gaze upon Pendance. Some form of mental communication seemed to be electrically charged in the air and the telepathic elements migrated from the mind of Pendance through to the golden animals spirit. The creature nodded, somehow it acquiesced what had been balanced on delicate brain waves and then disappeared into the ships navigational console.

A soft purring voiced the silent moment into reverie. Jarvon seemingly melted into the cockpit having alighted from his sea vessel sometime during or perhaps after the transference of minds. He held onto full underwater exploration gear and also held up a soft black sea eels skin duffel decorated with a red star emblazoned with a silver lightning strike piercing straight through the celestial stars very heart.

So even now Jarvon still dives for treasures unknown Pendance mentally tabulated in his ever racing mind. "Welcome to home and hearth, sparring brother", Pendance recited officially.

"We are far from the welcome fires of home, although we have warm companions" Jarvon retorted.

Mademoiselle shyly understood reference to her presence.

"Let us arrive at our destination refreshed and unfettered", Pendance offered. Mademoiselle was truly desirous of a nights rest and decided to retire to her cabins welcome warmth.

"We shall divide the watch", Jarvon advised, although his eyes were musingly filled with Silvertone's feline silhouette as she descended the companionway. Slowly descending step by careful step Mademoiselle continued Holding her paws firmly upon the wooden guide rails of the carved companionway woodworks, Her eyes were drawn to the night skylines radiance. Many colors composed the eye pleasing tones and colors of this night's sunset. As she slowly descended into the lower portion of the sea rover where the cabins were housed, her eyes were deprived of the remnants of the marvelous Santara nine sunset..

Mademoiselle reflected mentally tabulating all past occurances, in her distant life, what use was all this constant wondering about her last missions. Safe she remained for this one moment in time. Jarvon was well disciplined in expert strategic defenses. His keen senses, and lightning flash reactions to sinister stalkings of the enemy would astound any first yearling cub.

copyright 1977 Sea Sea Writer Movie Studios

Edited November 19, 2008 by Crows Nest Vintage

[Crows Nest Vintage]

Take one Lei Lani and the curse of the Tiki kings.

As, I checked my weary brain for the ninth or tenth time, and heart divided among many treacherous, treasonous temptations, another night's mystery yet unfolds, I ponder yet once more to look deep into my weary soul, Yes, you ask me, a strange tale indeed. Take one Lei Lani and the curse of the Tiki kings.

Lovely Lei Lani mused sadly, here her eyes followed along sapphire sparkles. Yes, a long winding waterway travels off into the distant night, night birds prepare for a long night's journey. Their song is enthralling yet melodically touches the heart in secret places.

Suddenly a golden cardinal fish jumps high, his presence magical. The remnants of the cardinal fish's golden reflection mirror in Lei Lanis hazel eyes once more betraying her sorrow..,

"Kona Kai", she whispered softly, from coral colored lips, moist as dew on plumeria petals..,

Excerp to be continued..., Stay tuned for more fantasea tales from Lei Lanis emerald hued isle, Polish the spy glass and bring forth the brass bosuns whistle pipe on, Captain on Deck,

First Mate Belay that cat o nine, Adventure waits on the Horizon

copyright 1977 Sea Sea Writer Movie Studios

Edited November 19, 2008 by Crows Nest Vintage

[Crows Nest Vintage]

Sunrise of the coral Rose

The Romanian gypsy girl Serena flashed her eyes, and then dropped an embroidered kerchief to the ground. In the first nights firelight, her trials as a young girl would arrive at their fruition. All marriage-aged girls would show at the campfire tonight.

A scarlet scarf lay draped across her beautiful hand carved mirror. Golden earrings were tossed carelessly across the same dresser that had been a wedding gift to her parents. Sweet perfume was awaiting her in a blue crystal glass container. A rose lay upon her skirt and blouse with the remnants of dew still remorsefully clinging to its tender petals.

Fragrance from the lilacs she had plucked the evening before remained in the damp morning air. The coral colored rose mysteriously appeared on the windowsill of her caravan wagon this morning while the skies still showed purple and pink in the firmaments. Tonight an age-old tradition would be presented to many of the gypsies. Her father was full Romanian gypsy blood. Dark haired and green eyes composed her looks. Her mother was a fiery-eyed diminutive Italian woman whose gorgeous face did not seem to be marred by the passing of time.

From somewhere out of the early twilight night the ardent howls of the timber wolves played a symphony of haunting night music. They too seemed anxious.

Her dance began in a slow methodical rhythm of guitars and drumbeats. At first she slowly paced her steps and pirouettes to the tempo of the beautiful gypsy music. Her skirts became a kaleidoscope of satin ribbons as she danced by the crowd. Like the morning sky colors had proved to be such a spectacle long ago, so the nights events sped by it seemed. Several eyes caught her movements and followed her progress about the dancing flames that bathed her features.

Flamboyantly clad hosts hovered nearby anticipating the night's events. She caught her slipper once on a fallen log but tossed her head with a cat like grin and quickly remedied her situation. It was then that dark eyes followed her from somewhere out in the dark and vast wilderness.

The ruggedly handsome features of his countenance were at once turned, peering unblinking at the angry gleams reflected from the firelight onto a golden object. In his dark conscience many secrets stole away and were never revealed to anyone. Dark were these hidden thoughts and secret mysteries, as dark as any guilty man's conscience. Alas, his reverie was shaken by another quandary.

His only link to his tribe was an aged ring that was given to him as his father lay dying from an arrow wound. His plans would serve him well. Only this shining heirloom could save his onerous hide.

For without wearing this one ring the gypsy nomads strewn about the campsite were to slit his throat. He again scrutinized the bejeweled coat of arms in yellow gold reposing about his trigger finger. Ruby jeweled eyes glared defiantly up at him from a miniature lions head carved into the sparkling gold on this ring. A golden dragon complete with emerald eyes circled about the other side of the ancient ring. He marveled at the craftsmanship.

Verdant orbs shifted their tenacious gaze to then ponder upon the softly dancing tongues of flame. His brashly clad hosts hovering about were more dangerous than the sand scorpions that inhabited the sweltering desert sands and grasslands, and just as wily. The breathtaking beauty of a young girl caught his eyes once more and then he made his move.

Whisked away on the winds were all creatures that once composed his enemy's campsite. In one flowing movement all had vanished, just as the great sandstorms came upon an unwary traveler. In those treacherous storms all who did not seek shelter perished in the onslaught. Only footprints remained in the sands left as last testaments and witness.

A muffled scream escaped and fell on only two sets of ears. Across a black as midnight steed she is kept prisoner and they were heading away from her beloved gypsy caravan. She heard the tell-tale hoof beats strike across the grasslands as they sped past her favorite lilacs. Perhaps this assailant had presented the coral colored rose. Her heart leapt, as does an eagle as he takes to his powerful wings alighting from a cliff precipice.

She was brusquely dropped across a satin divan. Left to partake of her surroundings she composed herself, brushing stray locks and whisps of silken chestnut tresses from her heart shaped face. In the dim light shadows and silhouettes played tricks on her young impressionable mind.

From a golden goblet fresh dates peeked at her. Wine awaited in an ornate goblet. Gradually her eyes adjusted to the dim light.

Across the tent she found waiting two freshly plucked coral roses. She rushed forward outstretching her arms and quickly gathered the precious flowers against her heart, a teardrop slowly graced her slightly blushed cheek.

All of a sudden she heard the rustle of heavily beaded curtains. She slowly began to turn toward the darkened masculine figure outlined against the portal, as the tear drop slipped unbidden down her beautiful face. She had never been so frightened in all her life, except when she had been cornered by the wolves when she was a young child of only twelve years. She recalled that memory as if the same scenario was right before her eyes.

copyright 1977 Sea Sea Writer Movie Studios

Serena, Gypsy princes to be continued..,

Edited December 6, 2008 by Crows Nest Vintage

[Crows Nest Vintage]

Second missive

My silver Ying dog slips his bejeweled collar, tugs free of leash

Romps ever bound tumultuously over rough-hewn fence

Happenstance that mongrel is fleeing after golden tawny Yang cat,

Alas, this balance, of my earth, has it tipped upon its very axis?

How can a fool such as I have been balance destinies scales?

Rustling plumage, a flurry of breezes has beneath ebony wing tips bestowed

a sudden magic.

Alas, as hemp wrought bracelet slips from my delicate wrist, destiny circlet,

how destiny entwined its soft folds, the etching and ebbing of life's tell tale patterns, mysteries untold,

In time, patterns in time, woven loosely, tightly, they define, a manifest moment in time,

Gargled, caw, caw, noises rocks a trees foliage laden branches, low to the sacred ground,

Brother crow, guffaws his laughter, mingled with mine.

In his feathered throat he brews a cacophony of earth's news

A Stream beckons, it's ripples timeless, immortal are these tempestuous thoughts, in the air soft Grey wings,

Egret tests her velvety primaries, secondary's and Tertiary's,

Soft silky feathers Test again the air, then ignites a reflection of suns rays upon a silken rose petals leaves faire,

and stays subtle as the day as she gathers her taffeta petticoats of prairie

grasses in from a swift rain..,

At eve'nin' time, moon beams now settle in for an encounter,

Brush, touch a whisper, to my tear stained face, then a fleeing glimpse of the forest tapestry

Frightened in the still soft night, a forest babe alights,

from it's haven in the brush's soft light,

Wind chimes, a sensuous symphony delights..,

Cool sapphire waters, the taste, how it lingers in my soul,

Springtime's moisture, spoken words, now mere echoes, memories of old,

Leaves form a cradle, fall leaves form a chickadees bed,

Falling softly in forest's slumber, somber brown, and red;

Hush; sleep, my cubling, downy dreams of days gone, fragile images fail,

awaken at Twilight, softly nightingale she calls, alighted upon a weathered fence rail,

Haunting, beckons her song, how sweet though tragic it's tale

Such Tales she trills from her feathered throat, tales of Geisha girl pale, and Warrior gone, on wind's Song,

The tears of a Dragon slip slowly down his turquoise scales.

an excerpt from night reading unrivaled, A flourish of the feather plumed hat

Adeau

Edited December 6, 2008 by Crows Nest Vintage