I found her weeping
\nNear the Inn of the Marshes
\nAmongst the miserable springtime flowers<\/p>\n
Code Name <\/i><\/p>\n
I invited her to share a meal<\/p>\n
Menu<\/i><\/b><\/p>\n
Above the wetlands
\nWith its ditches dug deep
\nThe Rice Butterflies
\nSing on the spring-wing-king
\nOf the seasons ring <\/i><\/p>\n
My lady was ambushed<\/p>\n
All stars are black
\nBut none as dark as hers<\/p>\n
I often consider the marshlands and wonder if they were really reclaimed from the sea as there is a permanence about them<\/p>\n
As the sun dipped low over the pearl horizon
\nI thought of frail cupboards
\nFull of flowers<\/p>\n
Each woman spoke of their despair<\/p>\n
Of blackmail<\/p>\n
Of an unhappy settlement<\/p>\n
As the night drew close they exchanged recipes of jam<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Sample <\/i><\/b><\/p>\n
Two pounds of hulled fresh strawberries
\nFour cups of white sugar
\nOne quarter of a cup of lemon juice <\/i><\/p>\n
add The Great Tulips of Holland<\/i><\/p>\n
and prepare with love in willow jars <\/i><\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
You are still in the construct of my thoughts
\nsleep tenderly on the goosedowndew until morning
\nwe will then explore the wilderness of amberward<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
From The Gazette\u00a0 <\/b><\/p>\n
The body of a headless man was found on Tuesday morning near the semi-channel. The man who is yet to be identified was aged about forty five and had been seen making enquiries about beautiful boys in the days before his death. The victims head has not yet been found.<\/p>\n
They exchanged gender<\/p>\n
The enchanted gender<\/p>\n
Sisters step tenderly on the divided ground
\n<\/i><\/p>\n
The bracelet still lies in the bloody waters <\/i><\/p>\n
It will not be hidden again <\/i><\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Posters Found <\/b><\/p>\n
Invasion Alert<\/p>\n
The scars of landscape are seldom noticed<\/p>\n
We foolishly mistake deformity for beauty<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Obituary<\/b><\/p>\n
In the August of the season the seventeen mortal years of Sharing Ralph came to an end<\/p>\n
He had outlived all of his contemporaries<\/p>\n
His passing was hardly noticed by the resting Minotaurs as they danced with the acquaintances of his middle years<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
In their imaginations the beautiful boys saw the unfortunates head floating above the floodline. Often it lapsed into hiding but the glow from its eyes illuminated the low mists that had lingered that morning\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0<\/b><\/i><\/p>\n
Let us explore this parish dressed as boys as far as the estuary takes us and beyond<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Invasion was Imminent <\/b><\/p>\n
Trees had been cleared and parts of the marsh had been drained. The fertility of the soil was the cause of great celebration<\/p>\n
In their travels
\nhidden in the amberward
\nthey collected illusions
\nby the dozen
\nsoon their pockets were full
\nand they abandoned their dreams
\nreality was about to be faced<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
They exchanged gender once more and wore marsh clothes of great beauty woven from the finest reed silks<\/p>\n
This counted for little as the invasion had commenced and although lost they were the first condemned<\/p>\n
Their capture was premature and took place on five occasions. In all ten prisoners were taken in the first hour<\/p>\n
Their lives were suspended<\/p>\n
They exchanged gender once more as were recruited as the pilots of the wide marsh. Each had a uniform made from rose petals and rag red felt.<\/p>\n
Although often betrayed they felt love for their clothing and exchanged their duties without cloy<\/p>\n
Release was pending<\/p>\n
They secured their release and pleaded to remain pilots with uniforms of rose petals and rag red felt.<\/p>\n
Permission denied go unclothed into the shallow water my special boys\u00a0<\/i><\/p>\n
\u00a0 <\/i><\/p>\n
Code Name – Bracelet Found
\n<\/i><\/b><\/p>\n
The invasion was complete<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Huntershomerest<\/b><\/p>\n
It was the bracelet
\nthat made her unfit
\nfor the convent
\nnot her fathers ban
\nor the oppressed frigidity
\nof her name<\/p>\n
she craved decoration <\/i><\/p>\n
A king passed separated from his residue. The women invited him to rest in the huntershomerest.<\/p>\n
Draped in deep silks they destroyed the maps of his exploration
\nand let the ashes of their discoveries drift into the early evening sky<\/p>\n
By morning the king was gone
\nin his place he had left his regent
\nnot yet born<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Thomas Oliver <\/b><\/p>\n
The gestation period of a regent is only six months in opposition to the normal nine<\/p>\n
Regents have a tendency to fall in love whilst in the womb<\/p>\n
Although in love they never gift flowers to their loved one<\/p>\n
All regents are named Thomas Oliver<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
lettertomymother
\npurpleandgreenshouldneverbeseen<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Entertainment Notice <\/b><\/p>\n
Dance to the Three Winged Sound<\/p>\n
to be held on the next day to this
\nat seven in the evening<\/p>\n
Admission Free – Invaders Free <\/i><\/p>\n
No collections will be taken <\/i><\/p>\n
\u00a0<\/b><\/p>\n
In the gap between the soft stone steps and the holy fence there lays the grave of Sharing Ralph<\/p>\n
on brittle days they lay together in the grey green middlegrass\u00a0 that hides his sleep<\/p>\n
no words are broken<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Doubtful Passages <\/b><\/p>\n
In the minds of complexity
\nsimplicity is not found
\nyou are more imaginative<\/p>\n
than your sweetness<\/p>\n
for the present
\nour harmonies are together
\nbut the enthusiasms of history
\nwill separate us<\/p>\n
I will marry the kings daughter<\/p>\n
After my birth you will cherish me as a mother thereafter I will choose my age as I want it to be. I will marry your sweetness on day five. I will be nineteen and she twenty three. You will gift us your bracelet and after the ceremony you will retire to the place of rest where you will speak no more<\/p>\n
I shall send you flowers when the moon vanishes and I will summon your days by thought. The waters you stand by will be putrid to the touch and will extinguish all life<\/p>\n
I will choose my food
\nI will choose my travel
\nI will choose my lovers<\/p>\n
Invasion is never witnessed only sensed. You have always known that<\/p>\n
First Edition<\/b><\/p>\n
You have no codename, history has forgotten your elegant name, I am aware of your birth name. Take a leaking boat to the middle of the marsh and cast the bracelet into the mire. If you do not drown, return to me and lay on my grave for a night.<\/p>\n
I have beheaded your assassin he will haunt you in your dreams but these will fade. During the night we spend together I will exchange with the regent. He will spend the rest of his unborn days here under the grey green middle grass but not before he casts the invaders out in his anger. You and your sweetness will sleep during this violence and will only learn the facts from the commentators should you care to read them You will not retire to a silent cell.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Eat now this fruit and begin the journey\u00a0 <\/i><\/p>\n
Rid your self of your decoration fair one, cast it aside <\/i><\/p>\n
There is no history, only theatre <\/i><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I found her weeping Near the Inn of the Marshes Amongst the miserable springtime flowers Code Name I invited her to share a meal Menu Above the wetlands With its ditches dug deep The Rice Butterflies Sing on the spring-wing-king Of the seasons ring My lady was ambushed All stars are black But none as […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/589"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=589"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/589\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=589"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=589"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/stuartmillerosborne.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=589"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}