A Tale A  Wagging (Currently being revised)   All Things Bright & Spiritual  The Epistle  The Commuters  Poet's Corner Lamingtons on Sunday

     Listen to the music of Paul Cantelon while reading this page.

   When Princess Miranda promised to marry Prince Dagar she not only promised to love, honor and obey him but also promised that in death they would not part. She vowed with all her heart that she would follow him to the other side when death took him there.

   Princess Miranda was so happy at the joyous occasion of their wedding that this promise was indeed the last thing on her mind.  It was her true belief that this affirmation of her love was very far from ever having to be honored in both the immediate or near future; Princess Miranda therefore gave little, if any, thought to her promise to Prince Dagar.

   Their days as husband and wife were filled with more harmony and joy than she had ever thought possible and their love for each other continued to blossom with the passing of time.

   Never the less, be that as it may, it is inevitable that with the passing of time comes change and change certainly did come to Prince Dagar and Princess Miranda.

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   A terrible tragedy struck the happy marriage of the Prince and Princess.    It would appear that Prince Dagar was not to follow in his father’s footsteps and become King.   In time this duty would fall upon the eldest of his two sons.  Both were still only more than little babies.  Prince Dagar was struck ill with a deadly virus and at the very young age of 28 years old he was taken by death and thus with death he passed over to the other side.

   Princess Miranda was not only devastated by the death of her husband but as a result of his untimely demise also suffered severe shock, therefore, at his funeral she was not prepared for her sudden remembrance of the promise she had made to Prince Dagar those few short years ago when she had agreed to become his bride.

     “Oh No,” she sobbed to herself, “I can’t—I can’t” she kept repeating over and over until she finally collapsed and was led to her chambers where she immediately fell into a deep sleep.

     But sleep was not to bring her peaceful relief.   Princess Miranda tossed and turned and finally was awoken by the continuous sound of someone calling her name ever so softly.

     “Miranda”—“Miranda”.  Princess Miranda sat up in bed and when she opened her eyes she could see Prince Dagar leaning over her.  

     “I have come to remind you of your promise,” he said.   

     “Please say you will come and join me, it is lonely here without you” Prince Dagar said with a moan.     

      Princess Miranda suddenly started to shake with both fear and confusion and pleaded with him to give her more time.   Their sons needed her and she herself needed to be with them.   She needed to know that their future would be secure.    Their lives already had been damaged by the death of their father; to lose their mother also would be earth shattering for them.   Surely Prince Dagar could see that this was not a selfish request and he could not expect her to honor her promise so soon.   Surely he would not mind waiting.

      “I do love you,” she heard herself saying “just give me more time.”  

      As she said these words Prince Dagar sighed mournfully; “Oh Miranda—Oh Miranda” and faded from her sight.

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     Alas, with the passing of time Princess Miranda faced her own entrance to the other side.   She had reached the twilight of her years and thus had seen both her sons become young healthy men and both with futures filled with promise.

     Prince Dagar had not visited Princess Miranda since his burial but she was confident he still loved her and would be waiting for her to join him.   However, Princess Miranda was now an old woman and she had not taken this into account as she approached the gates of the other side.   In the distance she could see Prince Dagar.   He was mingling with a group of young people and as she neared him she saw a young and beautiful maiden point towards her then heard her ask of Prince Dagar.

     “Do you know that old lady who is waving to you?” 

     “No,” he was heard to reply.

     Turning away from Princess Miranda he was then also heard to say.

     “How could I?   I can only know and indeed wish to know the young and beautiful maidens like you yourself my dear lady.”

The End

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ALL THINGS BRIGHT AND SPIRITUAL’

"Walk behind me if you must, 

walk beside me if you trust 

but if you walk in front of me will I see through you?"

Rose C Taylor 1973

   The following is an extract from chapter Six of my story 'Are we the Aliens?' which in full can be located at  Chapter 6.    I personally think it makes good reading as a short story in its' own right and hope you enjoy reading it.

.....Back when I was a  young schoolgirl I was taught to believe that we all had a guardian angel.   It was not until I had a very close shave with another vehicle many years ago, not long after I obtained my license, that I sought out the help of such a being but chose to select my own. I have since the age of nineteen been a great fan of Elvis Presley and remembering that he played the part of a racing driver in one of his movies I called upon him to take over and teach me how to drive.    As Elvis had passed away by the time of my near accident it was not an impossible request.   I had for many years after the death of my late father-in-law, who had been an Accountant, called on him for help when I was experiencing difficulties with many of the large financial reconciliation's I would be working on. Since calling on Elvis for assistance in my driving I am happy to say that to this day I am more alert as a driver and to date have avoided any major collisions.

   My involvement with the spiritual world has been varied.

   When I was pregnant with my third child I woke up one night to see a small girl of a about five years old dressed in a white nightdress with a candle in her hand standing at the end of my side of the bed.   She then proceeded to walk right up to me before her image disappeared.   The next morning I announced we were going to have a girl—I had already given birth to two boys—and yes I did. I was not shaken by this vision but I must admit the father of my soon to be born daughter was.

   There are those who might interpret the visit by the small child as a prelude to an act of re-incarnation, however, as I have already said previously I do not follow that line of thought but prefer to accept her appearance as a message, that message being I would give birth to a baby girl.

   During my lifetime I have on several occasions been the last person to speak to someone before they have died so I am not phased when the spirits of those I have known while they lived on earth choose to visit me.

   When my girlfriend of childhood years visited me from New Zealand where we were both born and grew up together I spoke with her of her mothers death and was able to relate to her the exact time and day it took place.   I had not known the precise details from either previous correspondence or telephone conversations with my friend regarding her intended trip to Australia but had had a visit from the spirit of her mother one night and was curious to confirm if the spiritual meeting I had experienced coincided with the actual death of her mother.

   During my late thirties I became friendly with a beautiful young girl where I was employed.   We became good friends and my children adored her.   However, her life was to be short as she was diagnosed as having cervical cancer. I spent many weeks visiting her at the various hospitals she was admitted to and because her family lived in the country and did not visit her the nursing staff assumed I was her mother.   When she passed away they rang me to say that they would have her laid out for me and for me to come to the hospital.

   As her family chose to have her cremated I did not attend her funeral. I am not a believer in cremation and also could not bring myself to witness such an event.

   Some weeks after her death I awoke to see her spirit lying beside me—she was clutching one of the teddy bears that used to adorn her bed. Now, attending her needs during her illness had been very demanding and I knew that I could do no more for her, so, I picked her up and passed her completely over me and put her on the floor beside the bed and said "No ....... I can no longer help you - you have to leave me be."   I know this incident may sound harsh to some but I instinctively knew that I had to be in control of the situation and the best help I could give her was to say a prayer for her. I offered a ‘Hail Mary’ for her and immediately felt resolved of any further obligation.

   Among one of my favourite encounters with the other side was when a very good friend of mine, who died at the age of 21 of a heart attack, visited me in a dream and took me by the hand and showed me Heaven.   The beauty of it was such that there are times when I am out driving in the country that I can’t help hope that I might find it here on earth

   The line between the world of the spirits and the world of Astral Travel would have to be a very fine one but from my observations I would have to say that in order to enter one world you must learn to cross over that line and that is when your journey starts to take flight.   There are many on the other side who are unknown to you who will seek you out to use you as a medium solely for their own reasons with no regard for your purpose for being there.   When you are able to Astral Travel uninterrupted by spirits trying to hinder you, your own spirit will be free to reach the places and people who seek to communicate with you.

   I have experienced many disturbed periods of sleep by unknown spirits trying to invade my bed or the space surrounding it.   I have learnt to banish them while sleeping but must admit it took years of practice to accomplish this.   To believe that there is no afterlife, a belief held firmly by the skeptics, would rob me of my journeys with the unknown and pass them off as mere hallucinations.   To pronounce upon my passing to the other side my spirit as null and void would mock my very existence and the soul I acquired at birth.

   In the stillness of the moment does not the breath of wind we feel when facing the next crossroad of our lives urge us towards the direction we should take?   Does the soaring of a star across the room you are sitting in, while quietly meditating on the events of your day, have to be passed off as a mere flight of fancy?   If you have felt the wind like I have and experienced the guidance of your own special star then I would have to say that you too are in tune with the ethereal beauty that radiates from ‘All things Bright and Spiritual’.

   I am often asked how old am I and when was I born? My favourite reply is that I was born ten thousand years ago and then ask the enquirer have they read the story of The Wandering Jew—if they have I then add "I am his sister!"....

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THE EPISTLE

   It's only 5 minutes up the road" he said.   I walked beside him eager to get to the cafe, this was the night we had all been waiting for and time spent walking was less time to be had by all of us in his presence.   

   Talking to Michael on my own for only the second time, was not as easy as when we were all in class, but by the time we reached our destination I was feeling a lot more relaxed and once we were inside the warm cafe and all seated at the long table I knew it was going to be a good night. 

Originally about 12 pupils had joined the creative writing class eleven weeks ago.   To-night only 8 of us were present.   With Michael and the school's co-ordinator that made 10.   I like that number - it is strong yet embracing and that is Michael........

Writing can be funny, sad or anywhere in between - 

Writing can be gentle, harsh or somewhere in the middle -

Writing can be poetic, down to earth or straight along the road -

   Writing is frustration wrenched from deep within, words are tossed around like a good French Salad until they become the perfect gourmet we all want to be able to serve.   But no gourmet can ever be as satisfying as the one written.

   My hunger to-night was to be satisfied both ways.   As I downed the different delights placed in front of me during the night, and I listened to the stories being read I knew I had seen and heard it all before.   We were no longer a mixture of people from different walks of life, we were great masters of art, long dead, spirited together by our very being there and the magic of writing itself........

The table was solid thick oak - 

The glasses were heavy pewter mugs -

The plates were long wooden platters -

   The remains on which lay oven fresh bread and strong smelling cheese -

   Each story teller had a treasure to tell .........

Some were pretty and picturesque -

Some were poetic, soft and warm -

Some were raw, gutsy and grotesque -

And some were humorous and written in jest -

   As the night progressed each one of us brought forth work hidden.   Suddenly everybody was swamping Michael with ideas and stories he never dreamed would be produced.   "Oh Michael - without your never failing patience and talented guidance none of us would have and I would not be to-night writing this Epistle."

   Now it was Michael's turn to have his hunger satisfied and as he sat over our works, I saw him sitting close by the glowing embers of the Inn's fireplace.

   No coaches and horses awaited us as we left the cafe and as we made our way back to our cars I made my way back to reality but with a determination, along with all my classmates, to bring more fruits of life to Michael from our tables of creative writing.

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THE COMMUTERS    

1st Commuter: 

How's your brother in law - still a lazy no good bum?

2nd Commuter:

Lazy!! he's so lazy he wouldn't even open the door of opportunity if it knocked.

1st C - 

Yeah I know the type expects it to be opened with an electronic eye.

2nd C - 

Talking of electronics have you seen the new girl in the modeling dept?

1st C - 

You mean the blonde one?

2nd C - 

Yeah Susie - boy a bikini on her is like a computer it eliminates a great deal of guesswork.

1st C -

Yeah - I hear Smithy's thinking of getting married.

2nd C -

Never - he wouldn't marry a girl on $75.00 a week.

1st C - 

Didn't you hear he's found one who's earning twice that much. 

2nd C - 

Yeah what she like?

1st C -

Well I hear she believes in reincarnation - she claims she's only 35 but keeps remembering things that happened 45 years ago.

2nd C -

Well he always was the sort of man who would propose to a girl under a light he wouldn't even pick out a suit by.

1st C -

Yeah I guess he'll find out soon enough that marriage is like taking a bath - once you get into it and get used to it you find it's not so hot.

2nd C -

Well I hope he doesn't end up like my no good bum brother in law. Whenever he runs short of money he has to phone his wife's secretary to get her to ask his wife if he can have an advance on his next months allowance.

1st C -

Still married to that foreign speaking girl is he?

2nd C -

Yeah like he says when money talks nobody minds its accent.

1st C -

Yeah I heard he's got a sense of humor

2nd C -

A sense of humor huh!!   He'd laugh at something that happened to you which would make him sore if it happened to him.

1st C -

Yeah like the time he went to the dentist to have a tooth pulled and he fought so much under the gas he ended up in hospital bandaged from head to toe and you had to go and tell him the dentist pulled out the wrong one.

   Train pulls in and the two commuters emerge off

1st C -

I sure like these early morning trips to work on the train their so peaceful.

2nd C -

Yeah you don't have to listen to women gossiping and all that -

1st C - YEAH !!!!!

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POET'S CORNER

Summer Sun

Oh Bright and Gentle Summer Sun I welcome you each day   

You caress me like a lover and beckon me your way

You come to me each morning  and kiss my sleep filled eyes  

The nearness of your presence gives pleasure as I rise

You lead me to the water's edge

You coax me to the Sea

You are my constant silent friend

Yet leave me feeling free

Oh Bright and Gentle Summer Sun your time has come to set 

and as you go I take with me a warmth I shan't forget.

Bu Wait - You say there's more to feel and do I hear you laugh?  

Have I been blinded by your light? 

Were you my Summer Love?

Turning of Time

Yesterday I saw a baby born all cuddly and brand spanking new

and as I held him I shed a tear for time was turning him into a child

But I should not feel sad for I was once a baby too.

Yesterday I watched a small child play with toy soldiers colored red, white and blue

and as he played I shed a tear for time was turning him in to a youth

But I should not feel sad for I was once a child too

Yesterday I saw a youth study his head bathed in sweat like dew

and as he studied I shed a tear for time was turning him into a man.

But I should not feel sad for I was once a youth too

Yesterday I watched a young man climb reaching high to catch a star or two

and as he climbed I shed a tear for time was turning him into an old man

But I should not feel sad for I was once a young man too

Yesterday I heard an old man cry—It's not surprising old men often do

and as he cried I shed a tear for time had stopped turning on for him

But now I do feel sad for time is running out on me too

"And what of you have you been there or is your time still to come?

Alas my friend if you don't know then time can't beat your drum."

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Australian Political Special

Lamingtons on Sundays

   Once upon a time, there was a place far away—yet one could say not so far away, although it once was described as the a≠se end of the world by one who thought himself above the rest of the people. However, a long time ago—or maybe not such a long time ago this individual was known to have received a kick up his own a≠se.  At about the same time this far away place was also described as a banana republic which today does not make sense to the people considering the price they were more recently asked to pay for just one banana.

   At the present the not so young commander of this not so far away place, sometimes referred to as “The devil in disguise”, yet unanimously acknowledged by many as a very clever and wise commander was being challenged by the not so old alternative contender commonly acknowledged as being “Holier than thou art.”

   Each day, the not so old alternative contender, would send out his herd of followers to deliver to the people his current list of goodies he would be offering them if they gave him their support.  Each day the list grew larger and larger until one day those faithful to the not so young commander started to ask “Will we also be getting Lamingtons on Sundays?”

   In the meantime the loyal followers of the not so young commander started to question would these very same lamingtons lose their culinary appeal by becoming very stale too quickly.  Surely, they did not want their fate to turn into another very old time tradition of being told “Let them eat cake.”

   Now the moral of this story is “Could not the devil we know be far better than the one we don’t?” 

Rose C Taylor (11/09/2007)    

Are we the aliens? invite you to visit the

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alien2324au@yahoo.com.au