" AND, THE COLD, CRYSTAL MOON LOOKED DOWN "

A PERIGEE ~ SYZYGY MOON  or  SUPERMOON

I failed terribly in capturing  the "undeniably beautiful" supermoon tonight, all thou, I was left with three interesting photographs for souvenirs of the special event.

"The difference between a fine oil painting and a mechanical thing like a photograph is simply this: a photograph shows only the reality; a painting shows not only the reality but the dream behind it--. It's our dreams that keep us going. That separate us from the beasts." HARVEY
Maybe so, but this photograph gives me the illusion of a fine oil painting with a dream behind it.

p.s. The supermoon returns tomorrow so I get another shot, literally,  at a better picture : )

~ A Little Magic ~

A dash of silver german glass glitter on an old cream colored paper rose,vintage polka dot tulle, old vintage tattered lace, whatever poem or phrase you desire to keep close to mind and marquisette butterflies transforms this paper rose into an enchanting Christmas Rose.

The Owl and the Pussycat

Just finished this piece, “The Owl and the Pussycat Sun catcher” inspired by Edward Lear's poem; only it isn't a pea green boat but a Blue Glass boat that when placed in the sunlight, sparkles like a sea of dazzling diamonds. Wrapped up in their glass bottom boat with plenty of money and some sweet honey, crystals are the moon and the stars, and pearls are the waves of the sea with crystal drops at their tips, a little pewter bird flies high up above the Owl and his Pussycat love.


Fairytales are made of this...the memoirs of our childhood.

And now the inner child in each one of us, once again wants to play... *~^..^~*

Need to find him a small guitar…or make him one. Then it will be heading over to Etsy.

The Owl and the Pussycat

The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
In a beautiful pea green boat,
They took some honey, and plenty of money,
Wrapped up in a five pound note.
The Owl looked up to the stars above,
And sang to a small guitar,
'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
What a beautiful Pussy you are,
You are,
You are!
What a beautiful Pussy you are!

Pussy said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl!
How charmingly sweet you sing!
O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
But what shall we do for a ring?'
They sailed away, for a year and a day,
To the land where the Bong-tree grows
And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
With a ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With a ring at the end of his nose.

Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
Your ring?'Said the Piggy,'I will.'
So they took it away, and were married next day
By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
They danced by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced by the light of the moon


~ Edward Lear

Affairs of my Heart ~ A Poem

Found this larger picture of the Mermaid and thought the poem deserved its own posting.





Affairs of my heart… I’ve fallen under your magical spells
Pinned to my spirit with brooches of jewels and of shells
I love all that is and all that shall be
Imparted upon this restless, unreeling happiest heart that is me

Words floating on air, sparkling and luminous… as pretty as a golden -haired lass
Encrusted with the twinkle and glitter of mica, crystal and glass
Love, dreams…imagine and wish to Believe, maybe a little naïve… do I Dare?
Fairies and mermaids do really live here!
With flowers and lace entwined in their wavy long radiant hair!


Darkness descending within this old house; winter is here!
Spirits of the night come to me near
Come close; be still, while I in joyous pulse write… by the candle’s vanishing light
As snowflakes outside softly drift down to the silence of the night


The hearth burns a jolly fiery glow and warmly gives call
Whilst twilight quietly fades into the rosewood hall
And the music takes note; embarks on its journey twisting and winding in graceful flow… in its gothic delicate dance …

And then begins the faint echo of the weeping and strange violins.


Summer’s wildflowers now have all gone with the wintry chill
But the tuberose, slender and tall keeps company with the curious cat precariously poised on the sill
Intoxicating in its sweet-smelling and heady perfume
I’m lulled into a false state of sleep under the broom

The owl patiently sits on the wood of the very old oak that resides in the little country courtyard
Above hangs a plump milky white moon in a sea of twinkling stars that keep him on much heedful guard
Books… threadbare and olden; keepers of lyrical words;
Senses wild with delicious enchantment I’m blissfully bestowed!
And the night of the winter lays quietly still under a white shimmering blanket of sugary snow

Annabelle 12/2007