A Celebration of #Harmony #Family and #Friendship

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Summerfest III

As the seasons shifted , the fey of the light gathered together for a celebration of color and brightness. They dressed in glittering, bejeweled costumes; decorated their homes with sparkling lanterns, filled their porches and gardens with fresh fruit, crisp garden vegetables, sweet baked treats and sugary indulgences for any passerby to enjoy, and played a multitude of musical instruments in a discordant symphony of jubilant sound.

Summerfest 1

Parading along the avenues from home to home in dancing, fluttering, gleeful revelry, fey of all ages delighted in the company of their friends and family while eating and drinking the sweet temptations of the season, and at the end of the evening’s festivities, all fey, young and old, joined together to venerate the passing of the Season of Light.

Summer Triangle Thru Trees

They gathered in the Clearing of the Stars, where the forest canopy contracted and one could gaze up, out of the forest, into the glittering night sky enchanted by the glowing moon and the sparkling stars overhead. Together, they began the incantation of the changing seasons led by their village Celebrant, their voices subdued and solemn after a full day of laughing and singing. They paced through the intricate dance which marked the ending of the growing and gathering seasons and the beginning of the season of cold darkness with austerity.  Bowing, pausing, stepping, clapping, pausing, clasping hands, passing, turning, pausing, releasing, taking to wing, alighting and repeating until the midnight horns rang through the clear, cold night air. The sharp tones signaled more than just the ending of the day; they heralded a somberness that descended upon the village as silently as the first winter snow.

No longer would the days be warm and bright; they would be cold and bleak. No longer would the shushing of emeraldine leaves and the luscious scent of flowers fill the air; there would be only the creaking and groaning of barren branches in the icy gales of winter. No longer would the songs of thrush and cicada ring through the canopy overhead; there would only be silence and the scrunching of snow underfoot.

*** It is the time of year when the Fey of the Light celebrate and Honour the Sweet Joy of Harmony, Family and Friendship, I wanted to share this excerpt from Dark Fey The Reviled.****

~Morgan~
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Beautiful photographs found on: redbubble.com-, c2.staticflickr.com, gibbsfarm.net, widehdwalls.com and amazingsky.net

FIND The Reviled here:

Dark Fey The Reviled on Amazon/Kindle: https://www.amazon.com/Reviled-Dark-Fey-Book-ebook/dp/B00RZMVNQQ
Dark Fey The Reviled on Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Dark-Fey-Reviled- Cynthia-Morgan/dp/1505413230

Impressions – #DailyMeditations for #HarmoniousLiving

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Gothic

What you Think about Another,
Will be Reflected in How You Treat Them
Love Each as your Brother, As Your Mother,
And Kindness from Your Love will Stem.

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Harmony Blossoms when we Look at another and See ourselves.

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Take each step upon the Path of Life with the Intent to Smile
and Harmony will Light your way.

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Reach with Hands that seek to Give
and
Abundance will Fill your world.

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~Morgan~
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Beautiful Photograph found on Pinterst.

Slithers – #Dark #Halloween #FlashFiction

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Shadows slithered along the deserted alleyway like writhing serpents. I stepped carefully, watching the darkened corners with the penetrating gaze of a terrified animal. Somewhere in the midst of the gloom, the one I sought had hidden himself and coming upon him unawares was perilous in the extreme. Dark tides of time washed across my path, marooning me in a vast ocean of treacherously flickering streetlights. Echoes of the night reverberated down the damp walls lining the backstreet, their shudders mirroring my own as I crept forward with deliberate stealth. A few additional paces and I’d be free, released from the harrowing confinement like a dove set to soar and my heartbeat quickened in anticipation.

It was not to be.

In that brief moment, everything turned upside down. Panic pushed the bounds of my mental and physical limits. Unparalleled terror pitched me into a frenzy of flailing limbs and earsplitting shrieks that scathed through the night like a reprise of the days of Jack the Ripper. I was the embodiment of horror, held captive by the icy grip of fear.

In the chaos, the tarantula crept from beneath a shadow leaching across my path, looked up at me and laughed.

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~Morgan~

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Beautiful Photograph is : Alley_on_a_Foggy_Night_by_jheintz21

Periphery – #Halloween #100WordStories #FlashFiction

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She stood beyond the borders of periphery; a figment of possibility whispering on the shifting tides. Immersed in shadows, she was less than ethereal; an unremembered thought, waiting. Existing in the place between reality and the beyond, she was less than a sigh; more transitory than the fleeting light of evening. No sound escaped her as she gazed with solemnity at the darkness leaking into the void she occupied. Its inexorable progression mirrored the panic welling within while a scream more horrific than that ebon nothingness pierced her unmoving chest.

Light was gone. All that remained was darkness.

And Silence.

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~Morgan~

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Image found on Google. Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original photographer. Thank You~

#Halloween #FlashFiction – Grave Choice

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Cemetary_stock_7_by_Tigg_stock

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Weariness overcame me. Darkness spiraled up from the pit of my stomach, engulfing me, pulling me under, surrounding me. I struggled against it, trying to breath in the suffocating murk, but, like a hypnotic spell, I could not resist the tugging blackness encroaching on my thoughts. Sleep leapt upon me, like a tigress with claws bared, sinking them into my flesh, penetrating deeply, inescapable.

Quiet. Blackness. Sinking. Strange sensations scathed over me. Heaviness. Lightness. Breaking through. Crashing in. Calm tranquility mixed with ethereal panic that left me searching the dimness frantically, but for what I did not know. Light? Breath? Heartbeat?

All was silent. All was Dim.

Fear crashed in on me; a thousand boulders tumbling on my body from out of the dingy night sticking to me, pounding over me without mercy and without ceasing, yet I did not fall. There was no pain, only fear devouring me in the darkness. Echoes of thought whispered from the ebon vastness around me; voices once so bright, filled with life, now empty, hollow, soundless.

What happened to the life that was inside me? Where did my vibrancy go? Try as I might, I could not draw a single breath and the sensation of existing without it was terrifying. Brackish water sloshed around my feet, pouring in from the edges of the darkness, splashing upwards in a slow, inescapable progression; yet my feet felt nailed to the place where I stood. Unable to run, I searched the emptiness around me, horrified to watch the slogging water sucking upward around me, encasing me in icy coldness.

Where was the Light? Wasn’t there a Tunnel of Light? What happened to all the preaching and teaching and reaching from Heaven? Shadows began to move in the deep darkness, slinking towards me in a haze that filled me with dread. Sounds like ravenous animals gnawing bones began to filter through to me. Screeches and cackles more horrendous in sound than any tale from the crypt I had ever heard. Insidious laughter mocked my struggles as I fought to escape the unrelenting icy embalmment closing around me.

Then all went silent as a single voice spoke from the darkness staining itself crimson over my head. I listened, aghast at the familiarity of the tone and inflection. It was my own voice. It was me, speaking out of the past to haunt my own soul and as I listened, bitter tears slipped down my pallid cheeks, falling into the freezing water encircling my chest, my neck, sloshing upward over my chin, my nose, consuming me.

“I have everything I could ever want or need. I’ve got more money than I know what to do with, more influence than I know how to use, and more friends than I can count. ……………
What do I need God for?”

~Morgan~

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Stirring Image by: ariagne-stock at deviantart.com

#Free #Epic #YA #Fantasy – #Book #Spotlight

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Stop by and discover my Introduction to the #DarkFey #Trilogy, an #epic #YA #Fantasy that shares more than imaginative new realms, languages, and characters that are completely relatable. Dark Fey reaches into the darkness to unveil a story based on horrors of our own reality. It relates a tale that reminds us that the power of hope and the magic of #forgiveness can change the world.

https://celthric.com/dark-fey-trilogy-cynthia-a-morgan-2/

Dark Fey The Reviled Free…for a limited time❣

Visit Sci-Fi Fantasy Book Promotions at https://celthric.com/ to discover more indie authors and their amazing work.

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~Morgan ~

#Guest #Blogger on BnV – #Authors #poets and #Editorial #Writers

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Hello fellow #Authors, #Poets and #Bloggers 😊

With some major revisions planned for Dark Fey (Exciting!) and the holidays approaching, I am planning some social media downtime through the new year. During the ‘radio silence’ I will have opportunities for #GuestBloggers on www.booknvolume.com !

With over 18K followers, this may be a chance for you to gain a few more interested views and direct potential readers towards your work. I am looking for unique content. I’d love editorial articles that might link a current movie, television series or book with your work, but will also accept character spotlights, or book summaries. I can provide more details if you’re interested.

Thanks so much

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~Morgan ~

The Kalis Experiments- A #Sci-Fi #Fantasy #Steampunk #Mystery Epic #Read!

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The Kalis Experiments (Tides Book 1) Kindle Edition

by R.A. Fisher

Syrina is a Kalis: a master of disguise, assassin, and spy. Her kind has served the High Merchants’ Syndicate for a thousand generations.

She receives a surprising gift from her master, and she realizes something isn’t right. The High Merchants don’t do anything without a reason.

When things don’t add up in an otherwise normal investigation, she follows the trail to the steam-powered city of Fom. There, she learns of a machine that could end civilization a second time.

Will Syrina stave off disaster, or seek revenge?

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My 5-Star Review:

An absorbing Sci-Fi/Fantasy/Steampunk/ mystery saga that makes me wish for a T.V. Series!

The Kalis Experiments, Book One Tides, has opened a brand-new world of Sci-Fi adventure.  The world building is immaculate, in-depth, and so original I found myself re-reading entire chapters just to fully appreciate all the subtle details and intricacies R.A Fisher has woven into his exceptional tale. The main character is equally unique, well-conceived, and thoughtfully introduced, allowing readers to identify with her despite her alien nature.

Thoroughly enjoyable and written with a likable prose style, I am eager to see where the author takes the story through the rest of the series.

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Biography

Robert Fisher has lived in Hiroshima, Japan with his wife and five-year-old son since 2015, where he occasionally teaches English, writes, and pretends to learn Japanese. Before that he lived in Vancouver, Canada where he worked in the beer industry and mostly just cavorted about, getting into trouble and eating Thai food.

He placed fourth in The Vancouver Courier’s literary contest with his short story The Gift, which appeared in that paper on February 20, 2009. His science fiction novella The God Machine was published by Blue Cubicle Press in 2011 under the name Robert Fisher.

He has been trying to write stories since he was four years old

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~Morgan~

Breath of Yesterday- #spirituality #poetry of the #naturalworld

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Breath of Yesterday

Whispering Tomorrow

Shadows of Eternity

Breathing sorrow

Ethereal Whispers

Summoning shades

Of Eternity Breathing

While Yesterday fades.

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~Morgan ~

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Beautiful original photograph found on Pinteres . Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to the original photographe . Thank you ~

#Autumn Whispering- #Poetry & #Photography of the #NaturalWorld

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Shades of Autumn, Whispering

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Whispers of Summer, Lingering

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Lingering Reminders, Beckoning

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Beckoning Glimmers, Lilting

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Lilting Hues, Dancing

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Dancing Splendor, Shimmering

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Shimmering Autumn, Whispering

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~Morgan~

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Beautiful Original Photography by:
Tammy Hughes
Nella Pascal
Roeselien Raimond

Others found on Pinterest.  Credit Gratefully Acknowledged to ALL the Gifted Photographers.  Thank You~

 

 

Spanking the Pomegranate – #Phraseology & #Language

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Pomegranate

I cannot speak for other languages as I do not know any others fluently, (unless you are including Dlalth, but since that is one I made up myself for my story Dark Fey, it really doesn’t count) but the English language is a curious thing. Have you ever noticed how often we say things that mean something entirely different from what we are actually trying to say? Our slang is chock full of examples. (such as the one I just used.) Chock? How does a word that means to block or stop something from moving; a ships fitting or cable, or an anchor or brace, end up in an expression that means completely full? Even Wiktionary cannot say for sure.

I loved the Linguistics class I had in high school; learning all about words, phrases, slang and etymology; what’s not to like, really? For someone (like me) who spent their free time constructing grammatically correct, compound, complex sentences worthy of praise from Charles Dickens and then diagramming them (correctly, I might add!) just for fun; explaining that I enjoyed the systematic study of (the English) language is like saying Mr. Spock is Logical or Hobbits have hairy feet. It’s a given.

The variety of vernacular that exists, depending on the region (or country) you live in is truly amazing or, one might say, is enough to make your head spin or leave you gobsmacked. As I have lived in several distinctly different areas of the country (that country being the US) I’ve picked up more than a few catch phrases (although how I picked up an inanimate object and what exactly said object was catching I am by no means sure).

In South Central Pennsylvania, where I presently reside, there are a plethora of colloquialisms derived from the Pennsylvania Dutch community that are peculiar enough to make anyone who is not from the area stare at you like you just started speaking Klingon should you happen to use one. For example, if you are embarrassed about something you Feel Your Nerve. If you cannot sit still you are Ruchy. If you want me to move down lower in my chair or make room for you on the park bench you would ask me to Ruch Down or Ruch Over. Similarly, the milk bottle is not empty, It’s All, and you don’t turn off the light, you Make Out The Light.

When I lived in the South (Alabama to be exact, which was an experience worthy of its own bizarre post) I swore left and right (although I never actually turned my head) that I would not be Fixin’ or Reckon’ anything. Nevertheless, I often found myself saying things like It’s Fixin’ to Rain, which means It’s Getting Ready to Rain, or It’s Fixin’ to Get It, which means Things are About to Get a Little Crazy. Fixin’ simply means Getting Ready, unless, of course, you say I’m Fixin’ to Get Ready, which, literally translated, would mean you are Getting Ready to Get Ready, but in reality it means you are already Ready to Do whatever it is you are going to do. Confused yet? I Reckon’!

(Disclaimer to my friends across the pond: As I am not British, {a tragedy I will forever lament}, I believe I understand the proper use of the following examples of British slang, but should I be mistaken, please do feel free to correct me)

In America we say Ta! when we mean Goodbye and Cheers! when we mean Thank you; however in England they say Cheers! when they mean Goodbye and Ta! when they mean Thank You. In America we ask if someone is All Right? when we are concerned over their health or state of being; however in England saying All Right? to someone is like saying Hi, How are you? And if someone in England said to me Give Us a Bell, being American, I would raise a delicately arched brow and hand them a bell, when what they really mean is they want me to call them (or ring them) on the telephone. Perplexed? Me too!

The differences in our own language are endless and with all these intricacies, dialects, regional connotations, and interpretations about (or around, depending) not to mention slang usage and hyper-text abbreviations, it is a miracle that we understand each other at all. So the next time you (or I) labor for hours masterfully interweaving descriptors, plot, characters, research, and good old fashioned fancy into something post-worthy; yet it ends up sparking only minimal interest (or the editor/publisher requests an absurd number of rewrites), take heart! Even if only a handful of readers ultimately respond, you can still consider it a triumph of communication in a sea of chaff.

OH….any for those of you who were lured in by the double-entendre of this post’s title, Spanking the Pomegranate is simply a culinary term used for liberating those delectable little jewels of sweetness from the otherwise inconsequential husk of the fruit.

~Morgan~
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Beautiful Photograph found on pinterest