To celebrate my sweet, lovely Peyton's return, I have composed a sonnet. Qhen I am in a less over-enthused mood I'll go back and edit.

Where We Are When the World Stops

When the world and its time stop
we are all frozen in the here and now.
a squirrel in mid-climb never reaches the top
of tree, and is left trapped in a bough.

A leaf hovers in the middle of a fall,
No longer intent on reaching the ground.
A deer's body's tensed in the act of a call
that ceases before it's escaped, the sound

trapped, much the same all other deer
even those in the arc of a long, graceful flight,
or those caught in a moment of laughter or tears,
or even those trapped in a regrettable fight.

Each moment's forever, time ceases to be
just as it does now because you're next to me.

Seed's Poetry Collection

...Seed's sort of overjoyed-out over there, so instead of a proper entry, accept a photobucket album:
http://s258.photobucket.com/albums/hh267/S33dl1ng/Peyton%20is%20Back/

the commentary is by me. Seed will come along with a few poems shortly.

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The snow fell like leaves, silent as the wingbeats of equally pale doves. Save for the chill in the air, one could imagine a cascade of white feathers. The lake water was beautiful, a painting done in pale purple and sudden, bright gold, while the rest of the world seemed unchanged.

I stepped out into the snow and found Reina quickly. For a little while, we sat and watched the snow fall over the lake. It was really very peaceful, and we managed to keep eachother warm as our breath froze slightly, whisping like smoke into the air. We set off on what I assumed was a small walk, which was actually starting to feel very nice until I realized she was just taking the long way to find a mushroom tree to help me get my mask back. It was short work, though, so we started dancing. During the dance, one or another of us had to go, though I cannot recall which.


When next I awoke, I ended up with a very nice surprise. Scape was awake! I haven't seen Scape in a very long time. We ran and bounced and moonwalked like idiots for what felt like either a very long short time or a very short long time. When we were finally calm enough to think coherently, we decided to join the danceline that had been set up near the lake.


After the dance-line broke up, we made a shocking realization: Scape had left a clone, sitting in his usual spot! Scape was really freaked out, but I couldn't decide if it was freaky, or just kind of funny how wigged out Scape was. Scape eventually started messing around, sitting on the clone's back and so forth.

A Forest Fairytale
The tree that grew in the purple flowers never asked for much. It knew neither the language of the long-ago men, nor the ineffable language of the Twin Gods, and had no one to listen to it anyway.
"I have my flowers," the tree said to itself, "I have the company of butterflies and fireflies. I have the flight of doves and the scamperings of squirrels. I am not too hot, nor too cold, and I never want for water or light. Many trees are not as blessed as I am: how could I possibly ask for more?"

But regardless of those thoughts, the tree that grew in the purple flowers drooped and wilted in its loneliness, for while it had the butterflies, the birds, and the squirrels, it could neither know them nor keep them close. No other tree grew so near to the tree that grew in the purple flowers that their branches could touch and send messages of joy or sorrow.

One day the tree saw a group of deer playing in its area of The Forest. The tree that grew in the purple flowers had never seen deer before. It marveled at the way they played, the way they laughed. The way they knew each other and kept each other close.
"If I were like them, could I be happy?" the tree asked itself, long after the deer were gone. The tree that grew near the purple flowers decided that, at last, it would go and ask the gods for one more blessing: it would ask to become a deer.

So the tree began its long trek across the forest. It dragged itself along the shallow hills, in and out of patches of sun, in and out of water, in and out of shade. It crossed a river and a ruin in its desire to ask its one and only favor from the gods. It moved at barely a crawl, and each step took days. When it was halfway to the hill of the gods, the tree that grew near the purple flowers saw a squirrel lying near death in its path.
"What is the matter, little squirrel?" The tree asked.

I know I was acting a little funky today...eventually, this will get a diary entry, but to explain it simply...

Walter reminded him of Payton (by wearing, for longer than the other antlers he was sneezing off, the pronghorn antlers while otherwise wearing his "young" set, IE the gazelle pelt and real dear mask) not long after Reina gave him 3 nuzzles in a row (which, while I don't think she meant it that way, is something Seed takes in a romantic way)...which, all togethor, made him sad and confused.

That is pretty much the bare bones of it. There was a lot of other stuff going on in Seed's little emotional brain today that, when collected all at once, made him want to go crazy and run through the forest screaming.

[=#006400]  Yesterday was uneventful, but still. I need to get back in practice of making entries, so here we go. Nothing much was going on when I woke up, so I decided to take off my flowers and go to my thinking rock. My thinking rock is the one accessable only by another rock. I like sitting there, my antlers bare, feeling the scratching of birds. I wasn't sad when I went there: I was just kind of bored. A deer I had seen earlier ran by, and I started to run along. I lost track of him, and landed straight in the path of a doe I had never seen before. I seem to be running into lots of strange does lately. She took me to a little patch of sun between two small trees and we danced for a little while: maybe a little closer than I was comfortable dancing with a strange deer, but it was all good fun. We ended up sitting in the spot for a while, watching a pair of ghost deer interact around us: she was shocked, I was a little shocked, but more amused.

A small series of haiku about the forest at twilight I composed. Enjoy ^^ (I think the last two need some work...)
The Forest at Twilight
Here the fallen stars
that form swirling galaxies
may be just fireflies.

The brush streaks with red,
the ground and sky alight with
the day's last embers.

Deer sit in lilac
or stone, watch the sky explode;
colors like music.

Seed's Poetry Collection

[=#006400]Oh, darkness, how delectable! You loom, threaten to fall on a forest still awake despite your promise! You bring before you your fire-delight-light, your tender fireflies, glowing with a desire for life, for love, to be enjoined for a moment in the twilight! I love the way your shadow changes the world, making candles glitter and glow on the antlers of deer.  I like fireflies the best, though, of all the changes twilight and its sisters bring. Hence, I spent most of my day dancing among them, or just watching their movements, glittering in and out with hearts that, like mine, seek some sort of light.

 I moved in and out of groups, preffering sitting down with a deer or deer to doing much else: I enjoyed some time with a number of deer, Quamar in particular.

...and another deer, too. I've never seen her before, and I suspect I never will again. Not because our meeting went wrong: but because I will see a deer at times, and never see them again. This always happens when I try to get close to a deer, or excited about one. I met her sitting alone in the birch forest, and went to join her, to see what she was seeing (I got candles around that point.) When she got up, I decided that I wanted to dance with the fireflies: because, as I said before, something about fireflies makes me feel alive.
She had to go not long after, and I left for a quick break not long later. I saw her a few more times, sitting or sleeping, perfectly still. I wandered among small groups, going here or there, sitting when I chose, and often doing so alone. I admit I was a little lonely, which I suppose is why I ended up sitting with her again near the playground. We were joined, for a while, and then left alone again.

Yesterday I had a great, great time. Well, it started out as a normal-seeming day: I was setless, I ran into Sqish, who started helping me...after we got my pelt back, I had a brilliant idea, if I do say so (judge me by the results. the results were fun.) I had heard that someone had found a solution to me tag problem: the divine pelt. I had never considered it, maybe because I really don't like it. Still, I knelt down, praying to the Twin Gods my intentions would be clear to my companion. At first, it was hard to tell: Sqish knelt down too. But then, not willing to give up, since I was already in that annoying pelt with its incessant glow, I ran down the hill to where Pepokeen was (He had, I think, just woken up.) I cast it, sneezed the pelt off, and started running. And you know what happened then, which not even I could have expected? They got it. They understood what I meant, what I wanted.

[=#006400]
We played tag, chasing whoever wasn't IT (and sometimes it was two deer, sometimes just one) all around the Birch Forest. It wasn't quite running the way I like it best. But it was running, great running, running made into a game. When the last divine pelt ran out, we laughed, panting. And we decided to play again. and again. and again.

And then...and then I fell into the pond, losing my set. So we took a break for a while, just as Toukan woke up. He helped us get my set back, and as we were after-dancing, I tried to ask Pepokeen if we should start another game. He nodded, so we set off for the statue.

Welp, I decided to put up handy-dandy links to all of Seed's little poems. Because why not? The links will lead to the poem (or poems) in the link-text. enjoy.
(feel free to comment on any of the poems. Really.