Frogs & Roses ~ Chapter II

Illustration by Gen @ GensBlogiddyblog







For Hannah...

Frogs & Roses, Chapter I Contd: Test quickly but sadly hopped back to the pond to tell his siblings about what he had discovered...(stay tuned for the adventures of Test the bullfrog as he wonders off towards the field of flowers for another tasty bite of lunch...) Well, in the beginning of the story we learn about how a family of frogs live amongst the pond that has a rather large tree hovering over it. Test is the oldest of his other frog siblings and has discovered there is more to eat than just insects...

After his mother tucked him and his siblings into bed Test began to tell his sisters and brothers about his new discoveries. They did not seem as interested as he had hoped, but told him that their parents said they were not allowed to stray further than their own home entry or the pond. They warned him that he was a fool and would become prey to other animals as his father had also warned him, so he lay there thinking about the pink tulip he had tasted earlier in the day. Thinking about its silky leaves, how they tasted, and about how they were sweet and tart all in the same bite. As he drifted off to sleep he began to see visions of the cluster of color just beyond the field and pond. His home was a safe haven. Test yearned to go further out, but his parents forbid it until he grew larger and could start a family of his own.

That morning out on the lily pads during breakfast he asked his father about the snake creature that had moved into his neighborhood. "One day Test you will be able to defend yourself, so for now stay away from them" his father told him. "Snakes, um yum yum" his father began to mutter to himself. "Chester" his mother called out to his father, "We are missing a few little ones, and I need your help over here" she ranted on. Test took this opportunity to hop off to the tree roots again and see if the old owl was around. He had questions about the snakes, but knew his father would not have anymore of his curiosity for the moment.

The old owl had been in the tree, but Test noticed he flew off out towards the field. He climbed up as high as he could to see where the bird was going. The day was a beautiful sunny, but windy afternoon. Test could see the grass leaning with the wind. He saw the old owl land in another tree that was very far, but sat upon the top of a great hill. Shadows of dark and light moved across the field and Test thought at great length about what this could be. He could not see above the limbs and leaves of the otter branches, so he did not know that it was light fluffy clouds moving way up in the sky.

Suddenly the sun shined the brightest and he noticed a patch of color just off to the left of the great tree that old Mr. Owl had landed in. A lough croak came out of his throat as he began to become excited. "Oh how I would so like to taste that color" he thought to himself. He could hear his mother calling out his name, and he knew if he did not go soon he would be in big trouble. Off Tester hopped back to the pond for their afternoon naps and sunbathing upon the lily pads. His mother and father would quietly sing them all to sleep. To most humans and other animals it all just sounded like a unique blend of croaking noises, but to the frogs it was a ballad of the most beautiful noise.

Later that afternoon one of the parent snakes had slithered into the pond and tried to see if they could catch one of the baby frogs for a snack. Daddy Chester was on to her and decided that it was time for Tester to see what they were all about. Without much notice he pounced on the female snake and Test watched with much curiosity. "This will teach you to try and get past my watchful eyes" his father told the female. "Please kind sir do not eat me, for I have many babies to care for back in my den" the female snake told his father. "We cannot have you trying your slithery tricks around here my dear" and he quickly ate the female. "But father" Tester pleaded with his father, "Why do you have to eat her"? His father told him that they eat snakes that roam around the water. He also shared that there were many other snakes out in the world that would easily eat him if he was not careful. Those snakes live out away from the pond, and are much larger he explained to Tester. "Be careful son and do not go to far out from the pond area, because I might not be able to save you next time" Chester told his first born.

Tester still had the patch of color on his mind all afternoon, but was disturbed at what he had just witnessed. How can such cruel things go on when there is so much beauty in this landscape he thought. When he found the right moment he was going to sneak off and go investigate the color, but he wanted to speak to the old Mr. Owl before he made his journey. His father had warned him not to venture off after dark, because that is when the snakes are more active around the pond, so he decided he would go back to the tree roots after his morning breakfast and sunning tomorrow. Test would learn as much as he could about the field life and what exactly was that new color he had seen. He was growing much bigger and his appetite was as well...

(I know you might have thought Tester would have made his way to the field by now, but he was smart enough to heed his father's warnings, and wanted to gather as much information as he could. Once he talks to the wise old Mr. Owl in the morning, he will begin his journey to the patch of color...we must have patience sometimes to become keen on what mysteries lay ahead in our journey's of life...)

Lost at Sea

I am posting a blog tomorrow about a soup I just made on my 'Behind The Wheel Chef'...and it ties into the old nursery rhyme 'Three Men In A Tub', but then this came steaming out into my own ocean of creative thought, becoming a poem...















CookAppeal Maker, E Stelling, 3/2/09

Lost on an ocean, a sea of green…
No sails.
No compass.
No direction.
Alone with only your thoughts,
Adrift on salty concoctions;
Add some passing fish
Make a paddle from drift
Stir up some friends
Throw in a bed of self discovery & personal growth
Healthy taste of what’s to come, and
You have cooked up;
A great big bowl of Yum!

There is a contest that you can enter using food you eat to spell out things...

If you want to enter this contest with Tangled Noodle...

To participate:

1. 'Write or spell' using food or drink and create a blog post about it until midnight on Friday, March 6th. Any previous blog posts you already have where you've created a 'written'-inspired dish or drink will be accepted.

2. Blog about your creation, including photos, and add a link back to Savor the Thyme (http://savorthethyme.blogspot.com) and Tangled Noodle (http://tanglednoodle.blogspot.com).

3. Send an e-mail titled 'Eating Your Words' to eatingyourwords09@cox.net with the following information:

• Your name
• The name of your blog
• The name of your dish or drink
• Your food blog name and the link to your entry, including pictures, by midnight March 6, 2009

You can still participate even if you don't have a blog at all. Simply e-mail the above information minus the blog details and we'll include it in the round up.

4. Please keep it clean! Appropriate humor is always welcome.

Black Horse Riding

While walking along fields of green
Hands sliding along summer wheat
Winds rose up and brought with it;
a black horse with no rider…

“Could I be of assistant” I asked
Wanting a drink, and
a good roll in the hay, he’d state
We began to discuss his purpose, and
good Christian ways…

He warned me of dark skies
Shots ringing out like thunder
Riding in on east winds
Making our way through streets of hate, and
judgment…and then he sang…

We’ve Left children crying
Fathers, sons, brothers are dying
Mothers left in pools of red
Death was all around us
No reason for war hurling in our heads…

Off he rode, that black stead
Back to the hill of white stone and rubble
Winter was coming, and peace to sow
Light shines now, to the North East
Where streets were once paved, and
flowed with rivers of unknown soldiers

We’ve Left children crying
Fathers, sons, brothers are dying
Mothers left in pools of red
Death may be all around us
No reason for war, a black stead once said…

Our children will walk the fields of green
Winds may rise up
Bringing messages from the east
Peace and songs they will share
“Bless my lucky star, a black horse will take you only so far”…

E Stelling, 2/13/09

For Obama...a song I composed, and a prayer for peace and our sons to never experience the face of death and darkness...

Frogs & Roses ~ Chapter I

The late summer winds began to cool off the little town of Laggwatts. The train was late that day as the conductor stood at the edge of the platform and looked down at his pocket watch. "Half past six... I will have to report that engineer again" he said in a huff as he turned and went back inside the depot office.

Outside a boy sat on the bench with his mother. He watched across the field that sat just behind the train depot. Trees sat all about the area, but there was a small opening that allowed one to see just over a small hill. Just at the bottom of that hill sat a small pond. The boy began to imagine that he was in that clearing and he began to run about the green grass that swayed with the breeze and seemed as if satin was covering the hill like a chubby angel who was napping. He saw the blue water of the pond, and that is when he noticed lily pads that grew about the edge of its watery palace.

All that straining to see what lay in the field along with boredom caused the boy to slowly fall against his mothers side as he was falling into a dreamy world of wondrous sleep...A loud croak startled a small band of grasshoppers that were discussing the next stop before they head back to their homes for the night. They went back to their discussion as they realized from the hopping going on at the waters edge it was Chester and his family.

Chester had gotten married the winter before and had already started a family. He and the Misses had twelve little ones that were hopping about from pad to pad. Chester at once croaked loudly again to get all of their attention. Each one hurried along back into their small hole at the edge of the water. This was just under a big shade tree. The tree was so old that its roots had started to pop out of the ground and was giving many of the animal kingdom a place to call home.

All but one frog had hopped back home, and he was not even near the water. With out noticing earlier he had managed to slip from his mothers watchful eye and go in the direction of the most beautiful patch of color he had ever seen. His name was Test, and he was the first to hatch of the twelve tadpoles that Mr. and Mrs. Bullfrog had that first season of spring. He was named after his father, well in a way. Tester was a fidgety sort of frog. Many of his siblings were happy spending their afternoons amongst the pads waiting for supper to come along. No, Test liked his meal to be a challenge, and had a taste for the unusual...

Test dreamed of silky flower petals with hints of pollen. This came about one day when he was hopping from root to root just outside of his house. Strangely he had been watching a patch of sunlight coming in just from the tree tops and highlighting a small spot of ground at the top of root hill just at the side of the tree. Rains had washed most of the grass away. Leaving only mud or dirt depending on the weather. Test began to watch as green began to break through the ground and soon bloomed into the wildest flowers he had ever seen. He had actually never seen a flower before. Only grass and other small animals and insects.

Actually Test only had ever seen the colors of white, blue, green, and brown in his surroundings. Maybe a few spots of yellow or was it beige he thought. Well these green stems he had been watching began to have this strange fat bulb pop out at their ends. Curiously he would disobey his parents each afternoon just when the sun would peep through and watch that green house pop open and display a cup of tones he had not seen before. "Son, what are you looking at" Mr. Owl said in his direction. "Uh, who me Test began to look around, and then he heard a limb above move. "Yes, you son, your croaking is disturbing my sleep" Mr. Owl said, and then whoooo'd back at the young bullfrog. "Well, I am not sure what that is sir" Test explained, "I have been watching it and wish I knew what it was".

Mr. Owl began to explain to the young Test that he was looking at a tulip that had found its way into our tree spot. He explained that flowers find their way around the earth through birds or animals that eat them and their seeds; then distribute them back unto the ground when they are done eating what they want. "Squirrels are the worst of their kind" said Mr. Owl, "I do not like them very much". They hop about my tree limbs looking for nuts and things, disturbing me all morning and afternoon". Test asked Mr. Owl if he knew what color this tulip was for he had never seen such a site.

Test learned that it was pink. He wanted to get a closer look, so he planned to come back the next day and check this tulip out. Hopping back down to the lower levels of roots he went right through the opening just in time for his father was angrily coming out to look for him. "Test how many times, crooooaaaaak, do I have to tell you that it is dangerous out there for young frogs at night" said his father. Test went to sleep and thought about the beautiful pink color as he dreamed. That is when his father would go out and hunt for extra food. Taking care of so many little ones can be so tiring Chester thought to himself, but soon they would be old enough to go out and begin a family of their own.

The next morning Test quickly rose and headed out the opening fighting his way through his other eleven brothers and sisters. His mother warned him not to go off on his own, but he had already found his way out to the pond. He decided it would be better to have breakfast and then he would sneak back up to the top of the tree roots. Little did they know that a new family had just moved in only that very night before. A bunch of slithering water snakes who found young bullfrogs very tasty.

In the afternoon when the sun was at its hottest they all sat in the edge of the water under some lily pads taking a nap. Their mother would watch out for them as Chester also slept. When Test saw his mother start to doze off for a moment he saw his chance to head up to the flower. He could see it had already opened up in the warmth of the afternoon. Tulips you see open up in the morning sun, but because this one had found its way into a shaded area that only got a small amount of sun it was off schedule. Test hopped up to the top of the roots and this time he got a little closer. The afternoon breeze blew it and its petals back and forth. The young bullfrog positioned itself up on a root just beyond the flowers reach and watched as he began to get a peep inside of its pink dressings.

"Oh", he thought "if only I could talk to the flower". The tulip was shy and Test never heard it make a peep, but just as he reached as high as he could on his legs and feet the flower began to tip its had towards him. He could see inside of its cup. Strange long things that looked fuzzy and on the ends were little black tips.
Lovely he thought, and the nicest smell was coming out towards him. His tummy suddenly growled. Test was getting hungry, but as he was still leaning towards the tulip something hit him in the back and he landed right into the bulb of the tulip.

"What was that" he said out loud. "Son you had better watch out, a family of snakes has moved into the area and a small one just came at you" Mr. Owl told him. "Why Thank You" Test told him, "What would have happened if we had meet" he questioned. "Well son, you see snakes are dangerous to your kind. They eat frogs and other water animals for their meals. Kind of like how you eat insects" Mr Owl explained to the young bullfrog. Mr. Owl told him that he on occasion ate snakes, but he only like small tender ones. He also told Test that he had no reason to be afraid of owls because they most often preferred small tender creators like rodents like field mice and snakes. Frogs did not really taste like chicken as many have said.

While Test was listening he began to run his tongue around his mouth and the most amazing taste was occurring in his palate. A sweet aroma filled his nostrils. He became dizzy from its flavor. Had he just discovered a new meal for himself? Could it be possible that his parents forgot to mention to him that they also ate flowers. Taking his hands he pulled the tulip petal towards his mouth and he bite off a piece. Wow! He thought. Not even paying attention to Mr. Owl's rambling lecture he began to eat every single one of the tulips petals. Suddenly he fell from its top onto the ground with a small unnoticeable thud. "Well I see you have eaten all the pink from the tulip son" Mr. Owl remarked, "Now you run along back to your family before another snake comes along that is not too small to find you as satisfying".

Test quickly but sadly hopped back to the pond to tell his siblings about what he had discovered...(stay tuned for the adventures of Test the bullfrog as he wonders off towards the field of flowers for another tasty bite of lunch...)

This is for my mother who walked a path that did include some creativity, and was passed on to me. She always talked about wanting to publish a poetry book with this as her title, but it never came about. She did however manage to write two poems that I actually have the privilege of having the originals, and cherish...

Mark Shardine

Some words of wisdom
For women who long to see
Men preparing meals:

"Does your husband cook?"
"Yes, he never hesitates
To serve calories."

Mark Shardine is one of our poets that attend 'Cultural Art Expression'....

Spiders Ball- Poetry Prose

Spider Pictures





Just after dark when human life quiets down
In the darkest corner, rural life to city shed
A most amazing site
past tools, trash, and bike

Instruments of the smallest proportion
tables, drink, food, all vegan of course!
Making moonlight dance to the nuttiest
most swingin’ of sounds

Violins, piano, harp, a set of walnut drums
Crafted from human discard
Tiny spectacular mounds

At springs new day, once a year
With intention to dance and play
Not so true as we have all been told
All sorts of creatures will gather
in friendly fold

Tired, hungry from the cold’s long plight
Ready to eat, drink, laugh until morning light

The band starts warming up as guest start to call
No one gets in unless they have been invited
To the craziest of gatherings…The Spiders Ball

Outside many wait in line
Mr. Beetle tells jokes
A lizard dressed in a Zoot suit
Bright yellow, matching hat and white shoes
Mrs. Mole as scolds Jr. as he is...
blowing spit wads at the others behind

Old wise owl, Mr. Barr, whoooooo never misses a beat
Or any party, brought the best dancers,
Suzy Snake, because she is so light on her feet

Betsy and Bailey Bunny were summoned to the party
they began rounding up the family
As all ten bunnies are hopping about

Others had come from as far away as you can imagine
Country mice, birds, two to four legged creatures
and many of their kin
Many, many small creatures
in no way will harm or offend

In the highest of places
waits the their host, Maestro
with the silliest of grins
Honored to be the big grand daddy of them all

If any wonder why a spider started this ball
Then listen in closely as I explain

From the beginning of time, Mother Arachne
the first spider to grace this earth
worked from morning till night
developing fine webs of beauty and inspiration
never stopping except to have a bite

Generations of her kind came into this world
One, two, three, four to hundreds on the wind set flight
Once all eight legs touched the ground
With the rhythm of the wind
mixed with earths great sounds

Spiders were natural born dancers
Eight legs working, bouncing with rhythm and grace
Making homes for a family
catching a meal without hast

If you dare...just after dark
Follow your ear to the deepest corner of rural life or city shed
You might find a grand party
But if there is no signs of dancing, laughter or bright yellow suits

Then it cannot be... A Spiders Ball!

E, 2000 © all rights are owned by the author, and is waiting to be published as a children book, so please do not copy or duplicate this piece under any circumstances

My daughter Anelisa and I wrote this together. She was a great lover of any life that was created and roamed this world, and the first thing she would ask is "Do you have any pets, and what kind...".

A look into someone else's artwork...

I look about trying to find inspiration for my days work, a meaning to go on, for words to flow onto the paper from my pen, pencil, or keyboard...and I come upon sites through your comments, leading to an interest in what lay waiting...

This photo from 365 to 42 lay dormant in blog sphere, and moving from site to site it awakened my curiosity through a dragon from PoetryPicturesProse; that had turned to stone from antiquity and imagination leading to the land it once roamed...a journey down a road to places with borders, and to a place I had been...a world without fences that does not exist anymore...

No Fences...

Remember back in the day, roads and streets, filled with children, soccer balls flew with hats of joy and running laughter, across yards, into backyards. Children had no boundaries, no fear of unknown grounds or unseen rituals. Houses remained the same, filled with love and anger, touched by law of belief, full of their own truth. There was no such thing as a stranger, or unseen danger. Standing out back you could see clotheslines and trees, and on a good day you could see far, clear and through. Listen as a mom calls out for the son or daughter, or parents who loudly shared their cares till dawn, broken bottles and promises, trees that counted the days, months till it was blanketed by what was apparent, keeping the silence until spring.

Walls five to ten feet tall soon replaced open space, endless playground for innocent spectators, and neighbors have become strangers. Sisters and brothers in danger sun up till darkness hides no fear, only becomes a weapon for televisions and radio reports, as young children die under its cover. Dawn and its playgrounds give way to grave yards, the traces of things long gone remain to be seen…