Enigma of the Night

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From November 6th, 2012 Tuesday, a poem with a forgotten tune of a song I wrote for pleasure:

//Enigma of the Night//

Verse 1:
There's a feather floating on the breeze
Dancing through and past the trees
T'ward the great and fearful seas
    to swim instead of fly

Undiminished drops of dew
Drop on by right next to you
Sitting there on the toadstool
    to hide instead of shine

Bridge:
We all have seen those kinds of days when life won't satisfy
Until it gives-in to our will and grants us a surprise

Chorus:
Fairy-tales, fantasy, starlight riddled with our dreams
We all want to know how it would feel to fly
Fairy-tales, fantasy, all the raindrops in the sea
It's a mystery that no one can deny


Enigma of the night

Verse 2:
There's a jewel in the rocks
List'ning as the starlight mocks
And it breaks free of its stocks
    to glow instead of cry

...

Bridge 2:
We all have seen those kinds of days when life won't satisfy
Until it gives-in to our will and grants us a new prize

Chorus 2:
Fairy-tales, fantasy, things aren't always as they seem
All our trouble only last a little time
Fairy-tales, fantasy, all the tears upon my sleeve
It's a mystery that no one can deny

Enigma of the night

Stories

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Stories.

It's at the Beginning of a tale when the very heart of what it is all about is revealed.

The Middle, the End... these also play a large role in unraveling the truth about the meaning of a tale, but nothing should say it so plainly as the very Beginning.

The Beginning draws the reader in. A writer can tell so much that the reader may guess the ending, but can also tell so little that one feels draw to discover how that end may come about.

What makes a story so special? Is it the characters, and how loveable they are? Is it the drama, the plot, the atmosphere, or the words? No.

A story goes far deeper than words. It goes far deeper than the skill with which the story is woven, or even the material the writer has chosen for his or her craft.

What makes a story special is the writer.

What goes into a story is not just ideas or dreams or words... it is the writer. Their thoughts, feelings, needs, and yes, even their very heart must be poured into a story to make it so very special.

It seems to be quite proven that the stories which are close to us are the ones we grew up with, the ones we treasured, the ones that became a part of us.

Stories go beyond teaching us morals or guiding us on a path with a character to which we can relate, or through mysterious lands, or into curious circumstances in which we wish to partake. Stories tells us who we are when we least know what to think. They are our teachers, our friends... they flow through our beings like our own blood and are equally as essential.

Those who live apart from stories lack the fervor, the excitement, the love which we who cling to stories have in full. It is a dry, coarse world which neglects to stop and pay attention to the little things, to remember a childhood fantasy, a poem tied more firmly around their being than their own name...

There is something inexplicably personal about stories because a story is made up of a person.

This is what makes a story believable.

This is what makes a story so special.

This is what makes a story real.

portmanteau

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I just learned an interesting list of facts on the internet dictionary concerning 'portmanteaus' --- a word I never recall having heard before! (Love it when that happens....) Apparently, a portmanteau is basically a word made up of a combination of words. Like this:

This portmanteau abbreviation of "web log"--(we)blog--is simultaneously a verb, a noun, and a sphere: one "blogs" when writing their "blog" which is displayed in the "blogosphere." The noun form of blog is a website that functions as an online journal in which an author can display their personal opinions, experiences and insights. One "blogs" in the verb form when they add to this journal using online posts.

Maybe this isn't news to you, but what about this:

It would be a terrible shame if portmanteau were not itself a portmanteau. The word originally referred to a large traveling case made of stiff leather, derived from a combination of the French porter, meaning "to carry," and manteau, meaning "mantle" or "cloak." The word's literary significance is the work of the great neologist himself, Lewis Carroll. In Through the Looking-Glass, Humpty Dumpty explains to Alice that the strange compound words she hears in Wonderland are "like a portmanteau--there are two meanings packed up into one word."

So, I learned something totally new today! How about you? ;)