Land of Spells and Enchantments

Mr Changeabout

noreply@blogger.com (Traveller) — Sun, 19 Mar 2006 15:58:00 +0000

inspired by a "found" photo of broken puppets and Le Enchanteur's message about Mr Changeabout pulling the strings of your characters

I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but Le Enchanteur knows for sure, but I found myself at the top of the Faraway tree. I was at the top of the ladder leading to a hole in the clouds. There wasn't a soul about. Silky wasn't at home, Dame Washalot hadn't thrown any water on me and the angry pixie's curtains were drawn tight. I put my head through the hole. A green and pleasant land stretched before me with chocolate-box-picture buildings. I climbed right the way up and stepped on to the grass. I could hear birds twittering and it reminded me of a spring day back at home. It looked an idyllic setting.

I set out towards the nearest buildings to see if there was any sign of life. On the outskirts of what appeared to be a village, I came across an old chest from which came the sound of moaning and crying. Curious as I am, I approached cautiously and listened for a while before tapping on the chest. Immediately there was a short silence followed by calls for help. I lifted the lid.

Inside the box, in a heap of broken and twisted limbs and tangled strings lay a number of puppets. "Help us, please" they pleaded piteously. I carefully lifted them out and laid them gently on the grass. What a sorry sight they made. Their heads lolled to one side and some of their limbs had a most unnatural look to them. I sat down on the grass beside them. "Whatever has happened to you?" I asked.

With one voice they replied "Mr Changeabout". "Mr Changeabout?" I echoed. "Who is he and why did he do this to you?" One of the puppets, which seemed to be in better shape than the others, replied, "we were once part of a travelling puppet theatre, called the 'theatre of dreams'. We came to the land of spells hoping that we would be able to charm and delight our audiences. At first we did just that and then somehow or other Mr Changeabout got to hear about us." Another voice took up the story. "We set up our theatre in the grounds of the school at the edge of the wood. All the children came to watch us, including Mr Changeabout. At the end of the show he came backstage to talk to us. He seemed to be very enthusiastic about our little play and invited us to go and visit the children in the school the very next day." "And somehow it all went wrong?" I asked. "That's exactly what happened" the first puppet replied. "Mr Changeabout settled the children in their seats and then he sat down in the front row. He clapped and he cheered at the end and we were all very pleased. Two minutes later he changed into a raging fury "calling us all sorts of names and said that we were the invention of the devil. He picked up our travelling theatre and flung it to the ground. Next he grabbed hold of us and bundled us into this chest, which is what we use to transport our props, with no thought for our wellbeing. In fact, we're sure he deliberately mishandled us so that some of us would get broken and we wouldn't be able to do any more shows for a while. Then he got one of the giants to carry the chest outside and dumped it, with us still inside. You can imagine how upset all the children were. Then the giant brought our theatre out here and jumped up and down on it. We could hear the wood breaking from inside the chest. It was heart-breaking".

Just as they finished their tale of woe Silky and Saucepan Man arrived. I briefly told them what had happened. "Is there anything we can do to help these poor puppets?" I asked Silky. She bent down to have a closer look. "I think I can repair them and Saucepan Man has a friend called Mr Fixit who, I'm sure, would be able to mend their theatre. I don't think the land of spells is staying here for very long so we will have to be quick and find Mr Fixit."

As soon as Saucepan Man heard Mr Fixit's name mentioned he started banging and clashing his pots and pans. "I know just where he is at the moment" he said. "On our way through the hole in the clouds I saw him at 'ye olde worlde cottage dairy', sitting with the angry pixie, eating an ice cream. I'll go and get him now". He clattered off to find his friend and they soon returned. Mr Fixit brought his toolkit with him and soon set about putting the theatre back together again. Silky picked up the broken puppets one by one and carefully re-threaded their strings and put a stitch or two into their costumes and soon they looked good as new. Fortunately none of them was injured - the damage had appeared much worse at first glance. They were, however, still feeling a bit bashed after their ordeal so Saucepan Man suggested they all go and have an ice cream to cheer themselves up again. By the time they returned, with traces of pomegranate purple pie ice cream dribbling down their chins, Mr Fixit had put the theatre back together again.

I suggested that we keep them company until the next land appeared and they were able to leave without being bothered further by Mr Changeabout and they all thought this was a good idea. We certainly didn't want to meet this horrible man so we all moved as close as possible to the hole in the clouds. When the next land appeared, the land of dolls and soft toys, they jumped down on to it and Mr Fixit and Saucepan Man handed the theatre down to them and the new land moved off. We scrambled down the ladder as fast as we could and went for tea with Silky in the peace and quiet of her lovely house in the tree and the angry pixie decided to stop being angry for a while and came and joined us.

Mother Moon

noreply@blogger.com (Shiloh) — Sat, 11 Mar 2006 22:52:00 +0000

The Full Crow Moon (March's full moon) is coming, the last full moon of Winter. Spring is coming and soon Mother Earth will reawaken, fertile, verdant and bursting with life. While she has slept and rested for four or five months, one mother, though we cannot see her by day has never taken a break. This mother has kept a gentle vigil over us each night. As she travels in her silver charriot across the velvet ebony sky, with her less bright, twinkling handmaidens, the stars following in her wake, Mother Moon watches and sends her gentle silver light down, bathing everything in its soft glow.

She is often a gentle, loving, benevolent mother, lighting the darkness that we may see. She is easy to tell secrets to and will keep them...or sometimes not...in her wisdom. She'll soothe and calm, hypnotize and mesmerize. She's beautiful and ethereal. She controls the tides and influences the cycles of life.

But like all mothers, she has her limits and will punish those who disobey and disrespect her. She will cause a madness or lunacy to come upon those foolhardy individuals who dare hurt or displease her. Like all mothers and goddesses, Mother Moon--Luna, Diana, Rhiannon, or by whatever other name we know her as--will not be mocked. Like everyone else, she just wants to be loved, adored, respected, remembered.

And I, for one, am proud to be called a moon child.

I raise my arms in greeting
As she slips up through the night,
The rounded Moon of Mystery,
A glowing silver disk of light.
My spirit answers to her call
And longs for wings to fly,
That I might seek her secret place
Whose symbol is the sky.
A place of hidden secrets,
Of sacred mysteries old,
A place I knew in other times,
In temple wisdom no more told.
I struggle to remember
All the things I learned before,
The forgotten mysteries of the Moon,
The goddess and her lore.
Although my arms reach skyward,
I turn inward toward her voice.
I tread the inner labyrinth,
Trusting in my choice.
"Seek not without, but deep within."
The words are soft and clear.
"Keep faith with me for thirteen months,
The Mother's Sacred Year."
I watch her through her cycles,
As I did in lives before,
And follow down her moonbeam path
To the secret, inner door.
~DJ Conway, Moon Song~

Baba's Seed Fingers

noreply@blogger.com (Imogen Crest) — Sat, 11 Mar 2006 06:44:00 +0000

Spell Story

noreply@blogger.com (faucon of Sakin'el) — Sat, 11 Mar 2006 00:21:00 +0000

SLEEP CHANT

The shaman hundled near the pulsing flames
that his shadow might touch the sleeping forms.
His chant had not soft thought nor whisper voice,
but drifted within his spirit pride alone.

“nock dwee, Unin, Uli
prantok forushe,
shey, shey chanoo.”

These spake ancient words reached out and beyond
to protect the children and grant slumbered peace,
or so thought crone trained magick prince of dawn.

“Nay,” laughed the fairies of dew whispered ferns,
“This prayer is that you stay awake and bright.
‘tis your vigilent trust that gives them peace!”

“Open my eyes, Light by Light
morning will break
night spirits depart”

Even these murmered words by meaning unknown
can guide the soul on a journey unfold.

A Reading With Intuition

noreply@blogger.com (Heather Blakey) — Wed, 08 Mar 2006 11:09:00 +0000

In the Land of Spells and Enchantments Intuition, one of the guardians of the Lemuria Mysteries, offers to look through her third eye and do a reading for you.

Shattered Crystals

noreply@blogger.com (faucon of Sakin'el) — Tue, 07 Mar 2006 14:00:00 +0000

Crystal Magick

There are many who believe,
beyond reason,
in the power of some crystals
as conduits for magickal powers
slightly known.

It is a proud certainty
worth knowing,
that crystals do link energy
in ways observable and sensed,
but scientific.

For crystals have excitons,
always have;
a balanced neutral bound state
between electron and empty space,
a hole in truth.

This balance can be disturbed,
nay excited,
by any input of energy --
light, mental, spiritual or kinetic,
by chance or will.

Some are more in tune than not,
perhaps adept,
and one's trust level and belief
may be deemed magickal for sure,
or wished perhaps.

And if another loves you more,
never enough,
because you help them selflessly
it is profoundly magickal
in form and spirit.

So it matters not at all,
invisibly,
that a crystal is inert in fact
and only a conduit for your love,
shared today.

ChangeAbout's Puppets

noreply@blogger.com (Heather Blakey) — Mon, 06 Mar 2006 12:25:00 +0000

Are you feeling like a puppet on a string? Be wary of the Enchanter, MrChangeAbout, who likes to pull the strings and make people dance to his tune.

Another View

noreply@blogger.com (faucon of Sakin'el) — Mon, 06 Mar 2006 11:00:00 +0000

I arrived at in this land via another portal,
and apparently missed 'now'
by a decade or two.

I found the Enchantress (or is it Baba)
calling up the dawn --
or just appreciating it -- one.

I cannot describe the music I heard --

and something must be left
for your imagination.

Meeting Baba Again

noreply@blogger.com (Imogen Crest) — Mon, 06 Mar 2006 10:24:00 +0000

Meeting Baba again,

cautious to watch my words,

asking about the Land of

Spells and Enchantments.

"Where is it?" she said, looking

at me sharply. "It's everywhere."

"Everywhere?"

Some quick steps forward,

taken to a tree at sunset.

Baba's apron hung full of seed bounty.

Seeds in the grass, seeds on the

limbs and boughs.

"I see."

Waving her wizened hands wide,

of a beauty like sun-baked

rock, sturdy, knowing and complete.

"This tree is like that now, and it

will be like something else come sunrise."

Nodding, to me it seemed so, it was true.

"Not magic?" I said.

"Oh magic of a kind, but you

must see it. See it for what it is."

"It is magic then," I said.

Saying nothing, she placed a gathering

of seeds in my palm. They

were warm from her

sunbaked hands.

Staff Spell

noreply@blogger.com (faucon of Sakin'el) — Sun, 05 Mar 2006 11:43:00 +0000

This is an ancient tradition that one's
staff (walking stick) should never be purchased,
but gifted or found. Either way,
(for those inclined) it should be invested
by walking under the full moon,
and issuing a spell/prayer ...

This is one I created from
scant translations of intent
from several languages:

Staff Spell

Come Goddess
to this ritual of paced enchantment.
Smile Mistress of the Night
as this new staff walks a league in silence.
Embrace Mother Earth
as power draws up from nature's pulse.
Absorb the Father,
last lingering warmth of yesteryear.
Behold the ever wand
of the squire of the approaching dawn.
Strength of arm,
peace of spirit,
depth of soul;
by bond conduct the song of everbe.

noreply@blogger.com (Gail Kavanagh) — Sun, 05 Mar 2006 10:15:00 +0000

While I was looking around the market in the land of spells and enchantments, I found my old friends the gypies plying their wares. They gave me the secrets of the Gypsy fortune stones to share with you.
Gypsies are full of enchantments and believe in magic - they always go up the Faraway Tree when the Land of Spells and Enchantments is there to stock up.
Gypsies make their own fortune stones by painting the symbols on small river stones or glass stones and keeping them in a soft velvet bag, big enough to fit round your hand. To read the stones, take a handful from the bag aty the time of the full moon and throw them in front of you. Read the stones that fall face up first. If any fall face down, read these last - they are secrets just for you to know.
You must chant this poem when you are casting the stones:

Stone O'Leary, Stones O'Leary,
By the full moon show me clearly.
Give to me an answer now
Show me what I have to know.
Let my eyes see far this night,
That I may live my future right.

The meanings:

Water: A long journey, as the Irish say, `across the water'
Sun: Success, brilliance
Star: Luck. Your wish will come true
Heart: Love and happiness
Wheel: Change, for good or ill
Bag of Gold: Luck with money
Moon: Pay heed to your dreams
Eye: Querent, truth
Grain: Harvest, outcome
Dagger: Danger, an enemy
Rings: A wedding, a reason to celebrate

Fortune Teller

noreply@blogger.com (Bobbi) — Sun, 05 Mar 2006 01:13:00 +0000

Heather Gaze

noreply@blogger.com (faucon of Sakin'el) — Sat, 04 Mar 2006 13:18:00 +0000

One may gaze and self-amaze
at what they see of when,
and may not like this reflection
of how they are perceived --

but if thy soul be of nature,
then love will shine forth
most naturally,
and give some view
of eternity.

The Crystal Ball

noreply@blogger.com (Heather Blakey) — Sat, 04 Mar 2006 11:28:00 +0000

le Enchanteur holds up the Crystal Ball. What is the message of her ball?

Forest of Enchantments

noreply@blogger.com (Heather Blakey) — Fri, 03 Mar 2006 12:16:00 +0000

Beware the Forest of Spells and Enchantments for this is where Baba Yaga Lives. Those who enter her house will spend a lot of time sorting seeds and grain and doing other work for her. But Baba has knowledge about spells that is well worth learning.

Everyone gathers, expectant, each looking forward to visiting the land of spells and enchantments.

The Enchantress tells us all that our guide is the doll she is giving each of us. (Find a doll or make one) She tells us that if we should lose our way, or be in need of help, all we have to do is ask the doll what to do. She says that the doll will assist, that we must keep her with us at all times, that we must not tell anyone we meet about her and that we must feed her when she is hungry and give her drinks if she is thirsty

You greet your doll and introduce yourself and when you look up again everyone has gone.

The doll says that you have to go through the Forest of Enchantments and ask the old lady who lives by the lake the way to the main market place where all the purveyors of spells and enchantments are gathered. She assures you that she will know how to get there. Having read all your fairy stories you realise that going to ask the Baba Yaga anything could prove interesting.

Baba Yaga is the fearsome creature, the crooked woman whose nose is hooked like a bird of prey. Her name means 'to know, to see, to forsee' and she is the seer associated with the moon crescent. The Baba Yaga has the power to transform herself into a myriad of shapes, often a toad, sometimes a hedgehog, frequently a bird. The Baba Yaga is often depicted as an evil old hag who eats humans, especially children, but she is known by many to be a wise, prophetic old woman. In appearance she is tall, bony legged, pointy headed and has dishevelled hair.

Your doll informs you that the hut she lives in has a fence around it made of human bones and topped with human skulls and eyes intact. The gate is fastened with human legs and arms instead of bolts and a mouth with sharp teeth serves as the lock.

According to the doll, who seems to be a font of information, one person who lived to tell the story said that "she commands the sun and it obeys her, she changes the stars in their course, she causes clouds to form in the air and makes it possible to walk on them and travel the country. She can turn herself into a young woman and then, in a twinkling of an eye turn herself back into an old woman. She has to the power to turn a man into an animal and she likes to move freely along roads and valleys and over mountains. Her business is to cast spells, gather herbs and stones, make pacts and agreements."

Right! you think.

As you climb through the hole in the clouds you realise you are in the Forest of Enchantments.

Document your time there and your time with the Baba Yaga who, of course, will set you tasks before helping you to reach the main market place.

Land of Spells and Enchantments

noreply@blogger.com (Heather Blakey) — Thu, 09 Feb 2006 06:02:00 +0000

le Enchanteur in the Land of Spell and Enchantments meditates upon the power of her dream seeds.

NOTE: for me, MAGIC is of the performing kind that I do rather well -- slight-of-hand,prestidigitation and such. So 'that other stuff',I call MAGICK, just not to confuse

....................................................................................
Tried Magick

I tried to do magick through spells found in a dusty book,
but my glasses kept falling from my nose,
and the grammar was so terrible
I don't think I got it right. But …
you made some coffee anyway, like you always do.

I attempted to see wonders in a copper scrying bowl,
yet I only saw my gristled image
and laughed outright in comedy
and spilt the future certainty. But …
you sang a song at sunrise, though you were away.

I prayed in each ritual direction guided by the clock,
but sneezed some during the smudging rite
and stepped on the Priestess' trailing cloak,
and had to hide 'till after dark. But …
you still hugged me closely, as only you can do.

I got jelly on the Tarot cards and dropped the pendulum,
and stirred paint with this old twisted stick
and can hear Dorkus shrieking still,
and can't stand the third degree. But …
you said that you would marry me, such a special gift.

I think I'll give up on magick and take a walk instead,
where strangers wave at me in passing
and I can see moonlight on the lake,
and perhaps skip a rock or two. But …
you will come and laugh beside me, just because I do.

by faucon of Sakinel