March 13, 2017

timothy bodfellow went to bed

hundreds of earwigs danced on his head

timothy bodfellow rose in alarm

checked out of the inn and returned to the farm

he dug in the mud and giggled a lot

earwigs victorious, timothy not



March 12, 2017

When, in a queendom far away and long ago, the Queen gave birth to identical twin girls, a soothsayer was summoned to say the sooth.

Regarding the infants with his deeply knowing eyes, the soothsayer said, ‘They must be parted before they reach the age of ten, never more to meet again.’

The Queen said, ‘What is this nonsense? What do you mean? Tell me more if you would leave this palace alive.’

The soothsayer said, ‘The sooth has been said.’ And so saying, the soothsayer disappeared in twin spires of smoke, one spire green, the other blue.

It took all the skills of the chamberlain, the domo, and even the cook to soothe the Queen’s wrath at the sooth said by the soothsayer. Peace was restored to a manageable degree in three weeks time, and work on a great wall separating the queendom into halves was undertaken. With tenderest care, plans were drawn for an eastern palace to be built for the Princess Mandy to occupy on her 10th birthday. At the same time, plans for Princess Sally’s western palace were also scriven on the finest vellum.

The pair of princesses passed the years as inseparable companions. They were kind and loving, a delight to one and all. The Princess Mandy always wore blue. The Princess Sally always wore green. Such was the single way to tell them apart. For their startling orange hair and deepest blue eyes fair brought all who saw them an initial gasp followed by a quivering in the knees.

At last separation day was  almost upon them, and they met in the garden.

‘We will meet again,’ whispered Mandy.

‘We will meet again,’ whispered Sally.

Ten years passed. Princess Mandy brooded in the eastern palace. Princess Sally brooded in the western palace. Despite their frequent efforts, the great wall had triumphed in keeping them apart.

Carrot, Mandy’s jester, worried about her kind mistress. While mending a tunic, Carrot suddenly stood up from the bench and said, ‘I will do something about this!’

At that very same instant in the western palace, Celery, Sally’s jester, flung down her knitting and cried, ‘I will do something about this!’

What did the two jesters do? They each went to the wall and requested a jester exchange. The wall official saw no reason to deny the request. Celery went to Mandy in the east. Carrot went to Sally in the west. And cleverness blossomed in the two palaces when the jesters changed identities with the pair of princesses.

Mandy approached the wall, trembling in the pale togs and raggedy boots of Celery. On the other side of the wall, Sally, for her part, quivered in the orange patch silks and green boots of Carrot. The wall officials yawned and opened the doors to the passage, one on each side. The sisters rushed to embrace.

The flames tore around the queendom, consuming it to the last leaf, the last twig. Arms around each other, blended, slender, the sisters sat joyous in the charred landscape.



March 11, 2017

Loon: In quite an astonishing turn of events, the Lords of the 4th Dimension have delivered to us today for the 3 Question Interview a famous elephant, Jumbo. And not only that, they have assured me that ghost elephants are able to speak. With this in mind, I greet you, Jumbo, with the following question. Did the post office deliver your fan mail in sacks or barrels?

Jumbo’s ghost: Barrels? Are you kidding? What’s wrong with you? I got plenty of mail in sacks, of course.

Loon: Okay. Second question. Did you ever have an omelet?

Jumbo’s ghost: Did I what? Look, pal, if I stomped on your foot, it wouldn’t be a pleasant experience for you. For me? I won’t lie. It would be a pleasure.

Loon: Final question. Did you go skiing even once? (Loon flees room)

Jumbo’s ghost (in hot pursuit): Why, I oughta …’



March 10, 2017

The old lady went into the river, but of course only in the movie. Edmund apologized and treated the actress to tea after the scene was completed.



March 9, 2017

Here is Edmund Gwenn:

a. indicating to the Girl Scout most emphatically that he doesn’t want to buy any cookies.

b. exhorting Mickey Rooney to take it down a few notches.

c. reacting with some concern at the approach of Franklin Pangborn.

d. about to shove the old lady into the river.



March 8, 2017



March 7, 2017

There once was a gremlin named Bill

Who did nothing but sit on a hill

”That’s no way to act!”

Cried his sister, Marge Dact

But he shrugged, and he’s sitting there still



March 6, 2017

The rest of my party came through unscathed. I, however, was scathed to within an inch of my life.



March 5, 2017

Once during a time of uneasy peace, a storyteller roamed from village to village. This storyteller wore a tattered green cloak and a drooping gray stocking cap. When news of her approach arrived, the elders would send all the children to gather in the square while they themselves hid away in cellars, not making a sound and hardly daring to breathe. And when she left, the villagers would mourn for the lost one, give thanks for the saved.

And so one day it happened that the children of Wheatfield, a village serenaded by a nearby stream, were gathered in the square awaiting the arrival of the storyteller. They were all quietly terrified, never before having experienced a storyteller visit. That is, all save one were terrified. Clever Tamitha, the blacksmith’s daughter, wasn’t the least bit afraid. She had heard about the so called ‘horrible’ storyteller, of course, and now she was eager to see her.

‘Finally,’ she announced to the crouched, huddled together, and quivering children of the village, ‘we get to hear what this scary storyteller woman has to say. I’d like to see her try to scare me with some silly story. Ha!’

The huddled children exchanged glances, eyes flaring up with the tiniest flickers of hope. For you see, they all knew about Clever Tamitha and how she was smarter by far than anybody ever had been in the history of Wheatfield.

‘Who will answer?’ cried a cracked voice from beyond the village wall.

“I will!’ shouted Tamitha in reply.

Bony hands, green flash of cloak, drooping cap, withered face, scraggly white hair, these appeared all of a moment on the path at the head of the square. A wide crooked smile revealed the razor teeth.

‘You?’ asked the storyteller, voice flavored with scorn. It must be said here that Tamitha, the only child standing, was small and thin.

‘Me,’ said Tamitha, arms folded across her chest in defiance.

‘Very well,’ said the storyteller with a cackle. ‘One of three Wishes I offer thee, the Wish of Ice, One, the Wish of Wind, Two, and the Wish of Fire is number Three. Choose your story wisely.’

Tamitha thought hard. In icy winter the stream froze. Fields of grain waved wildly in stormy winds. The ember glow at her father’s forge were for Tamitha a comfort.

‘Three,’ said Tamitha.

Green flash of cloak, thunder clap, a fiery number 3 raced from the sky at Tamitha and consumed her. The storyteller left. The villagers mourned the lost one, gave thanks for the saved.

And where Tamitha lived the birds sang sweetly and the garden grew lovely flowers.



March 4, 2017

when one is old

one no longer springs from one’s chair


one rises with care