Sunday, January 9, 2011

Wicked Mobile Enchanting Chantings

Walled In Pond of Ansonia-Narnsia Center haunted by neonic green croaking sounds of batrachians by night, and still, algae infested surface waters by day veiling the lurkers of the depths.  On the shores of Walled In Pond are several evergreens with blue needles adorned by ornaments hung over the prickly branches on hemp strings.  Orange peels, oat rings, berries, holly, pine cones, hippic charms with "peace, love, and happiness" etched into their sides, all hung from the blue spiny limbs like season-less flowers emitting shimmering organic charmicked photons not even a five minutes caper from Walled In Pond  sunshine dappled-laced meadow romp.

Walled In Pond of Ansonia-Narnsia Center was attributed its name due to the mortar bricks and metal walls one feels when one follows the wooden walk way as if the machine heart of concrete shardic sky scraper platforms insidiously breathed down one's neck at this particular locale.  In order to prove to purist Thoreau readers who claim nature is always peaceful, tranquil, placidic and medicine for the soul, the chimerical Council of Dragoons of Narnsia, imagined itself into the real Ansonia Center and built lightning bug lantern trails during orange industrial sunset twilit vernal hours that impress the sensation of neonic lit gridded city streets.

The quantum mechanical abstractic bower at Walled In Pond - grass waving in the wind echoing the sounds of the concrete plain of the city metal shard platform - is a charmic, engineered, electronic dew drop with twinkling iridescent LED lights and serves as a mobile to adorn a rib of the earth rock buried in the shining resplendent yellow bosom of the sun.

Oh Cat Meadow, where be thy mellows and your rainbow umbrella sun shade. The stress static of machine city cores permeate like the American Language rift-hold on the tongue of the world.  Let you me hang your mobile here; pine cone, blue wood, garlic, dragonflye and all - an intergalactic earthen charm fabricated by crow feather oil and sticks from the woods haunted by egg shape domed UFOs - and may your soothing, capricious, musical, mellifluous thoughts lead you down the path of these words to pass the whiles...


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