USA Wind:



I watched the tall grasses swaying, whipping, hanging on,

The sun was bright in the hot fast spring air,

Kites were flying high, high overhead,

Leaning into the wind I walked along the prarie path,

Where hawks circled and soared far above,

On my way to the place of sunshine and golden grass,

Left overs from last year awaiting fire or new growth,

I saw the dead soldiers that had won the war.



Their skeletal remains stood over the remnants,

The remains of the childhood of a nation,

They were rusted and broken,

Missing vanes like limbs lost to blasts,

More like hailstones, high winds,

Corrosion and neglect,

They and their farms surrounded,

Suburban cookie-cutter houses and town houses,

Mute testimony to once lush fields and a slower life,

The priceless water they'd given had made life possible,

Two continents dependent on their whirling arms,

And here and there, here and there,

You can see a whirligig with fresh paint,

All it's blades straight and true,

Though the pumper shafts seldom touch the wellheads,

And most often they're furled and immobile,

Yet go down Argentina way,

Or maybe to the vast ranches of the American West,

And you'll still find them tirelessly at battle,

Bringing life from the vast Earth gallon by gallon,

Year after year after year,

And if you have good money and open land,

You can still find them new,

Sons of the Aermotor clan,

And there's the tale of the Jacobs,

Left alone at an Antarctic outpost for twenty years,

Still turning and delivering electricity,

To an empty building that saved a few desperate souls in need,

So is that continent number three?



The new soldiers are starting to grow now,

They harvest a different crop,

They take wind and give lightning,

Clean clear power for the growing urban demand,

Standing tall they dwarf their ancestors,

Their feet grown upon the farms or shoals,

They stand upon land and water and deliver,

And their forward charge will someday render irrelevant,

The dark visages of the twin poison monsters,

Oil, sir, and coal, oh no,

They are like the beneficient angels,

Clean crisp white wings twirl endlessly,

Saving farms and lungs the world over,

Heroes that we are just learning of slowly,

In a battle too few understand,

And so like Don Quixote,

I recognize Giants when I see them.



AquarianM



By: Daniel A. Stafford

(C) 04/18/2003



Author's Comments:

New Aermotor mills and parts can be found at:


Dean-Bennet / Aermotor


I'm hoping to do a documentary piece on these mills

around my local area soon, and also will be reading

some of these wind poems for a benefit to help

fund Sheboygan, Wisconsin's Earthfest this May.

If that goes well, I will be giving a full length poetic performance

with also a speech on Midwest wind energy potential

and wind energy in general at Earthfest in Sheboygan this

coming August. And so yes, Dan Quixote is still tilting

at wind mills. Titlting a salute, that is. For an excellent

source of information about wind energy potential,

politics, projects, how to's, and far more, please visit:


The American Wind Energy Association

Wonderful news... The Grand Enchantress of Earthfest is goibng to squeeze me into the *SCHEDULE* spell and let me recite a couple of *incantations* at the benefit function. If all goes well and the *Spellpower* flows nicely, I'll be welcomed to the full Earthfest for a complete *mejik* show. This will include an *educational* discourse on *WIND ENERGY* and also I will be handing out postcards from the *AWEA* Wind Masters Council. All in all, it should be quite wonderful indeed. I will also be travelling with an old friend, a *HUMOUR* whizzyrd named Art Paul Schlosser who does some interesting and funny *mejik* incantations of his own.

Some of the spells below are also *Sea Spells* and *Garden* spells, but most are *WIND ENERGY* spells.

Another little project I'm up to: I am trying to *convince* the promoters of a festival called Earthfest in the Monotnusverse to allow me to present some of my *WIND ENERGY* spells aloud at the fest this year. *WIND ENERGY* is a very powerful mejik that can help operate many, many types of spells in the Monotnusverse without utilizing evel *POLLUTION* mejik. *POLLUTION* mejik does things like killing living creatures, *poisoning* waterways, heating up the Ayre, making it harder for whizzyrds to breathe, and eventually they could even render the Monotnusverse lifeless by overheating it so badly nothing can survive. (Although the Evel Eryl whizzyrds that use mejik powered by *POLLUTION* mejik will not admit this, no matter how many *evidence* spells are sent to them.) If the Earthfest Grand Whizzyrds are kind, I will read some very interesting spells, and possibly give a brief lecture on the many benefits of powering spells with *WIND ENERGY*

Some of the spells I have in mind are: (You can view these in my collection at Lightverse.com.)

Sea Shells Turn
Down Home Green
Lush
Northern Lights Weeping
Earthwise
City Garden
Wind Blown
Fresh Country Air
Zephyr
The Magic Of A Breeze
Spinnerette
The Firewater Conspiracy
Cities On The Edge
Whirligig Way
The Alchemy Of Flutter And Howl

I certainly welcome opinions on this, simply click on the *Mejik Quill and Parchment* spell at the top of my little corner of the Blogverse and send me a missive. If it's really good, I may even *quote* you here...(granted your *permission*, of course.)

Just a tidbit here, I am going to use Blogverse mejik to allow you to LISTEN to some of my spells. There are a few Christmas spells, and then there is a bluesey little piece called "She Was Blue".

*She Was Blue*


*The Electric Elf*

*Whissler's Paradise*

*Calling All Snowflakes*

*Snow Down*


I Hope you enjoy!

Laine's Cry:

Where my eyes fell into the small
There was beauty in the details,
Un-noticed and unseen until your voice,
Humming wordless in the thin air,
Though you spoke not a whit,
Still I heard the oceans' endless roar,
The cycles of life passing,
Just behind your ecstatic eyes.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 04/10/2003

Author's Comments:
Crafted in response to C.E. Laine's poem,
"Silent."

I have been working very hard on the new keep at *Word Whizzyrds* with new whizzyrds' robes and scrolls and beautiful *POETRY* spells. Please feel free to take a look over there. I've purposely kept it pretty simple, and I hope to maintain that simplicity. I will be adding small *spells* and tweaks as well as *mejikal* services and items for sale. I am also starting to delve into *Wind Mejik* as well - and the very first *Wind Energy* robe is now available. I plan to develope a complete line of both *POETIC* and *Wind Energy* products and *mejikal* services over the coming moons. There is also a quarterly *missive*, the Word Whizzyrds' Scroll that you can *subscribe* to, and I encourage you to do so. It will feature site upgrades, public appearances, *poems*, and selected *Wind Energy* news.

It fascinates me how operation Iraqi Freedom is becoming operation Iraqi Jubilation. I hope this is true - and that our boys fought and died for something good. It has been very difficult for me to write as this issue keeps spilling over into my writing like some kind of *spell* or *Hekz*. I am diligently working on *counter potions* to make room in my portion of the collective undermind for everyday life and magic.

The Cathedral Of Spring:

The place where we were married,
Funny date that,
January 01, 2001,
01/01/01,
At 1:10 a.m.,
And bless them,
They gave us room 111,
The sky that next morning,
On our unplanned wing-it return,
That was perfect blue,
Seventy three and birds singing,
Just a slow breeze through bare trees,
We walked the trails up,
Walked the trails down,
The trees still bare and last year's brown,
The leaves were mostly on the ground, mostly,
A few must have clung on high and long,
Maybe to overlook Winter's rule and white cloak,
But that was passing and we walked the ridges,
Hearing birds singing in the distant maze of branches,
Hawks soaring over olive green river and weathered limestone,
Looking down the canyons sheer and sharp,
All the blasphemous that had carved names in God's place,
Maybe they didn't understand, maybe,
Down along the creek In Saint Louis Canyon,
Well past Starved Rock's towering rocks of sorrow,
Along the thin shallow trickle of water through dead leaves,
Fallen trees and branches uncovered before the leaves hiding green,
We walked into Saint Louis and down to the Cathedral of Seasons,
The fall was thawed now and flowing cool and singing off the stone,
It's burbling voice in the cool shaded air the reflection,
Ten thousand drops per hour sparkling bursts on yellow limestone,
Lichens and moss clinging here and about,
The glacier carved shallow caves like galleries for the faithful,
The standing stone overlooking the base of the fall like an altar,
And we held hands in silence to look and listen,
I put my free hand up and my love raised hers,
Two leaves floating down from above to land in cupped palm,
Different, one larger one smaller and subtle changes of hue and shape,
Yet the same and the smaller leaf nestled gently in the curls of the larger,
I took Spring's gift and placed it in a small stone alcove safe,
I spoke the wish to write this prayer,
And in that instant a thousand leaves fell all around us as She breathed,
The wind rushing over the top of the canyon just long enough,
And all the myriad incarnations of "yes" came floating down around us,
I laid my hand upon the stone and watched breathing soft,
Carried away what detritus of the unknowing unfaithful I found,
As we walked out along the path that glowed,
Sparkling with billions of silica bits catching afternoon sun underfoot,
And there was no question it was blessed Spring.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 04/06/2003

Author's Comments:
This was last Sunday at Starved Rock State Park,
Exactly as it occurred, and every event took place exactly as
it's written. The magic, well, that my friends you have to
see on your own.

The last couple of Suns have ben quite enjoyable. I've found a new *ZAZZLE* spell that I've put into place at my keep, www.whizzyrds.com, and it allows me to conjure beautiful finery and fashion for interested whizzyrds.

Fire Angel:

Walk upon the still waters,
Pouring down in silent sunshine,
The waves of blue that touch a poet's soul,
This vision of peace a gift,
Bow your head in silent prayer,
Nevertheless,
God hears you as clear,
As the color of your heart,
In that cool blue moment.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 04/04/2003

Read the blog of Salam Pax. I hope he can continue and is unhurt in that place of danger that is his home. I am sorry for the non-combatants. When this war is over, I will try to donate to helping these people recover. Sort of put my *greenspells* where my mouth is.

Those fingers of blame are certainly a nasty weapon. Heard an interesting new term yesterday, "weapons of mass distraction". I'm not so sure that isn't true of what is happening.

It saddens me greatly to witness the destruction and harm going on inside Iraq.I hope that this war ends soon, and that people may go about their lives in peace there. I do not wish to waste time pointing fingers of blame at anyone, it is too late for that. I will craft many *PRAYER* spells for peace to come to that poor tortured place.

Unfortunately the juxtaposition passed with too little spell energy, the sorceress was missing a key spell. Perhaps another will be found.

Hmmm... I detect the possible juxtaposition of concurrent positive spell energy between my whizzyrdly self and a sorceress in the know, that may bring one of my mundanitieverse spell dreams to *fruition*. It's still just a tenuous web in the eythre, but it COULD turn out. I cast a scroll on a gentle breeze in a *hopeful* spirit, perhaps the Good Spirit may shine on this...

AQM

Walking The Razor:

May God as he is bless the children,
His sons and daughters are far from home,
They come in so many colors,
Forgetting they are leaves of one tree,
As we must forget blame,
Grace the innocent with safety,
Grace the dutiful with speed and swift homecoming,
And when the whirling sands all fall,
Grant us all peace and joy of life,
In brotherhood and harmony,
Every step having been correctly placed,
Walking division's razor.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 03/19/2003

Author's Comments:
We need the light of every soul in prayer in these times.

Cocklebur & Rush:

That uniquely all pervasive stickiness,
And it's attendant wave-in-the-breeze plumage,
All wrapped up in honey-gold tones,
A staple of snowless Midwest in Fall and Winter,
In this year of bare ground,
See the snow's blanket is thrown off again,
And the sunlight meets it's Earthly duty,
Exposing the prairie bones left between suburbs,
In small woods and glens and all the creeks' windings,
The secret little friends that hide and dart,
Have known these two for eons,
And I all the years of my life.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 03/13/2003

Author's Comments:
Just after Summer, just before Spring, and in recent years,
Much of Winter. Tawny IS the official color of the Midwest.
This land is so rich in tones of Earth's own golds.

Turn It On A Dime:

Take the wheel of that heart you drive,
No one else has the key,
Spin it on a dime,
A complete one-eighty to keep you alive,
Healthy, happy, whole,
Soul deep in the best parts of happiness,
A place only faith can fuel your heart to,
Understand the words you say,
Looking in the mirror at your own eyes,
They hold all the power in your universe,
Your own miracle mile you will drive,
When you love yourself,
By treating yourself to only good,
In words, in thoughts, in deeds,
And the red flashing lights of ill fortune,
Await the first sign of rushing too fast,
To add fuel to telling yourself to fear,
To doubt or expectations you must cry,
Take the wheel of that heart you drive,
No one else has the key,
Spin it on a dime,
A complete one-eighty to keep you alive,
Healthy, happy, whole,
Soul deep in the best parts of happiness,
A place only faith can fuel your heart to,
Understand the words you say,
Looking in the mirror at your own eyes,
They hold all the power in your universe,
For how you bespeak yourself,
If you see yourself so,
How can God do anything,
But follow your choice of roads,
Or see anything different than what you see?

This is the truth of freedom of choice.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 03/11/2003

Author's Comments:
If you see yourself as good and happy,
so will God. If you see yourself as bad or sad,
so will God. It's all there in what you say to you.

The Sun Is Shining Down:

Even on the darkest day,
No matter the black clouds and rain,
Above there is one thing no clouds may change,
The Sun is shining down upon the Earth,
In time these clouds will blow away,
And after the rains must come the light,
Cycle after cycle cold then warm,
Never forget that simple fact,
The Sun is shining down.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 03/08/2003

Author's Comments:
No troubles last forever.

Blue Waves On Yellow Sands:

I was contemplating late in the night,
Cross-legged on the beach under the stars,
The day had been all restful soul,
In a place that reaches you wholly under the skin,
The winds blow cool under a powder blue sky,
Gentle clouds catch your eye and dance,
Soft yellow sand cradles the blue waves,
"Huuuush, huuush, huuuush": they whisper loudly,
So long and endless they fall under your mind,
Sea gulls float and glide and search,
Any bit of food or a twig to play with,
Parasols and lawn chairs and distant lone sails,
So when evening falls and they sky turns to pink,
Finally washed in deep red and indigo,
The lights of Chicago across the waves,
The stars straight up at night,
The tall tall grasses rustling in tune,
Wind and wave and sand and stars,
You forget to wonder,
Where,
Why,
How,
You are.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 03/04/2003

Author's Comments
A very real place I love to be.

Time Bombs And Serenades:

That calendar rolled like a tank,
Blew holes in all the "might have beens",
Just like a mushroom cloud omelet,
Fast and furious from fifteen to fifty,
Pale ghosts blew out the door like Grand Central,
And Baby, I just ever wanted you to know,
It's a kiss now or regret later world,
Hey, ain't any hurry but dinner's got cold,
The table's made of plastic since the sucker was set,
But it was formica and chrome when the oven was lit,
I heard Mario Lanza on vinyl catch me quite by surprise,
I had red roses and homemade ravioli in my heart,
I had a violin I was afraid to play under the window,
And the minute you pushed me away,
Damn, how I miss...
The friggin' omelet went off.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 03/03/2003

Author's Comments:
Time doesn't stop in the same place twice.
Never waste a good "I love you."
(Old missin's.)

Bearcat Seven:

The sky is blue,
All I hear is the rumble,
No clouds to duck under,
Over or around,
Below the water sparkles,
Islands rush by at 400 knots,
And the radio is silent,
I'm low down on the deck,
My partner playing eagle,
Trying to flush bad birds out of the palms,
And suddenly black clouds burst,
Flack on my palm Sunday,
And a leaping Zero makes my heart race,
My eagle is in trouble,
Upon high and screaming in a dive,
I race up from the deck,
Under the Zero's belly,
Pop my tracers on his guts,
Break sharp to portside,
As black smoke billows and debris flames out,
A cartwheel upon the waves,
And he sinks into blue silence,
My wingman waggles and we walk tracers,
Dropping the heat on the pillboxes,
One look at the gauges and we're off,
These thirsty birds begging for the roost,
Eagle and I give it they eye,
A couple of holes in him,
But minor he's going back to the sandbox,
And it's one more day of alive,
For Eagle three and Bearcat seven,
Tires chirp smoke on the tarmac,
The radio's chatter with instructions,
Flagging port and stop on the flightline,
Chief's screamin bloody murder,
"You let 'im wop my bird",
And the WACs are wavin'
Sneaky how peaceful,
Palms and surf can seem,
But you never know what's poppin',
Here in the Philippines.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 02/25/2003

Author's Comments:
Back when it was up close and
personal comparatively speaking.

Fishing The Sea:

The sands were red today,
And they were floating,
Belly up like fish,
Tangled in the weave of wire,
Shredded like fish on dynamite,
A bit here or there...

Seventeen and lied about less,
In their gloriously lost thousands,
I wonder if they all had mustaches,
But the sun will never know,
What the sharks packed away that day,
Thank God the sweethearts and mothers,
Left at home with just paper to see...

In their blackened and burned hundreds,
The legions of Hell walked among them,
Pointing to this or that,
But they were as frustrated as ever,
For they could not stop them,
As the smoke rose from the wells,
Steel rain fell in the trenches...

You see the ghosts at times,
In their silver chairs,
In their parades or on the walls,
And the ones you do not see,
Tucked away behind white walls screaming,
God I wish we could give them all back,
The pieces and souls we asked they leave behind.

Agreement is not universal,
With those who wrote the sending,
But the givers,
Those all we can say to is thank you,
For we know it was duty done,
And just who it was really for...
As far as I can see.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 02/25/2003

Author's Comments:
Regardless of what I or anyone else thinks of
the morality or justness of war, the soldier on the field
is doing his duty as sworn, no matter the side. This is the lot
of the common man under the thumb...and not where choices
are much granted.

While The Sun Is Shining:

I will forget that rain exists,
I will rejoice in a day of peace,
The splendor of light,
The warmth upon my back,
I see the light as our boys all come home,
Joyous and relieved,
For the stars of peace and harmony,
They will shine bright and full,
But I will be here walking,
Amongst the golden trees and grasses,
Looking over the shoreline,
Seeing all the world's ships coming in,
Knowing I will be finally reading happy headlines,
Because the bright serenity of morning,
I have utter faith it shall come.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 02/27/2003

Author's Comments:
Something to hold close to heart,
For the tone of our hearts creates the tone
of our lives. May you all walk in the sunshine.

A Sea Of Glass:

The white sails were silent and unmoving,
The flag lying draped immobile upon the mast,
The sunset was vast and indelibly warm,
Tears were draped across eyes,
All the decks awash yet not in pain,
Sheer delight and joy our Captain,
The brass under hand held us steady,
As we leaned and watched the stars rise,
The fish of the seas looked down into our eyes,
And the sea of night lovingly swallowed us whole,
A comet fell across the waveless expanse,
And we feared to break the treasure of silence,
Never dipping an oar to follow it away,
Little did we know then of angels,
But they sang our treasures upon the distant reaches,
Those sands of our tomorrow such gentle breezes hold,
And the fragile red wood of our boat,
It held us up to Heaven like babes in arm,
Even as our ship glided silently in from the sea,
Content to see the fires of home,
Our towers of light,
Upon the coming shores.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 02/27/2003

Author's Comments:
I am looking to find a beautiful place in the heart,
and hold to it like a glowing candle against the
dark night of false fears.

Boundaries Of Pictures:

A heart can be broken to look,
Joy may fly into a face in remembrance,
Cheeks may flush at the cringe,
Reality even seem to bend,
In the magic of artistic illusion,
Time may stop and start like an engine,
Racing into the great beyond,
All these lanes we drive so hard,
Yet you can twist the key 'til breaking,
Shift every lever you find,
But there is no reverse,
Not even the slightest brakes,
And that's what drives you to tears the most,
The universal law of the boundaries of pictures.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 02/23/2002

Author's Comments:
A life lesson reinforced yesterday.

The Light Of Understanding:

Understanding is a small candle,
Hard to find even in a dark room,
Flickering in the breezes that blow through our lives,
And no matter how close or loving,
The hand that tries to light the match,
It so often seems we must find it ourselves,
And when we do it's hard not to look,
For joyous or sad it fills our eyes,
With stinging smoke or sudden glaring light,
How I wish the arms of a hug,
Could turn your head just the right way,
So that you could see.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 02/18/2003

Author's Comments;
How many times have we all thought
this when a loved one was hurting?

Miracle List:

Sunshine upon golden hair,
Fine wine and wonderful dinners,
Eyes to see my love,
Warmth to hold her,
Plenty of cash to buy her gifts and flowers,
A life of plenty that doesn't come at other's expense,
Sweet music for romantic hours and hours,
Sand and sea and fun,
A beautiful place where we wish to be at home,
Candle light and starshine,
Both of us feeling fulfilled in our purpose of life,
Peace and harmony and happiness,
Safety and happiness for those we love,
Charity and kindness and good works,
Someone nice and inquisitive to teach,
The ability to help others in need,
The opportunity to do so,
This is my list of miracles,
I now claim by divine right,
And thank you God for granting these things,
To all who have the heart to ask you.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 02/18/2003

Author's Comments:
A prayer, a poem. Many times there is
little difference between them.

Freedom Of The Sun:

I want to go back to where my hair was long,
I want to rock on out to a bad guitar,
Bust out in the summer sunshine,
Get my eyes just so full and ride like the wind,
I want to walk under fast jets and smile up,
I want to dance in a concert without a care,
Feel the bass wash my body like an ocean of sound,
Turn on my dreams and bring them out loud,
And all the pieces I miss but cannot say,
Wish I could see them curl up close,
Just get blown away,
Let that guitar come on strong and rock me away.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 02/18/2003

Author's Comments:
Listening to some tunes from my high school
years and wishing I could have a vacation back in
that time knowin' all I know.

An Affair Of The Heart:

Day by day,
Note by note,
Our lives play,
Everyone takes it so for granted,
But we've been given the gift,
Incredible and magic and joyous,
Or sad and blue and washed out to sea,
Angry and devastated and blissful,
Every nuance in between,
This gold and platinum of the heart,
Take an ancient and put him in one day of ours,
He'd know instantly what riches I mean,
This gift we expect just like the air we breathe,
We've the richest gift of poetry to music,
This world has ever seen,
Voices that stroke our hearts in all shades,
How do we use it,
How do we choose it,
Take it away for a day,
And you'd see.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 02/18/2003

Author's Comments:
I wonder how many people realize how
graced our culture is with access to so many
different forms and styles of music?
It's unprecedented in history.

A Hushed New Voice:

Soft,
Husky and feminine,
An evening of gentle pull at the heart,
You can feel the soul in the hearing,
And wander in a tenderly longing atmosphere,
She brings the lights low,
The feeling tremulous and wanting,
The keystrokes and deep vocal reach,
All there in your ear like heart candy,
Reaches into you and calls you away,
Yeah the fire is burning smoky blue,
When Norah sings.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 02/10/2003

Author's Comments:
I've recently discovered the voice
and style of Norah Jones. It's like
a smooth whiskey blend of blues,
jazz, and lounge that fits perfectly
into a quiet enjoyable night.
norahjones.com

When Seven Angels Fall:

You won the sky,
All of you,
You reached for our dreams,
Never giving in,
You flew so high and so far,
And the sky reached out,
Calling you it's own.

Never fear that we shall fail,
To pursue the dream you gave up living for,
We shall miss you,
Give our arms and hearts to those you loved,
As we stand upon the Earth searching to Heaven,
The place where heroes go,
When seven angels fall.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
Author donated to public domain.

Author's Comments:
It is with great regret and a heavy heart that I
write these pitifully inadequate words in the
aftermath of losing Columbia's crew. These people gave
their lives in pursuit of the best things humanity aspires to.
Via con Dios, go with God, and we shall remember you.
Rick Husband, William McCool, Kalpana Chawla
David Brown, Mike Anderson, Laurel Clark
Ilan Ramon.

Please be aware I do not need or expect any reply. I wish to pay my respects to the individuals that passed and offer my condolences to their friends, colleagues, and most of all families. My heart goes out to you all.

Dan Stafford

Touch The Earth:

Upon all the cloud-decked dark as blackness stormy sky,
I reached out my hands to touch the wind,
Hair flowing back at the rain pounding my face,
Even with eyes closed I could tell in the moment,
The clouds opened up in five places,
The rays of sunshine carried down,
Voices of angels howled in the cyclone,
And the fingers of God fell upon the Earth,
Bringing warmth amid the tears,
I turned as the wind whipped me,
Opened my raw eyes,
And saw the double rainbow,
Two times the price of the covenant,
In payment for the gift of all these tears.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 02/01/2003

Author's Comments:
I've seen all the things I describe in person
at different times, except the angels were in my dreams.

Under The River (of Words)

I wrote the sunshine,
I wrote the blue sky,
I wrote rain,
I wrote snow,
I wrote a grey wall of cloud,
I wrote a warm flowered field,
I wrote the lovers running hand in hand there,
I wrote a child in swaddling clothes,
But I never wrote the end,
I had no idea how hard it would be,
Not to be there when the words came through.

I'm carried in black water where no one can see,
The ghosts walk in and out of me,
Like the wind through an open door,
Only silent angels sitting on clouds can smile.

Every drive by and I feel the pull,
That little place I came from knows me,
The river runs there silent and endless,
It pulls the tears from my hiding eyes,
When no one is looking the green water flows,
Just as the words fall from my blind fingers,
The river whispers of eating the banks,
The delicious bitterness of that change.

Run the maze,
Riddle me this,
When your heart is pulled from your chest,
Lies beating upon the pillow of black silk,
Do they watch to see if you stop before it does,
And do the answers rise in the frozen air,
With each steaming beat?

Please don't feed on anger,
Leave fear it is no more help,
When the ghosts call let them hold your hand,
I will remember,
I will love,
Even if you can't see enough,
Don't hold to Hell on my account,
I'll not look down on you if you fly,
Walk the fires to your own drummer,
Please don't hide your crying eyes,
This time is yours as you need,
And I'll ask no more of your clock,
Than you can bear to give.

I can't see their faces yet,
But the angels are smiling,
I can't hear their whispers yet,
But I can still find these damn blurred wet keys,
Walk under Heaven and say hello for me,
I'm still swimming here,
In all these colors under the river of words.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/27/2003

Author's Comments:
Don't think I don't care, but don't think you can't go,
if or when you need.

Spinning:

I feel my head is spinning,
So many details,
So many feelings,
So many tears awaiting cheeks,
Will the force of the spin,
Keep any of us standing,
Just like a top,
You can only fall,
After the spin...

Stops.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/19/2003

Author's Comments:
I'm out of here for the next few days.
Thank you all, and all of you be well.

Trumpets Gold Joy:

The Devil is pulling his tail on lonely street,
I see what dances 'round her head,
The angels will come and all the light,
Some of them I've missed since a boy,
Blue and gold and platinum,
Dance at the end of the rainbow I can not see,
I can feel the whispers,
Shiver my tender living bones,
Send me on to Sinai whirling,
Or falling softly through the clouds,
I know what they've come for,
This moment of birth and light of free soul,
At the edges of our vision God smiles,
As his herald trumpets gold joy.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/17/2003

Author's Comments:
Believe.

The Evel Kurz of Kanzer is upon my mother's mind, she is falling and not all my mejik can save her from the whims of the Faytes. The fingers of the *KURZ* are grown between her ears, and we are dreaming the dreams of stones, the ones that never come true. Only fourteen setting suns is the best guess of the sages, who speak with glazen eyes. In the blogverse or the realverse, this is a spell of Great Pain.

In The Teeth Of The Storm:

I had a vision a moment ago,
The porthole was opening,
The bird awaiting to fly free,
Outside was sunshine and calm seas.

So long had we sailed,
Tossed by the storm,
Upon the sea of your creation,
Masterful the skill of dodging your waves,
Even the ones from outside your world.

In the end the stones are too many,
We've crewed the lifeboats as you lie helpless,
And command by committee now reigns,
Your first and your second we shall carry on,
The third still sails the gale.

When the albatross flies home,
And the black skies of the heart are raging,
I'll remember the best of you,
In the teeth of the storm.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/17/2003

Author's Comments:
My mother is a fighter, fierce and unyielding,
but she is laid low by MS and Parkinson's both.
Things are not well right now, but even the bravest and
strongest cannot outlast time and elements, and these
fights are one no one alive knows how to win. It's been hard
on all of us her children living under such a captain, but
there are things worth knowing we learned as well.

I Fell Through:

I fell through the pain today,
Strange how cold looking up,
At the clear surface I can not break through,
How cold and numb the immersion,
Where I can no longer breathe,
Touch is gone to me now,
As life rewinds behind my eyes,
Above the snow is taking the light,
The cracks of my escape are freezing over,
I thought I left my dime in the fountain,
So many pennies in the wishing wells,
There is no bottom,
It's only inside the blackness,
I'm finally free to fly,
Trying not to remember,
The moments of your horrified eyes.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/17/2002

Author's Comments:
So cold in this place.

In The Wash Of Maybe:

The torrent in my mind carries me,
Here and there the stones block my way,
Carefully and strong swim,
Else the bruises of resistance are painful,
Best is to drift with the current,
Until that moment,
The one where a single powerful stroke,
Makes just the happy turn,
Maybe, just maybe...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/17/2003

Author's Comments:
Possibilities are perceived, but careful navigation
is required.

Where The Candle Once Flamed:

When the flame is small and barely holds the wick,
When the slightest puff of breath threatens it's glow,
It's then the light is most precious,
Look long and hard at the light,
For you will miss it once the red ember goes black,
Not even able to see the smoke stop rising,
Brilliant though it had been,
When it's gone,
That's when you find yourself truly missing the candle.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/14/2003

Author's Comments:
There are a few around me now in their Winter years,
and when the time comes on, I will not fail to remember.
While they are here, I will look on to see what is in the light.

Sea of Dreams:

The Summer breeze flew through the window,
Cicadas were making music,
Moon smiling orange low,
Eyes bound to fall,
Somewhere in the vastness,
Weeping drew my name,
Reaching ever reaching I could only see,
Love sat grounded upon the stones,
Looking this way and that to find me,
I was but fifteen and infinitely possible,
I was the black waters of Love's wept sea,
I was the stones her curves rested upon,
Invisible through mundanity,
I cradled Love and called,
Yet She heard only slapping waves,
Burbling nonsense of the yearning tides,
All my reaching brought empty stone arms,
My eyes were only the sea of lonely tears,
Love's softness rested fully against me untouchable,
It's in the depths of raging frustration,
That the Secrets of Darkness unfold,
In the being of an untapped no longer child,
Yet to be held by aught but the Sea of Dreams.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/10/2003

Author's Comments:
Can you remember the fierce yearning of untried youth?

Gentle Light:

I light the light of hope,
Add my voice to the song of love.

As this candle burns with gentle light,
Grant the gift of love to every heart,
The gift of reason and kindness shall come,
See the gentle light with us.

Gather faith to you,
Stand upon it as bedrock,
As God spoke with all His names,
We live now in faith and love.

As this candle burns with gentle light,
Grant the gift of love to every heart,
The gift of reason and kindness shall come,
See the gentle light with us.

Peace harmony and happiness,
These are the gifts of a loving soul,
Given now to all freely as they reach for them,
The most wonderful thing I feel and see.

As this candle burns with gentle light,
Grant the gift of love to every heart,
The gift of reason and kindness shall come,
See the gentle light with us.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/10/2003

Author's Comments:
The more of us there are pouring out Love on the world
with faith and perseverance, the better the world we live in.
Join in.

The Comm Grid is behaving fairly well tonight, a high speed spell link was getting Grimlen nibbles and going *bumpiddy*, but everything else has just been minor *wogglies*. All of you out there in the Blogverse have a wonderful night and thank you for scrying the *Spell Book*

*POOF*

Possibilities:

In the land of Imagine,
Anything can happen from any direction,
Passion from a single eye catch,
Wandered down a once untrod street,
Money flutters down the street,
As the partiers throw green confetti,
Future meets wish in a chance encounter,
Stumble meets a kiss on a was-lonely corner,
Inspiration in the rumble of an elevated train,
Sparks shower from steel like ideas in the wind,
Hunch-picked a flyer fluttering in the breeze,
Saw a fascination never dreamed of,
Turned the corner and stumbled,
Found gold in happy abundance,
Where the foot did slide.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/09/2003

Author's Comments:
You just never know what life will bring,
but I think if you expect happy it's more likely to be.

It was a strange and awesome spell cast in the Cavern of Candleyears, but the ghosts were appeased by the company, the winds were satisfied to sing a vision whisper, and the spirits of the Earth felt at home for a brief time again. It's such a shame that all the rigidity of mind that has been is taking so long to fade. The Earth spirits need our help now to restore the balance before reality snaps uncontrolled upon us once more. Science Magic is a powerful thing. The beastlieness of reality is that we create it, and the more minds that lock beliefs in one direction, the greater reality's overall movement in that direction. Lack of general knowledge of this principle is currently a drawback to Science Magic. Wherever you can find it in your heart to believe, pray for the Earth to be healed in harmony with Science Magic and not in spite of it. This will in the end bring a gentle merger between spiritual law and scientific law, creating a much more pleasant long term condition in the universe. This is the first precept of the Book of the Tecnomage Philosophy, and it's most important and deeply magical concept. All rituals and rites after this prelude fall within the spirit of this law of universal function. Take for instance the Candle Trance spell:

Candle Trance:

The flame flickers in blue trace to yellow,
Dancing upon the pin of sheer black,
As the wax must softly bleed hot,
Becoming just a puddle,
Subservient to the essence of the flame,
See how Law follows the flame of Will,
Should will burn steadily to left,
Law to the left becomes fluid,
Law to the right becomes rigid,
Flow of action rolls from fluid to rigid,
New shape of Law is the result,
Will is the flame,
Law is the wax,
Intellect and Heart are air and breeze,
Intellect, Will, and finally Heart,
These three must act in concert,
Or Law follows it's set path,
See the light of your need,
It will flow from the well burnt candle.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/09/2003

Author's Comments:
Remember the High Law of Harmonious Purpose.
Discord can bring the candle flame to touch
the flesh of the source of ill Will.

Sighting:

The Whisper Makers whispered slowly,
Droning like the rain,
Or maybe like the wind through carved rocks,
The night painted sky pictures longingly,
Until you reached the cave where they whispered,
Bathed in the light of two thousand three candles,
Yet filled with whispering shadows,
I sat cross-legged on a leather pad,
Staring into candle flames wherever I looked,
Even if I never looked,
I saw because I heard the whispers,
I saw a vision of you,
Late at night curled up covered you were,
Reading a book of magical musings,
Half whispered off to sleep by those words,
As we met in this twilight of the mind,
I heard the whispers of the words you read,
Even as I said them to my journal,
The one you were reading,
And we saw each other reflected in the shadows of ourselves,
Because we met in the twilight between whispers,
And it never mattered if we closed our eyes.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/08/2003

Author's Comments:
On the important meeting of reader and author,
the meeting of minds. There is a magic to it.

Picture Infinity:

There are many infinite things,
Words that dance,
Dreams to inspire,
Questions and answers,
The great topper Love,
The distance to the edge of the universe,
Atoms of hydrogen in same,
But where can you actually see it,
This infinity thing with your own two eyes?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/08/2003

Author's Comments:
I always loved the effect.

Finally! I just managed to *bloggify* the blogplane woggles into place. Please note the Guest Scroll now appears to the right rather than way at the bottom of my *rambles*. It would be really nice if some of you whizzyrds, enchantrisses, and goblens out there decided to put the magic quill to the Guest Scroll As always, thank you for *Blogging* in!.

I am trying to *tweak* the layout of my Blogplane, but the spells are getting *gollywoggled* something fierce. Must be the Mercury Retrograde thingy.

*POOF* *AquarianM tumbles out of the bloggy sky back into the Blogverse*

"Hellooo..." It's been a bit since I could afford the time to travel personally into this sphere of influence, I hope you've enjoyed my various notes and missives. I've been exceptionally busy observing *celebration* spells in the *monottnuss* dimension. It's actually been rather interesting and fun. Anyway, that's all past now. I'm back to spending much of my time away from the Comm Grid working to save Baker Keep. Actually, there have been interesting developements. There is an Enchantriss who has a *nostalgic* connection to Baker Keep that has thrown in with me spell for spell. She has quite a good bit of experience in inducing *greenspells* out of Politicoweevils via mysterious and complicated *GRANT* spells. We may just restore the keep with enough *luck* and *blessing* spells coming our way. I certainly am working hard on the *PRAYER* spells. These are a potent but subtle form of *spiritool* magic granted by the Great Diety Of All Universes. I hope I was and am able to perform them to His satisfaction.

The current status of Baker Keep is that it has been completely overrun by Bank Trulls. That's the bad news. The good news is, the Bank Trulls are likely to *maintain* the Keep in as best condition as possible, because what they really want is to *entice* or *coerce* as many *greenspells* as they can out of any whizzyrd looking to take up residence in the Grand Keep of the Fox River Valley. The keep is rife with Ghostees and *Mnemonic* and *nostalgic* treasures, and is the perfect place to host a Grand Whizzyrd's Ball.

Please feel free to read the *Monottnuss* documentation at the *weBlog*, Save Hotel Baker. And as always, a grand *THANK YOU* spell for visiting my musty old scroll department.

Happy New Year, Whizzyrds, Enchantrisses, and Goblens!

Love Charm:

In the hollow note of silence,
Eyes closed seeing behind the darkness,
A soft red glow that beats,
Crescendos of golden light,
Thoughts of arms wound hugging tight,
Upon the winds of lonely released,
Fly through a hail of uncried missing tears,
Falling upon your far away breast,
When it melts into you,
Do you look up and wistful smile the sky,
As I drift off to our shared dream?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/02/03

Author's Comments:
Meditation for the temporarily separated.

Candlemoss Peak:

They still whisper her name...

The sun set upon the mountain in cold despair,
Lovers entwined in bliss and candleglow,
No ear for the world just a cotton tent away.

The black sun rose unseen,
The stars all went blinding dark,
There was a great howling wind come up.

I heard the shriek when I walked the path,
Spring was dancing there by somber green light,
Bare ground braced the stone circle.

Frost was upon the circle stones,
While Summer was almost nigh,
In the center the unlit candle burns...

Bed of soft blue ice moss surrounding,
Cold glowing wax of frozen memory,
Black eyes seen invisible in the sky.

They'd sung of her in far lands,
But she walked with him out of the world,
The night the blizzard raged.

The mountain banjo mourns in twanged steel,
Lamenting voices drown the wind,
Walk that path to the circle and hear the unheard.

None know how the candle appeared,
Some reflection of a broken heart was whispered,
Perhaps the stones are solidified tears.

There 'pon Candlemoss Peak.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/02/03

Author's Comments:
Purely a fictional lament. I'm not sure where
the inspiration came from, just out there in the void.

Cinnamon And Sorbet Christmas:

Downtown Hi-rise,
Touches of snow,
Cars and cabs and utility trucks,
Quiet night glow of decorations,
Flood the deserted hours with pretty,
Cherry wood paneled lobby comes first,
Deep beautiful red wood throughout,
Soft pink and somber red marble floors,
Brick red marble outside on columns,
Tall, tall arched goldish brass door gleaming glass,
Rays like sun up over the top,
Evergreen garlands and wreaths line windows,
Framed in red wood
Chocolate syrup and cherry juice colors,
Wrapped in Christmas green with white lights,
Twelve foot tree with burgundy and gold ornaments,
White inside the arch out over the door,
Red and green lights shine up there,
Soft frosted light sconces under the eaves,
With their red and green bulbs,
Looking for all the world,
At cherry and mint sorbet bowls,
Step past the florist shop next,
Antique Santas in silver and white,
Glass angels and green wreathes,
Giant wrapping box ornaments,
Dangling from icicle wire,
Intricate involved and spectacle beauty,
To next the stately white marble lobby,
With cinnamon tinsel and gold ornamented trees,
Twin eight footers with presents underneath,
Or the building with chromed in windows,
Red and green shine brilliantly up the glass,
Alternating rows and chrome revolving doors,
Inside two stories tall and open,
White marble and a giant stars and stripes,
There back o' the desk,
Eight trees from tiny to too tall,
With a kid sized Christmas train winding through,
And snowing stuffed puppies and kittens and snowflakes,
All dangling down inside surreal,
Just a short walk from work to the garage,
And just the beginning of the magic just passed.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/01/2003

Author's Comments:
This was my walk to and from the parking ramp
this Christmas season, and it was so well done
and exceptionally pretty I don't ever want to forget.
It was a spectacular year for decorating in 2002, everyone
went all out, and this is in thanks to everyone who
worked to make Christmas so beautiful this year.
The Sears tower has a three story tree in their
all glass entry foyer with thousands of twinkling white
lights that is absolutely brilliant in simple silver
gauze garland wrap. Just wow.

*Afterglow*:

From Wigwam & Shaker's Spell Dictionary:

1. The residual glow one finds after,
a. A keen-witted whizzyrds battle.
b. A really good wigwam shake.
c. A comet passes by.
d. A supernova explodes.
e. Being snowed in in the frozen North for three days.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/30/2002

Author's Comments:
Complete instructions for casting most of these
*afterglow* spells can be found all over the
spellweb. Item "c" is classified "restricted" under
item squaggledy b-34a by the Grand Patoobah
Whizzyrds Council as a "hazard to living planets
should an idiot or evil Blech Mejishun cast it." Item
d. is classified "Noway Hosay" by the Grand
Patoobah Whizzyrds Council. See Spellreg Guide
"Multi-planetary Destruction Hazard" index A for
"Astronomically Dangerous".

New Year Haiku:

Time shines bright coming,
Brilliant and poignant while here,
Glows soft once past us.

Aquarianm

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/30/2002

All Good News Rag:

See No Evil, Hear No evil, Speak No Evil,
Remembered from long gone away days,
I saw this in the vision of clowning furry monkeys,
Like some antique joke or pun,
Yet whenever I click on today's news,
Or get newsprint ink upon fingers,
Any more, any more,
The joke is no longer funny,
So full of fear I fear,
Perhaps some day I shall find the small print,
A ray of sunshine and hope,
Some lonely editor in a worn down building,
Who remembers the pun as wisdom,
Where they print the "All Good News Rag".

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/30/2002

Author's Comments:
Just wishing I could find the "good news" channel.
Current media is missing the balance.

Christmas Eve Miracle:

All week wishing,
Praying and hoping all along,
My little boy and the little boy in me,
Wonder and will it,
Be white on Christmas day?

The ground was bare brown grass,
The sky was quite clear,
December 23rd and the weathermen said no,
All will be quite chilly and clear,
But upon opening the blinds on Christmas Eve,
There were flakes all flying by the street lights,
The blue iced pond and grass covered in white,
The grass was disappearing,
To work was a peaceful slow drive,
It must be a minor miracle,
God made the weathermen out a lie,
I'm here at work on Christmas Eve,
And what we'd been hoping for is coming down outside,
All we had to do was pray,
And of course, believe!

Merry Christmas!!!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/24/2002

Author's Comments:
This is no "doctored" story. There was no snow yesterday
at all around Chicago, and the weather forecasts all said cold and
clear. Yet when I looked out tonight...it's beautiful. *S*

Angel RX:

I hear the angel,
Whispering inside my head,
Something softly Baby,
What she said,
Oh what she said...

I see the glory hallowed,
Haunting a lonely sky,
Angels standing on the clouds,
A deluge of angel voices cry,
My eyes were ghosted over by you tearful blind...

I hear the angel,
Whispering inside my head,
Something softly Baby,
What she said,
Oh what she said...

Take your medicine real slow,
You sugar as sweet as sweet,
Touch the healing hand,
Up on your feet,
Tonight they're dancing in the street...

I hear the angel,
Whispering inside my head,
Something softly Baby,
What she said,
Oh what she said...

Throw your hands up and pray,
Ripples on the pond where you cry,
Reflect the clashing sounds of good-bye,
But I pulled you back again,
When she told me touch the sky...

I hear the angel,
Whispering inside my head,
Something softly Baby,
What she said,
Oh what she said...

Just walk in love,
Just walk in love,
What falls from your eyes,
I'll kiss off you cheeks in our sweet time,
Just look up tonight...

I hear the angel,
Whispering inside my head,
Something softly Baby,
What she said,
Oh what she said...

Ave, ave, just look up,
Just walk in love,
Pour your heart upon the waters,
Ave, ave just look up tonight,
Just...walk....in...love....

I hear the angel,
Whispering inside my head,
Something softly Baby,
What she said,
Oh what she said...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/20/2002

Author's Comments:
I heard this like a song, but I couldn't sing it.
I wanted to breath it to life, but I couldn't wing it.
Where, oh where's a diva when you're in need?

Christmas Audio Spells:

Calling All Snowflakes MP3 - 525kb

Snow Down MP3 - 932kb

The Electric Elf MP3 - 1.9mb

Whissler's Paradise MP3 - 3.9mb

Merry Christmas, and thank you for listening!

Winterneed:

My eyes are blue with wonder,
Tresses of white place in my dreams,
I see and hear silent white in the night,
Crystal is the vision of ice as it grows,
The might of fractal chill beauty,
Begun on a simple window pane,
The clouds soft cover soon to bear,
The soft soft haze of falling white bless this land,
Summer needs your tears dear Winter,
The season begs you appear,
We've laid out lights and shown rosy cheeks,
There is a morning coming,
Made to be decked in your colors,
Come to us dear Winter in our time of rest,
Blanket the Earth in the pure white that heals,
Let the parks and ponds and streams be adorned,
Deck the world in opulent translucent blue,
In platinum and silver and crystalline hues,
Illuminate our breath within the sky,
For without your twinkling glinting ice,
We languish in a dry brown barren missing you,
Winter, Winter, bring your snowflake minions nigh,
Your archangel Jack Frost touch the sky,
Breath soft white and hush our hurried time,
In our hours of Winterneed.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/189/2002

Author's Comments:
I've waited patiently for her season to begin,
Next week is Christmas, find the child in you
and welcome the snow to your grounds,
For she brings the gift of water and life to
pave the path to Spring and growth.

Calling All Snowflakes:

Calling all Snowflakes,
Cloud City please come in,
Send out the Snow Angels,
Jack Frost, where ya been,
Christmas is a comin',
We need a world of white,
We're missing Lady Winter,
Wish her here by first Christmas light,
Calling all Snowflakes,
Please come on down,
Before Santa and the children,
All wear a frown,
Whoosh and swirl and blow,
Come on out and snow, snow, snow!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/13/2001


Author's Comments:
Wishin' for snow in time for Christmas.
This feels weird to be so warm.

Shadow Magic:

How did the Dragon touch me,
Right where my silhouette broaches the Earth,
At the very moment the full Moon silvered the Solstice Star?

Can you see my darkness where no creature casts shade?

There was only blowing snow to go by,
Yet I no longer can experience cold,
Banished outside time.

Eons pass as the magic fades, I am the last witness.

In the time before minds met,
Before words had solidified existence,
I was met with the Draconian Shadow Curse.

I live by pale moonlight and bright stars.

I've watched the modern children,
With their miraculous lights and cold steel toys,
At my closest season to life they are jubilant.

Existing as a shadow all the year long.

Each round of Earth to Sun,
I can only touch this existence on one cold lonely night,
So on that night's inception I wept a tear.

Two thousand years ago and more.

I fell to the ground by torch light,
And at the edge of reality I saw the embodiment of love,
The King who would call miracles to order.

Condemned to eternity as a figment I was willing nevertheless.

As I gave my ancient soul to his keeping,
The infant Ruler of Love on Earth,
He saw me and chanced to smile his first smile.

Have you ever been cast to the heavens trailing tears of joy?

He gave me a gift incredibly precious,
For though I am shadow as the Sun is shining,
At night I am become one of his shining Christmas stars.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/18/2002

Author's Comments:
I imagined a magical being cursed to exist only
as a shadow from the age of magic, one who
surrendered to the Prince of Peace and was granted
mercy in Heaven.

Slow Song:

My eyes were on fire all night...

I saw you across the room,
Couldn't help but stare,
What happens under my skin can't be controlled,
My feet are moving all on their own,
Left me standing in front of you,
With a heart in the throat question stuck there,
As the slow beat comes on,
The guitar wails and moans sweet,
Will you?

Take my hand my eyes are melting,
I saw the flames reflected in your eyes,
The lights are dancing but my eyes are closed,
Lost in pulling you close,
Voice utters without my consent,
Without even knowing,
Just under the threshold of felt,
I can feel your heart my heart hammer,
Not an inch of you without an inch of me,
Now I know the epitome of a soft curve,
As I'm drowning in your scent.

Did the music stop before or after,
Your electricity eyes,
Welded me to your soft hot lips?

Didn't the world swirl,
As you walked tonight,
Hand in mine out the door,
With that little finger stroke,
That told me hard let's go?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/18/2002

Author's Comments:
Reminiscence upon reflection of the words
I've found in here this morning.

Chillshades:

The scope of the sky is false,
The cues of sunlight say Winter at this slant,
The solstice just days off in the wings,
But the sunshine and temperature are out to lie,
Put on those cheap sunglasses Baby,
To keep the sun from your eyes,
But in this now hot orange world,
Remember Winter,
She comes back in the dark of the night,
So all that snow is just pending,
Let's tuck each other in,
And be each others' candle light.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/17/2002

Author's Comments:
Just a note from this past weekend.

Hope everyone out there is enjoying the season.

*POOF*

I've been out of this corner of the blogverse trying to salvage a magical place in the multiverse known as Hotel Baker - so if you see a bit of lack of presence, please feel free to wander about the spells that have gone before, and rest assured, the whizzyrd will return in force in the near future! Meanwhile, I need to collect a certain spell for use in another plane...

*POOF*

It seems the *hourglass* has turned many times since I've been able to do much more than post a brief missive in here. I will try to do better, but no *binding oaths*. There is a pleasant *holiday* feel all about the blogverse, it seems all is awaiting the white wash of the Snow Goddess' Tears. Perhaps the Elves and Spirits council will set that tone soon.

There has been a disturbance in the *balance* of late, I'm in the process of casting *scrying* spells all around the crystal screens to try to find a way to help. This one I fear will require far more *greenspells* than I alone possess. Perhaps I will find other whizzyrds willing to assist in a collective casting. You see, there is a grand keep known as the *Hotel Baker* that is made of lovely brown stone, and has a magic *Rainbow Room* for all the Whizzyrds Balls and fabulous feasts, as well as extremely nice guest quarters.The place is rife with *history* and even is home to a couple of wayward spirits of the *Ghostly* clan. It seems the modern day whizzyrds that held the *title* to the place were practicing *Blech Mejik* by trying to create a *BLECH HOLE* spell to suck in *greenspells* against the laws of *nature*. They were caught in a *scrying* by the Whizzyrds Council Federale and they lost title. So the grand old keep has been *! SHUDDER !* shuttered. Only the *Ghost* people are there now. This is extremely sad. You can view details by going to the *Monotnuss* crystal screen at Hotel Baker

Pin Dancer:

Spin and spin,
Centrifugal force,
Is that what keeps you up?

Turn this way and that,
Seeing every fire under the Sun and Moon,
But where are all the fire hoses?

Spread thin like the last of the jam,
I wonder if I'm orange marmalade on ham,
Or even how much more the body can stand?

Don't know all the right steps,
But you'd best wear real thick hard soled shoes,
When you're doin' the Dervish atop the point of a pin.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/13/2002

Author's Comments:
My physical universe has a hard time keeping up
with my mind and spirit.

Mmmm...the light is shining above, the night life has slipped away, it's time to cast a *pillow* spell and drift off to dream visions in soft red light...

*POOF*

How To Move (Me):

Baby feel another way to move when you're around,
Wound up in the sound of your fire,
Have you ever lost your mind at the slightest sign,
Fill my eyes with desire,
See you sway like the wind at play,
Touch me in the music,
Touch me in the heart,
Take me by storm where the dreams all start,
Sound of your voice going over my edge,
All I need to lose my head,
Oh, baby you're my wild child,
Reason's been filed away,
Sway in my eyes like the fire inside,
Body electric under my hands,
Shocked with your allure,
Under your spell,
I have to move, can't you tell?
It's a very fine grind every time,
Baby feel another way to move when you're around,
Wound up in the sound of your fire,
Have you ever lost your mind at the slightest sign,
Fill my eyes with desire,
See you sway like the wind at play,
Blow me away.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/09/2002

Author's Comments
I still have that beat stuck in my head.

I remember a crystal screen vision once that spoke about making *music* magic, some of the prettiest magic of all. It said you needed *words* and *music* blended together to craft the art. Somehow, someday, I need to find a *music* whizzyrd to work with my words.

Fire Of The Flower:

Orchids in bloom,
Filled with songs of wind and abandon,
See the blush of their heat,
Shimmer your vision,
Sounds of their song drive you wild,
Beauty wraiths in glory,
Upon their self made Orchid Throne,
Voices burning into your depths,
Youth and fire and desire,
Every scent and sight and sound,
Plays you upon the field,
Where the flowers dance you to paradise,
Magic you can't touch,
Can you hear the dream,
Blooming to the beat,
In a Fireflower blush,
Hear the Wild Orchids,
Just,
Oh, just hush,
And listen,
With your eyes,
With your ears,
The Orchids,
Sway,
That way,
Hush,
Blush...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/09/2002

Author's Comments:
Based on the Gal Band "Wild Orchid" and
the glam and Rapsong sound they have goin' on.
Wild Orchid

I had an interesting look at a screen belonging to a coven of lady bards that call themselves Wild Orchid just a bit ago, it seems the third member of the coven has left and they are only two now. So sad, they did a Christmas vision last year that was absolutely stunning in my opinion. At some point I'm going to ckeck further into their *vibrations* on crystal disc and see how their non-holiday sound is.

I don't know what made that one appear in the old crystal screen just now, but *mnemonic* visions appear just when they've a fate to, so there it is.

I'd say it's time for a good old war story.

There once was an old whizzryd named Rudini. (He was really, really old. Ancient. Antique.) Generally, he was full of *happy* spells, but as young whizzyrds, one of our Circle decided to buzz him with a taunting *chant* spell. It was particularly unpleasant to that generation, and old Rudini sent a *flying rake* spell on us, the rake chasing us down the sidewalk and scattering the circle. Still, the nervy aprentiwhizzyrd kept up his taunt spell until both he and old Rudini were all tuckered out. (Somehow, I don't think it's very pleasant to have a magic bullhorn follow you around chanting "Come on, Rudini, get some buttini, I done had me some!" for hours on end, either.) The sad part was, poor ol' Rudini was never very nice to apprentimages after that day. He had been somewhat of a friend of my Grandfather's, so I wasn't too thrilled with the whole thing, but it WAS pretty funny at first. Personally, I think the young Stinkerspell that set up the *chant* was lucky old Rudini didn't fry him and have his brains on the cauldron, but for some reason he chose not to.

Dream In Red Velvet:

I had fallen through the fog of sleep,
Landed on a gentle touch calling eylids open,
The Angel Of Fire stands in my eyes,
Where the winds are hot and steam blasts free,
There is a red sky in all directions,
Even up and down,
Mirrors whirl slowly at our edges,
Eye corner glances amid red velvet flickering,
As slowly silk and cotton fall free to disappear,
My eyes are pulled into the fire...

Skin under gliding fingertips,
Cupped hands overflowing with soft warm delight,
The wet taste of fire burns sweet on the tongue,
Just the right touch ignites the straining fuse,
Eyes filled with uncontrollable magic vision,
Scenes burn into us igniting our cores,
Touching and incredibly touched,
Enspelled to a rhythmic electric connection,
Touch bombs we've become,
Giving voices helplessly to the explosion.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/08/2002

Author's Comments:
Interesting wave we're all riding. I wrote this before
I read a single poem, but it seems there's some spice out
there in the undermind of late.

Whissler's Paradise:

Snow flakes fall in a small town,
Early on on a mid-December eve,
An old man meanders slowly through the snow,
For once in his many years,
He has a place to go.

Street lights only add to the Christmas light cheer.

He'd sipped from the bottle,
The one in the pocket of his tatty black overcoat,
Just enough to get a warm glow in his center,
He walked down the decorated sidewalks,
Past places running down slowly that he'd known for years.

Cracked sidewalks and rust, busted shingles and faded paint.

The snow covered any litter,
Falling on an eyelash or cheek in cold awakening,
He walked slowly with purpose,
Unlike the street people with no place to get warm,
He had a small apartment filled with memories.

Lonely winter years lair.

Soon the sign his rheumy old eyes sought was ahead,
Faded and flaking colors held hints of past glory,
"Majestic" in bold lettering a masquerade of days gone by,
There was something special playing,
It had been so many years.

Glory days will pass you by.

As he drew near Christmas music played,
Kind and gentle and sweet like he remembered it,
Although there were few who would know these songs,
As long ago as it had been since there had been charts,
Let alone they'd been atop such a thing.

All those notes now played in Heaven.

He stood under the lights he so long had remembered,
And the faded colorful marquis read something,
Something he'd thought dead long ago,
In these days of holograms and space colonies,
"It's a Wonderful Life" in grand, so grand bold.

Visitations were now due.

A smile and a tear escaped his face in the same moment,
And his eyes closed as he saw Her there,
Some butter-haired pixie girl he once knew,
He remembered plucked daisies and a shiny Schwinn,
Blue jeans and puff coats and incessant youth.

When love was still alive and hugging.

His lips tingled with memories of a long-gone high school kiss,
And she faded into his longing missing lonely heart,
And he opened his eyes and walked up to the booth,
A novelty in his hand many hadn't seen in years,
Crisp green bills of paper, real paper.

No picochip implant readers here.

The child at heart wearing grey pigtails in the box office,
Took his bills and popped another faded novelty,
Bubble gum pink as she smiled with her red and green bows,
She handed him real paper tickets,
And he smiled shaking as he stepped inside.

Oh, the smell of popcorn butter!

They say scent is the last to go,
That was his thought as he looked at chrome and glass,
Waiting in the concession line,
Imagine a concession line after so much time,
Movie posters brought so many memories to flooding front.

Walking toward the usher, real live usher!

He walked in and sat down amongst a sea,
A sea of white and grey hair and smiling tears,
And the lights dimmed away softly,
The old silver screen flickered to glowing life,
The notes and credits rolled in black and white flickers.

Oh, God, Jimmy looks so young!

They found him there with smiling still eyes,
The half eaten popcorn in his cold hand,
A salty tear drying on his cheek,
The coke was still full of ice in the cup holder,
No longer lonely or old Mr. Whissler.

He's now the ghost of Christmas past.

I hear Christmas bells ringing, I swear, somewhere.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

(C) 12/15/2001

Author's Comments:
I've seen it happen to generations before,
in time we all must go here, the things we
love fade from the world slowly drawing
us off into the sparkling night.

The Electric Elf:

'Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the house,
The parents were scrambling,
Because the twinkle lights were out!

'Twas the night before Christmas and no one slept a wink,
Where are those spare Christmas bulbs,
Oh please help me think,
Before I call a Christmas shrink!

'Twas the night before Christmas and I keeled over in bed,
As my wife and I looked at the clock in dread,
I set the alarm for six when the clock said four thirty,
So don't blame Mrs. Claus if Santa is surly!

The bells just rang without moving the sleigh,
Oh, my goodness, it's Christmas Day!

I hopped in my suit and a candle I lit,
I ran down the stairs and I stared like a twit,
For just at the tree was an incredible sight,
There was a Neon Elf with a spare Christmas light!

Yes, the stockings were twinkling,
The tree was ablaze with blinking,
The windows were glowing,
Outside it was even now snowing!

I shook and I sputtered,
I think I must have quite stuttered,
As I thanked him and all his ilk,
I even handed over Santa's left over cookies and milk!

Well, he winked,
I swear his eyes blinked,
And quicker than you could say Blitzen,
Up the chimney that Electric Elf was splittin',
A whoosh I heard and I saw a cloud of soot,
The last thing to go was a lighted Kid Nike foot!

Then I heard giggles from the top of the stairs,
I hurried and emptied my bag of merchants' wares,
The tinsel tree was glowing just bright as could be,
Lit by the now fixed cloured light rotisserie,
And down the stairs came my little kids,
When they saw all the lights they quite flipped their lids!

Soon Mrs. Santa arrived and all was Christmas glee,
As little Whosits tore paper up under the tree,
And that's when I thanked my lucky stars,
Mrs. Santa's from Venus,
But that Electric Elf left toy light up cars!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/16/2001

Author's Comments:
I know it's a bit early, but the Muse' gifts
are given when She's ready, so here we are.
(PS: The spell checker wanted to replace Blitzen - with "blitzed"!) *LOL*

Whissler's Paradise:

Snow flakes fall in a small town,
Early on on a mid-December eve,
An old man meanders slowly through the snow,
For once in his many years,
He has a place to go.

Street lights only add to the Christmas light cheer.

He'd sipped from the bottle,
The one in the pocket of his tatty black overcoat,
Just enough to get a warm glow in his center,
He walked down the decorated sidewalks,
Past places running down slowly that he'd known for years.

Cracked sidewalks and rust, busted shingles and faded paint.

The snow covered any litter,
Falling on an eyelash or cheek in cold awakening,
He walked slowly with purpose,
Unlike the street people with no place to get warm,
He had a small apartment filled with memories.

Lonely winter years lair.

Soon the sign his rheumy old eyes sought was ahead,
Faded and flaking colors held hints of past glory,
"Majestic" in bold lettering a masquerade of days gone by,
There was something special playing,
It had been so many years.

Glory days will pass you by.

As he drew near Christmas music played,
Kind and gentle and sweet like he remembered it,
Although there were few who would know these songs,
As long ago as it had been since there had been charts,
Let alone they'd been atop such a thing.

All those notes now played in Heaven.

He stood under the lights he so long had remembered,
And the faded colorful marquis read something,
Something he'd thought dead long ago,
In these days of holograms and space colonies,
"It's a Wonderful Life" in grand, so grand bold.

Visitations were now due.

A smile and a tear escaped his face in the same moment,
And his eyes closed as he saw Her there,
Some butter-haired pixie girl he once knew,
He remembered plucked daisies and a shiny Schwinn,
Blue jeans and puff coats and incessant youth.

When love was still alive and hugging.

His lips tingled with memories of a long-gone high school kiss,
And she faded into his longing missing lonely heart,
And he opened his eyes and walked up to the booth,
A novelty in his hand many hadn't seen in years,
Crisp green bills of paper, real paper.

No picochip implant readers here.

The child at heart wearing grey pigtails in the box office,
Took his bills and popped another faded novelty,
Bubble gum pink as she smiled with her red and green bows,
She handed him real paper tickets,
And he smiled shaking as he stepped inside.

Oh, the smell of popcorn butter!

They say scent is the last to go,
That was his thought as he looked at chrome and glass,
Waiting in the concession line,
Imagine a concession line after so much time,
Movie posters brought so many memories to flooding front.

Walking toward the usher, real live usher!

He walked in and sat down amongst a sea,
A sea of white and grey hair and smiling tears,
And the lights dimmed away softly,
The old silver screen flickered to glowing life,
The notes and credits rolled in black and white flickers.

Oh, God, Jimmy looks so young!

They found him there with smiling still eyes,
The half eaten popcorn in his cold hand,
A salty tear drying on his cheek,
The coke was still full of ice in the cup holder,
No longer lonely or old Mr. Whissler.

He's now the ghost of Christmas past.

I hear Christmas bells ringing, I swear, somewhere.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/15/2001

Author's Comments:
I've seen it happen to generations before,
in time we all must go here, the things we
love fade from the world slowly drawing
us off into the sparkling night.

Off to the *pillow* spell, I've cast a zillion telecomm spells last night, the gremlins can play with the other whizzyrds. Peace and thank you all for visiting, but even *coffein* spells are no longer working.

*POOF*

The Glow:

I wander the place with the eyes of a Christmas spirit,
Seeing magic at every turn,
The angel Grace flies in the stairwell,
Carrying her gift of a staff of wheat in one hand,
And a soft yellow light of warmth in the other,
The glass tree on the foyer table small and shining hot lights,
The Blue Angel rests in the corner under her star,
She that graced my childhood dreams,
Silverfrost the Snowman,
Dances on the dining room table,
Amidst his cotton puff drifts,
Outside two trees filled to brimming with happy lights,
Shedding a soft fifties Christmas glow,
And the dancing Lighted Snowmen,
All hurrah in a line 'round the snowed in garden,
The fixtures on the porches bright red and green,
And out front the white lit wreath over the garage light,
All down the street the magic carries on,
As neighbors in turn put out Christmas lights,
All of us remember with big child wide eyes,
Something wonderful and magical,
The Christmas Glow...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/03/2002

Author's Comments:
People are really going all out for Christmas this year.
I decorated yesterday outside, my wife did inside.
It looks wonderful and getting better daily.

Christmas Prayer:

I look into the Christmas candle and I see,
A flickering flame of hope for you and me,
Clasp your hands and raise your eyes,
Praise the Lord up in the skies,
Beg him way down on your knees,
No more anger if He'd please,
He sent messengers to speak of Love,
Grant the hope of a peaceful dove,
So let each of us Christmas Eve pray,
That the light of peace and love shall guide the way,
That fear and anger leave every heart,
And then the wonders will begin to start.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/03/2002

Author's Comments:
A sincere wish that we all make the personal choice
to abandon the practice of fear.

The hour is late and dark, and I'm visiting with visions of spirits. I see a star up in the sky so bright, that were I to cast magic far enough it just might reach, but the night is too cold to wander that far. Standing feet down in the castle, I can feel the freezing wind blast down my collar, the snow picked up off the ground by an angry Zephyr, and whizzed onto my cheeks and up my nostrils, which stick together by Winter's magic. The waters have grown hard translucent blue, the world turned to white, and even though the sky is open, it's frigid by starlight. When I look up to Jupiter I see the celestial hall of kings, the Palace of Archetypes. The Spirit of Music lives there, though we called him by his lesser name when he was here in the 1950's and made himself known. The Spirit of Wisdom that has visited under many guises, bringing new theories and understandings in each era. The Spirit of Dreams who moves my hand and so many others following the Path of the Pen. The Spirit of Love makes her home in another place closer to the Rosy Dawn. The Spirit of Strength lives there, though he's come often to crack a bat or throw a ball. These are his simpler, lesser spells, he has stood strong in places we're priveledged not to know. The Spirit of Fear has gone furthest from the warmth, hiding in amongst the snow heaps and cold reaches far from sight of Man, yet whispering errors into the undermind. His only dominion is through those who listen in naivete. These and many other spirits wander the halls of the soul, facets of the Godforce that we are able to somewhat comprehend. Take great care in hearing them, for the best of them is Love, she who guards the secrets of warmth. When she holds you to her bosom and opens the thighs of her heat, the Spirit of Passion can be then reborn, yet only her arms can cradle the Spirit of Understanding.

Law Of The Decorati:

Who are these reverse Christmas bandits,
That steal trees and lights into our life,
Somewhere in the frozen night?

Close your eyes and lights appear,
Maybe there or over here,
Try it yourself and you'll find,
The Law of the Decorati...

*At least three bulbs will burn out,
The tree is never even there's no doubt,
The fuses soon will blow,
Faster than blizzard snow,
All the spares in the world matter not,
When one socket gets too hot,
The snow will fall before you set foot out the door,
And you'll be out there six times more.*

When you see those beautiful Christmas lights,
Remember the Decorati and their plight,
Stealing away in the freezing night,
Facing chilblains and frost bite,
To give pleasure to your child sight.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12./03/2002

Author's Comments:
Just some fun with the Christmas decorating. Wish I could
get a hand from that Electric Elf...

Little Angel Walk The Sun:

Without dreams it's just too cold,
Always need your hand to hold,
Touch together light of gold,
In the sea of Heaven above,
Under a star of love.

Little Angel, walk the Sun,
Leave behind ice and cold,
When it's my love you hold,
Little Angel, walk the Sun.

See your toes dance across the sand,
Vision of footsteps across the land,
Washed out by the waves without your hand,
You are my promised land,
Heaven right where you stand.

Little Angel, walk the Sun,
Leave behind ice and cold,
When it's my love you hold,
Little Angel, walk the Sun.

I see a star in the sky,
Feel the fire way up high,
Lost in you too far to be shy,
Forgot to wonder why,
All I know is I'm alive.

Little Angel, walk the Sun,
Leave behind ice and cold,
When it's my love you hold,
Little Angel, walk the Sun.

Like a fiery star streaked across the night,
Of my dreams and inner sight,
You are the light,
In the sea of Heaven above,
Under a star of love.

Little Angel, walk the Sun,
Leave behind ice and cold,
When it's my love you hold,
Little Angel, walk the Sun.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/03/2002

Author's Comments:
The Muse is back, singing to me.

Seems like the Snow Goddess sure has a grip on the weather around here. The nice part is, it's pretty when she's in the mood to decorate. It's coming down out there like pixie dust in a hurricane.

Fade Of The Fall:

Look out the windows,
All the world is falling white,
Across the pond and into the distance,
Everything fades from hushed sight,
The fire flickers here inside warm,
Grey is the ruler,
Ice on the pond, sky, everything,
Fading to grey like the mood,
In this music contentment rested lies,
Contemplating shower and get out,
Soon I'll be hanging christmas lights,
Some snow storm laden Decorati,
As breath becomes visible,
And cold stings me to the bones,
Every inhalation speaks of Winter,
Here in the quiet life at home,
We'll cuddle tonight and just look,
And maybe I'll sing like Elvis,
I guess we all miss that guy,
They say to him Christmas was King,
At least of holidays,
Right now it's just the view falling out the window,
The closed in comfort,
Of the faded snow fall sky,
Is it just me,
Or is the whole world closer,
Hidden in the fade of the fall?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/02/2002

Author's Comments:
Just the way it feels right now, a relaxed day,
reminiscing of the Thanksgiving special we taped while
we were away and watched last night, and the calm rested feel
of today as the snow falls outside.

In The Frozen Howling Night:

The truck moves slowly,
Jostled by high winds,
The white snow blows sideways,
Furiously flying past the windshield,
All about is dark and treacherously slippery,
With fools racing on the left,
Trying to sight the twin tracks,
Yawning furiously after midnight,
Gulping coffee in desperation,
As your yawning watering eyes seek sense,
Out of a world of red tail lights,
Dancing in and out of flying white,
The radio a stuttering static companion,
Somewhere in the frozen night,
Stop by the blue sign turning right,
Step out and the blast hits your face,
Snowflies race into your eyes,
Leaving wet drops on exposed skin,
All to the delight of rushing frozen wind,
You strain leaning towards the lighted doors,
Rest stop haven of tooth jangling relief,
And as you batten the snaps and buttons,
Soon to do battle with the freezing dark once more,
Still you know a bit of wonder,
Somehow there is beauty in the furious white,
As you struggle off crunching snow under your feet,
Charging ahead once more to the campaign,
With sleep and caffeine and driving,
On a winter storm lake effect night.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/01/2002

Author's Comments:
We arrived back home from my Brother's place at
two in the morning this morning, having battled through
a powerful lake effect blizzard in Southwestern Michigan,
Fighting snow and sleep and traffic valiantly, we had
prevailed.


Some excellent sites to see snow:

Mount Washington

Buffalo

Eagle

Big Bear

Washington

The Mount Washington site is spectacular!

I ran into this around Paw Paw, Michigan, here is today's forcast for Paw Paw:

Weather Underground Forecast - Paw Paw, MI