Read the rest of this entry »‘Where are you going, Master?’ cried Sam, though at last he understood what was happening.
‘To the Havens, Sam,’ said Frodo.
‘And I can’t come.’
‘No, Sam. Not yet, anyway, not further than the Havens ….’
….
… and so they rode down at last to Mithlond, to the Grey Havens in the long Firth of Lune ….
J. R. R. Tolkien, The Return of the King (The Lord of the Rings, Part 3)
I am that woman who would wait for dawn,
Nor slept while the slow moon rode into sight;
Who, fighting weariness, gazed full upon
The starry circle drawn around the night.
I saw the Milky Way fade like a cloud,
And, drowsy-lidded, watched the distance grow
Between me and the Pleiades, nor bowed
To heavy hands of sleep upon my brow.
Then, when night grew more stilly palpitate
Listening for the faint birth-cry of morn,
And the cock crew, I, at the very gate,
Fell into cloddish slumber, all out-worn.
Even as I slept, soft as a look or sigh,
The Dawn with Love beside her passed me by.
=====
Sara Bard Field, “Could You Not Watch With Me One Little Hour.” Poetry, vol. 25, no. 4, 1925, p. 191.
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I’m wearing:
Total ARC: 43,900
Photographed at The Four Seasons (Orinoco Valley region)
(Author’s note: since I didn’t have access to some 50 Residents in the proper skin and costumes, I’m asking you to suspend disbelief on my photos, and supplement things with your own imagination. Either road, here’s a short Christmas story from the 48th Century, and my character Ariel Sherman. HG)
Ariel glanced around her at the four dozen-plus gold and silver people surrounding her. As usual, The Land of Fantasy had put on a phenomenal production of its current revue show, and everyone looked satisfied with things, no matter the changes in the script for the evening. Of course, for cyborg memories, “changes in the script” were rather small beer. It was the human pride in their craft that shone here, pride in performing in a once-a-year show to the satisfaction of both themselves and a demanding audience.
There was still a final act to go before they rang down the curtain for the next four weeks, for the show’s annual break. This would not be the usual finale, though, with its famous nudity; not on this night. For this was Day 357 on the Limlight Standard Calendar. There were children in the audience tonight, and the entire performance was much more family-oriented. Especially for tonight’s finale, the one element of this special show which had not changed from year to year. To Ariel’s demanding eye, everyone looked happy, prepared, and confident. She nodded happily back to them, said, “Alright, people; let’s do it,” and got back words and signs of agreement. “Go, Dalton,” she whispered to her organic stage manager, who grinned back, tapped at his tablet, and gave the needed orders. Recorded music began playing; the “small” curtain in front of Ariel opened thirty seconds later, and Lady Ariel Sherman entered at stage center, sweeping through the curtains in a massive ball gown of white satin.
She dropped into a stage-depth curtsey as the audience cheered and applauded and the rest of the cast and company entered behind her. Each of the feature acts took their own bows, then arranged themselves behind their star artiste. The audience quieted at last, and Ariel said into the amplification field, “Thank you all so much for coming tonight to The Land of Fantasy! It’s always our joy and pleasure to perform for you, but doubly so on special nights, such as this.”
Read the rest of this entry »I came in world the other night, and discovered a notecard waiting for me … and got quite surprised when I read it. I’d been invited to give my profile for a magazine that’ll be coming out in a little time (I don’t know when at the moment). They said they could send a photographer out to shoot me; but my schedule is hectic at the moment, to say the least. So I decided to take the other option, and shoot myself according to their specs. (Be kind … always follow the instructions.)
Read the rest of this entry »She had forgotten how the August night
Was level as a lake beneath the moon,
In which she swam a little, losing sight
Of shore; and how the boy, who was at noon
Simple enough, not different from the rest,
Wore now a pleasant mystery as he went,
Which seemed to her an honest enough test
Whether she loved him, and she was content.
Morgan Vanderzwaan is brand new to Second Life, unlike “Old Hands” like me, or even Jem, who’s been in a few years now. (And I can never get her to write a rezz-day piece, hint hint!) She’s gradually starting to build a wardrobe that goes along with her style, which is a little edgier than ours at times, I’ve noticed. But she still goes for taste and elegance for the most part. (I think she’s younger than us, but we haven’t traded personal information like that yet.)
Read the rest of this entry »
You can’t get much redder than this ensemble from Finesmith. Yula is getting more and more into the couture side of fashion, and this outfit, complete with shoes, “gorget” and SLink nail appliers, comes in several colors; but Keiko finds red about as perfect a color as anything.
Oh, the lady in red, the fellahs are crazy for the lady in red
She’s a bit gaudy, but lawdy, what a personality
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My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Sister Gatling Gun of Love and Mercy.
My Johari window -- visit and offer your ideas on my personality
