Needle In A Haystack

I found the needle Dad!
The mordant mores tried to stick it in my eye.
I morphed into a eagle, a bear, a matrix butterfly,
And flew through the portal of time.
Loves consequence of what you gave to me,
My twice blessed ticket a golden key.
Consequence, recompense in the lock of descent distinction.
Pietistic elite! She rans on defeat.
Where do all the whiggish go when they run?
To Hell with the digital funny money.
Consequence, recompence, this land of the mighty and brave,
Stave off the foreign master's despot desolation.
Remember yellow waves of past desperation?
History is a tall tale,
Hit-and-run a market swindle game.
I found the needle Dad,
And the thread of truth in so many lies.
The ticket paid with sweat, blood, and tears.
And me with no stack of my own.
Such is Rome and the pietistic elite.
She's still the apple of my eye.

Saving For The Future, Mountain Grown

Above the average bare who wear the texture of strength and fortitude worn with a handmade silver fibula fasten at the shoulder with love.

The Fair Stratagem

Eureka is a captivating little frontier town tucked away between two mountains passes. A place where unsuspecting.... strangers come to get away from the poison gasses of city life among other reasons. If they linger to long, they may discover the haunting truth about the quantal place, the native people, and what lurks within the many abandoned mines.
The frightened townsfolk mass together, safety in numbers is their joie de vivre rule. Power lines feed electric wattage to hungry power consumers, never the less, calamities dispassion lays claim to giving the devil his due. And a river of tears flows to the sea in the name of half-hearted poverty.

The Portal Crossing

Siskiyou sat very still, starring at his salad plate, in deep thought, private hell... the look of a honorable man faced with an unsolvable dilemma. The salad dressing had a delicate magical flavor. He had to admit, Bobby Twofeathers was an exceptional apprentice chief. The new Commandor of the Western Republic Free Space Sector had not tasted such food in months. The smell of roast chicken continued to drift from the kitchen. Sweet floating ribbons of caramelized potatoes, carrots, turnips mingled, weaving their way from his nose to torture his mind and his empty growling belly.

The lights flickered several times in rapped succession, dimming ever so slowly until darkness folded like the sealing of a letter in an envelope.

"Not to worry." said Victor cheerfuly.

"How romantic!" Gertrude cooed. Shay Patrick leaned carefully forward toward the table's center piece, an arrangement of imported North Carolina magnolias and short needle evergreens with several candles artfully placed here and there on the white linen cloth. A metalic click sounded. The flame from the American made Zeppo lighter lit up the dark room like a torch. After lighting the table candles, Shay lit the tall candelabra that sat on the birds eye cherry credenza next to the rather large bouquet of purple lilacs.

"You are most correct my dear Gertrude. Romance is a mood that may be found in the most unfortunate circumstances." Soft light cast flickering shadows on Victor's porkchop

cheeks, his beadywide eyes were shinning brightly, reflecting the study flame of the homemade candles. The magic beeswax candles, a birthday gift given to Pendragon by Gertrude.

"Mother please, it's hard enough to sit here. This opulence is obscene. People in other worlds are starving. Wars rage throughout many lands while we sit here and play nice nice." Commander Dean Siskiyou's voice quivered in anger. He made a sweeping motion over the table. The candles flickered in the motion of air disturbed by the wave of his hand. We are consuming more food in this one sitting than some families I know eat in a month.

"My word." Jeff said, rolling his eyes at Shay Patrick who looked dumb struck.

"Well la-tee-DA! Tisk-tisk, and all that Jolly Rot." Siskiyou oozed, gripped his salad fork as if he were squeezing Jeffery's neck. The cutting edge of his voice, and his starring eyes were razor sharp.

"That's enough of that boys. I won't warn you again." Turning her head to look at Pendragon. She continued. "You must forgive Dean, he tends to be a bit sanguinary, bearish at times. It must be difficult to slide between the many poor and war torn worlds he visits. His passion to save the Republic Federation from the evil alien Corporate Magistrate is-- I suspect directly inherited from his father side of the family. I will say no more on the subject."

Thumping sounds could be heard from the kitchen, it was Junior chewing on his ham bone.

CloudMaker Mountain

Standing rigid and silent with his big hands tightly gripping the back of the dinning room chair, the stranger awaits Pendragons return from the kitchen and his little pep talk with Bobby.
The smell of cannon and gunpowder slowly wafts down the hallway, through the living room, and into the dinning room. Jeff and Shay Patrick look at each other in a casual haut monde manner, and roll their eyes.
"Captain Siskiyou, let me introduce you to my good friends, this is..."
"It's Commander now Victor. I do not wish to seem rude, but I have read the files on each of your friends that now sit at this table and..."
Gertrude stood up abruptly, her small blue eyes sending daggers of light at Siskiyou.
"I'm sure you have Commander, however, you will conduct yourself as a gentle man and an officer at this table. I am aware that you have come through from a parallel world at war. As you know this is a place of peace, a neutrality zone. Pendragon's hard working apprentice Bobby Twofeathers has been so gracious as to prepare a wonderful meal for us, and you will enjoy his efforts. Do I make myself clear Commander?"
"Yes Mother."
With his mouth agape, Pendragon's soup spoon shuttered to an abrupt stop, as did Shay Patricks. Bobby had just picked up the tail end of the conversation as he came from the kitchen carrying the heavy crystal salad bowl.
"Gertrude, you didn't tell us Captain Siskiyou is your son."
"Sit down dear Bobby, your Créme au Potiron is delightful. Don't you agree Jeffery? Jeff's head nodded like a glued on back window baseball Kewpie doll, minus the grin. Victor raised his napkin, light dabbed at the yellow soup that had spilled on his silk vest.
"The Chicken is done, although I think the oven needs calibrating."

A howl erupted from the back yard, a mournful howl as ever was to be heard on the moors of Lockmab. The windows suddenly shook as thunder and lighting light up the night sky. The rain pours down as if it would never stop.
"Go get your dog big shot." said Gertrude with a wave of her hand towards the kitchen and the backdoor."
"I'll get him for you." Bobby was up and heading for the kitchen before anyone had a chance to say a word. He peeked in the warming oven for a moment to check on his chicken, grabbed a large towel from the linen rack, then opened the back door. The wolfhound stood with a most mournful sadness about him. Those sad eyes tugged at Bobby's heartstrings. "Get in here Junior you're soaking wet and freezing by the looks of you." The ham bone remained firmly clinched in the big dogs teeth. Bobby bent to cover the shivering hound with a towel before he had a chance to shake water all over Pendragon's kitchen floor. "Dang dog, I need another towel".
"Here Bobby." Victor handed bobby a large towel, and lay a wool blanket down.
"He's gonna make a mess Mr. Pendragon."
"I know. It's okay, we can clean it up later. He'll be warm and safe for now."
"How come things never seem to turn out the way you would like them to?"
"Never? Are you giving up? "Victor Pendragon's smile always made Bobby feel better. Chin up my boy, wash your hands, and serve our guests their dinner. I'll open that special bottle of white wine I've been saving. I think this occasion calls for something special to go with your rosemary and thyme roast chicken.
The wolfhound lay with his head down as he stretched out on the warm wool blanket. Junior's big eyes seemed follow Victor and Bobby's every move as they returned to the dinning room. His big paw remained draped protectively over the well gnawed ham bone. Some things, like true friendship are worth holding on to.

Ham Bone Magic

Bobby pauses momentarily, almost respectfully, as he places both hands on the counter, and leans forward with his head down. As Mr. Pendragon's apprentice he has spent hours mopping floors, scrubbing pots, peeling vegetables...an experience that was not wasted on him. No one had ever given him a chance before Mr. Pendragon came into his life. Victor was a hard task-master, one had to earn the right to apprentice in his book. Bobby Twofeathers wouldn't give up, he would show up everyday at Pendragons door asking if he could help in some small way. To have a passion to learn about cooking is more than just wanting to cook, it's about loving those you feed, that's where the real magic is.
Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, bobby reaches for the large cut crystal salad bowl, and the fresh herb dressing.
"What weighs heavy on you Bobby?" Victor's hand rest lightly on Bobby's shoulder. "When you do your best you're really in competition with yourself you know. We're here not to judge, or criticize your cooking skills Bobby, but to enjoy and share each others friendship. Food is a good way to do just that. Soon you will understand that the best cooks keep trying to please themselves first. Now into the dinning room with you and let me introduce you to Captain Siskiyu. That man will eat almost anything when he's hungry. By the way, isn't there a ham bone I was saving for stock in the refrigerator? I'm sure Junior would appreciate something to sink his teeth into."
"That big dogs name is Junior? Bruno, or Cereabus, Killer seems fitting... but Junior?"
A low growl comes from behind Pendragaon's big butt.
"Oh!" says Victor. "We were just talking about you."
A curled lip snarl and a rack of white fangs seemed less frightening than the Irish Wolfhounds big eyes that stared directly at Bobby.
"Don't you be drooling on my kitchen floor Junior, or I'll have Gertrude turn you into a Pink Poodle."
Throwing the ham bone out the back door, the Wolfhound was not far behind.. bounding out into the yard as if he were a happy pup.
"He might be big and scary looking my dear man, however, from the stories I've heard, he has saved Captain Siskiyu's life on many occasion."

The Magic Cook Book/part two

Jeff Fruitnick and Shay Patrick sat themselves on tall kitchen stools. Sipping their sherry, they began playfully ribbing Bobby Twofeathers as he stirred the simmering content of a copper sauce pan with a wooden spoon. With his starched white apron showing his fastidiousness, and his chiefs hat worn low and to one side Louisiana style, Bobby certainly looked the part of a man that could cook..
"Go ahead and laugh." he said with a pouting grin. "You can still be my friends when I'm a rich and famous Chief."
"What's money have to do with it Bobby?" Shay ask.
"What's money have do do with it? Why everything. Jeff has all those leisure suits, and you Shay Patrick are hung-up on bow ties, and I have a dream. Is it wrong to want to be somebody?"
A high pitched voice answered. "You already are somebody Bobby, a very special somebody, my friend, we love you." Gertrude Perlskin stood with her arms crossed, her shoulder lightly leaning against the the kitchen's archway entrance. Her wool tweed jacket, white silk blouse, and grey flannel slacks had seen better days, and yet she wore them as if she had just stepped off a plane from London on a boutique shopping spree. Her ironwood fox-head umbrella rested in Pengragon's Ohio Roseville umbrella stand in the foyer.
Gertrude Perlskin stood half the height of Bobby Twofeathers. She had to bend her neck back to an uncomfortable position to look him in the face. Bobby took several sideways steps from the stove, bent low to kiss her on the cheek.
"Thanks Gertrude." he said, then stepped back to the counter to glance over the notes Pendragon had written out concerning the various recipes for that nights dinner. Bobby vowed he would do his very best. Attention to detail was his forte...he loved to cook for his friends. After all, food prepared with love is a joy in life, pure magic as Pendragon would say.
"As always Bobby, whatever you're cooking smells wonderful. What are we having for dinner tonight?"
"Jeff, you're the man with a keen nose, can you guess?" Victors pearly smile and Bobby's toothy grin turned to Jeffery. Jeffery closed his eyes for a moment to answer.
"Roast Chicken with rosemary and thyme... caramelized potatoes, turnips, and carrots."
"Yes!" said Victor proudly, as he poured Jeff another sherry. Shay Patrick adjusted his bow tie as if he had known all along Jeff would know the answer.
"Victor, where is this mystery man you have invited to dinner?" Gertrude's bird like voice seemed to have a hint of impatiences in her question... just as the doorbell ring.
"Please, all of you into the dinning room." Bobby ladled the Créme au Potiron soup into a large tureen, and pulled a tray of golden brown croutons from the broiler oven. Pendragon's velvet smooth pumpkin purée with fresh ground white pepper is called comfort food. When cold winter rains pelted on the many window panes that looked out over the stormy moors of Lockmab, it is always a warm and cosy time for Mr. P's Créme au Potiron.
"Oh My!" said Gurtrude. She could see into the foyer area from where she stood as they all gathered around the dinning room table. She could see a big hulk of a man handing a wet oiled leather slicker, and a...'what were they called in the American West?' a tin gallon hat to Pendragon. The big man was not alone. By his side was the biggest dog Gurtrude Perlskin had ever seen.
Both Jeff and Shay sucked in air as if it might be their last breath, as they looked over their shoulders toward the front door. Coming from the kitchen, Bobby too looked towards the door just as he placed the hot soup tureen on the table. From the look on his face, and his shaking hands as he pulled away from the table, it was a good thing he hadn't looked a moment sooner, or they would have all been wearing Pumpkin soup for dinner. Without saying a word, Bobby did a quick about-face and hurried back into the kitchen.

Where Do We Go From Here?