M achinations …

 

And the sun rises and sets and passes over us.
And the moon rises and sets and passes over us.
And the stars rise and set and pass over us.

I turn around as Kylie and Nigel enter the clearing in the middle of the hedge labyrinth made of laurel plants.

»There you are«, Kylie says.

»With that black sheep we have met before«, Nigels adds the obvious.

»Creatures of night, brought to light! the black sheep proclaims. »What do I have to do to make you believe that I am Mr Tumbleweed, a faun, not just any black sheep from the pastures, humans? It is like being caged again at Mommy Fortuna's Midnight Carnival where they put false, shining horns on real unicorns' foreheads to make so-called normal people see and recognize them as real unicorms.«

Kylie sighs deeply.

»And somehow I feel like it was the last unicorn at that time«, she whispers.

»And we have missed the Full Corn Moon, the black sheep, who wants to be called Mr Tumbleweed, the faun, remarks. »Some will call it Harvest Moon because it was the nearest moon to the autumnal equinox.«

And the mystical being starts turning in circles, slowly at first, then causing a little whirlwind made of earth and dust. The animal is getting taller, standing up on hindlegs that all of a sudden look more like goats' legs than sheep legs. Some kind of transformation has begun.

»Creatures of night, brought to light!«

Bored of the life in the City of Gold
He'd left and let nobody know.
Gone were the towers he had known from a child,
Alone with the dream of a life
He travelled the wide open road,
The blinkered arcade,
In search of another to share in his life.
Nowhere.
Everyone looked so strange to him.

They've got no horns and they've got no tail
They don't even know of our existence.
Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold
That lies in the deep distance, he cried

And wept as they led him away to a cage
Beast that can talk, read the sign.
The creatures they pushed and they prodded his frame
And questioned his story again.
But soon they grew bored of their prey
Beast that can talk?
More like a freak or publicity stunt.
Oh
No.

They've got no horns and they've got no tail
They don't even know of our existence.
Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold
That lies in the deep distance, he cried

And broke down the door of the cage and marched on out.
He grabbed a creature by the scruff of his neck, pointing out:
There, beyond the bounds of you weak imagination
Lie the noble towers of my city, bright and gold.
Let me take you there, show you a living story
Let me show you others such as me
Why did I ever leave?

They've got no horns and they've got no tail

🌕
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🌕🌕🌕
🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕
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🌕🌕🌕
🌕🌕🌕

🌕🌕
🌕

Today is Friday, the 29th of September 2023.

Full Corn Moon

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 264

🦛🦛🦛🦛🦛

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🦛🦛🦛🦛🦛

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🦛🦛🦛🦛🦛 Today is Monday, the 25th of September. Some say a hippopotamus is only a rhinoceros without the horn. Some say - and I am one of them - hippopotamus is Greek for fat, little horse. But always remember: ALL THESE ANIMALS ARE DANGEROUS! All these cute little Dangerouses ...

"Bromford"

Stonecutters made them from stones
Chosen specially for you and I
Who will live inside
The mountaineers gathered tinder
Piled high
In which to take along
Driving many miles, knowing they'd get here

When they got here, all exhausted
On the roof leaks they got started
And now when the rain comes
We can be thankful

Ooh aah ooh
When the mountaineers
Saw that everything fit they were
Glad and so they took off

Thought we were due for
A change or two
Around this place
When they get back they're all mixed up with no one to stay with


The village used to be all one really needs
That's filled with hundreds and hundreds of chemicals
That mostly surround you
You wish to flee but it's not like you
To listen to me, listen to me

Oh, oh, oh and when the morning comes,
We will step outside
We will not find another man in sight
We like the newness, the newness of all
That has grown in our garden soaking for so long

Whenever I was a child I wondered what if my name had changed
Into something more productive like Bromford
Been born in 1891
Waiting with my Aunt Rosaline

Thought we were due
For A change or two
Around this place
When they get back they're all mixed up with no one to stay with

1891
They roamed around and foraged
They made their house from cedars
They made their house from stones


Oh, they're a little like you
And they're a little like me
We have all we need

Thought we were due for
A change or two
Around this place
This place
This place

When they get back they're all mixed up with no one to stay with
When they get back they're all mixed up with no one to stay with

E arnings …

 

»Why did you do that to us, Professor? We loved you! We trusted you!«

KussKuss, the llama, is getting all melodramatic.

»I am not a professor, I told you«, answers Claude Sideburns, who is not a professor for archaeology and not as they used to call him Claude Burnside. »And what did I do to you?«

The llama is drowning in tears.

With a shaky voice it says, »You betrayed us. Twice! You wanted to steal our treasure map and led us to that fiery dragon under the lake just to take all of our belongings. How yould you be so rude, so mean?«

Taken aback Sideburns is waving his hands in front of his body in a defensive gesture.

»But that was only a tall tale some artificial intelligence from the internet wrote. Nothing but a pack of lies. Don't you remember?«

Now Gilbert, the butler, who might or might not be Sideburns' father, takes back the stack of paper and is waving it in his hands in a most dramatic way.

»But it is all printed out here, loud and clear«, he proclaims. »Ehm, I mean, black on white, printed out black on white, word by word.«

»We are wasting time here, my dears«, Hildegard, the housekeeper, remarks. »Feels like we are walking and talking into our fourth season here without getting anywhere. And still we have no signs of Bromford Bibble and the other two and not the slightest clue how to use that circle-dial of stones no-one has ever seen before.«

»Sorry, Hildegard«, Gilbert whispers. »I got carried away.«

But Hildegard is smiling a very smirkey smile and I do not know whether the other two heard her following words or not,

»There still might be dragons.«

And a faint choir of voices like from the laurel leaves of the hedge labyrinth itself keeps on singing its' bittersweet little song,

Bored of the life in the City of Gold

He'd left and let nobody know.

Gone were the towers he had known from a child,

Alone with the dream of a life

He travelled the wide open road,

The blinkered arcade,

In search of another to share in his life.

Nowhere.

Everyone looked so strange to him.

They've got no horns and they've got no tail

They don't even know of our existence.

Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold

That lies in the deep distance, he cried

And wept as they led him away to a cage

Beast that can talk, read the sign.

The creatures they pushed and they prodded his frame

And questioned his story again.

But soon they grew bored of their prey

Beast that can talk?

More like a freak or publicity stunt.

Oh

No.

They've got no horns and they've got no tail

They don't even know of our existence.

Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold

That lies in the deep distance, he cried

And broke down the door of the cage and marched on out.

He grabbed a creature by the scruff of his neck, pointing out:

There, beyond the bounds of you weak imagination

Lie the noble towers of my city, bright and gold.

Let me take you there, show you a living story

Let me show you others such as me

Why did I ever leave?

💱💱💱

💱💱💱💱💱
💱💱💱💱💱
💱💱💱💱💱

💱💱💱💱💱

Today is Saturday, the 23rd of September 2023.

Bon automne ! Bon automne !

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 263

Today is Sunday, the 17th of September 2023.

I cannot believe it. September?
The month that is not the seventh month of a year?

Who added these two additional months? Some kind of Pope, I think.

But let's welcome the rhinosaurs now...

WELCOME RHINOS... AURS???

🦏🦏🦏🦏🦏🦏🦏🦏🦏🦏🦏🦏🦏🦏🦏🦏🦏

"A Rainy Night In Bromford"

I've been loving you a long time
Down all the years, down all the days
And I've cried for all your troubles
Smiled at your funny little ways

We watched our friends grow up together
And we saw them as they fell
Some of them fell into Heaven
Some of them fell into Hell

I took shelter from a shower
And I stepped into your arms
On a rainy night in Bromford
The wind was whistling all its charms

I sang you all my sorrows
You told me all your joys
Whatever happened to that old song?
To all those little girls and boys

Sometimes I wake up in the morning
The ginger lady by my bed
Covered in a cloak of silence
I hear you talking in my head

I'm not singing for the future
I'm not dreaming of the past
I'm not talking of the first time
I never think about the last

Now this song is nearly over
We may never find out what it means
Still there's a light I hold before me
And you're the measure of my dreams, the measure of my dreams

Sometimes I wake up in the morning
The ginger lady by my bed
Covered in a cloak of silence
I hear you talking in my head

I'm not singing for the future
I'm not dreaming of the past
I'm not talking of the first time
I never think about the last

Now this song is nearly over
We may never find out what it means
Still there's a light I hold before me
And you're the measure of my dreams, the measure of my dreams

S acrifices …

 
»An Articial Intelligence ate my homework«, is all KussKuss, the llama can say.

»A.I.«, Gilbert, the butler, adds, »they call it A.I. being short for Artificial Intelligence.«

Bored of the life in the City of Gold
He'd left and let nobody know.
Gone were the towers he had known from a child,
Alone with the dream of a life
He travelled the wide open road,
The blinkered arcade,
In search of another to share in his life.
Nowhere.
Everyone looked so strange to him.

They've got no horns and they've got no tail
They don't even know of our existence.
Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold
That lies in the deep distance, he cried

And wept as they led him away to a cage
Beast that can talk, read the sign.
The creatures they pushed and they prodded his frame
And questioned his story again.
But soon they grew bored of their prey
Beast that can talk?
More like a freak or publicity stunt.
Oh
No.

They've got no horns and they've got no tail
They don't even know of our existence.
Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold
That lies in the deep distance, he cried

And broke down the door of the cage and marched on out.
He grabbed a creature by the scruff of his neck, pointing out:
There, beyond the bounds of you weak imagination
Lie the noble towers of my city, bright and gold.
Let me take you there, show you a living story
Let me show you others such as me

➕➕➕➕➕➕
➕➕➕➕➕➕
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Today is Wednesday, the 13th of September 2023.

Colours in the darkest hour of the night…

S acreds …

 

»What is taking them so long?«

The man they used to call Professor Burnside but wasn't a professor of archaeology at all and whose real name is Claude Sideburns - KussKuss, the llama still thinks that is a ridiculous name but does not want to complain orherwise it might have to admit that if the Professor wasn't a professor at all it - the animal - had never been a student of archaeology, either - was looking impatiently at the entrance of the freshly grown hedge labyrinth on the grounds of his home, Brompton Castle.

»What an unnecessary complicated sentence«, Hildegard, who is Claude Sideburns' housekeeper but also his mother somehow, utters snorrily.

Bromford Bibble was still inside of the dense laurel hedges, as were Kylie and her son Nigel after they went in there to search for their friend.  They hadn't heard of them for quite some time now. The whole world seems to have fallen in silence except for some faint cries of wild geese passings by in the sky.

»Master Claude.«

That is Gilbert, Claude Sideburns' butler but also his father somehow, coming from the big house that Brompton Castle is with some papers waving in his hands.

»Master Claude, I think you should read this.«

»What is it?« KussKuss, the llama asks while Sideburns is taking a quick look at the printed words.

Gilbert, the butler, explains, »I have asked the Artificial Intelligence in Master Claude's computer for help and fed it with some keywords about our current situation and problems. Maybe it can help explain what is going on here.«

»Artificial what?« the llama asks with the biggest of all question marks above its' camelid head but is signed to shut up by the other three while Claude Sideburns starts reading aloud this printed notes,

»Bromford Bibble was a curious boy who loved to explore the world with his loyal companion KussKuss, a walking and talking llama. One day, he received a mysterious letter from his friend Kylie, who invited him to join her and her son Nigel on an adventure to find the sunken island of Greenlion. The letter also contained a green treasure map that showed the way to the island through a circle of stones and the different full-moon cycles of the year. Bromford was thrilled and packed his bags, along with KussKuss, and set off to meet Kylie and Nigel.

Along the way, they met Claude Sideburns, a man who claimed to be a professor of ancient history, but was actually a con artist who wanted to steal the treasure map. He pretended to befriend Bromford and his friends, and offered to guide them to the island. He also brought along his butler and father Gilbert, and his housekeeper and mother Hildegard, who were part of his scheme. Bromford and his friends were unaware of Claude's true intentions, and welcomed him and his family into their group.

As they followed the map, they encountered many wonders and dangers, such as magical creatures, hidden traps, and mysterious puzzles. One night, they came across a faun named Mr. Tumbleweed, who was bored of his life in the City of Gold, a hidden realm where all the fauns lived. He had left his home without telling anyone, and wandered the world in search of something new. He had horns and a tail, which made him look very strange to Bromford and his friends. He sang them a song about his longing for his city:

They've got no horns and they've got no tail
They don't even know of our existence.
Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold
That lies in the deep distance.

Bromford and his friends felt sorry for Mr. Tumbleweed, and invited him to join them on their quest. Mr. Tumbleweed agreed, hoping to find some excitement along the way. He also warned them about Claude Sideburns, who he recognized as a notorious thief and liar. Bromford and his friends were shocked and angry, and confronted Claude about his deception. Claude admitted that he was not a professor, but insisted that he had changed his mind about stealing the map, and that he wanted to help them find the island. He begged them to forgive him and let him stay with them. Bromford and his friends were doubtful, but decided to give him another chance.

They continued their journey, until they reached the final destination: a large lake surrounded by mountains. According to the map, the island of Greenlion was hidden under the water, and could only be revealed by the light of the full moon. They waited until nightfall, when the moon rose in the sky. They saw a beam of moonlight hit a spot in the lake, creating a ripple on the surface. They quickly got into a boat and rowed towards the spot, hoping to see the island emerge from the depths.

But as they approached, they realized that it was not an island at all, but a huge dragon with green scales that blended with the water. The dragon roared and breathed fire at them, causing them to panic and turn back. They realized that they had been tricked by Claude Sideburns, who had swapped the real map with a fake one that led them to the dragon's lair. Claude laughed wickedly and revealed that he had followed them in another boat, along with Gilbert and Hildegard. He said that he had planned this all along, and that he wanted to feed them to the dragon so that he could take their belongings and escape.

Bromford and his friends were terrified and angry, but they did not give up hope. They decided to fight back against Claude and the dragon, using their wits and courage. They also remembered that they had Mr. Tumbleweed with them, who had horns and a tail like the dragon. They asked him if he could talk to the dragon and calm it down. Mr. Tumbleweed said that he would try, but he was not sure if it would work.

He approached the dragon cautiously, speaking in a friendly tone:

Hello friend, welcome home.«

* * * * * * * * * * *

Bored of the life in the City of Gold
He'd left and let nobody know.
Gone were the towers he had known from a child,
Alone with the dream of a life
He travelled the wide open road,
The blinkered arcade,
In search of another to share in his life.
Nowhere.
Everyone looked so strange to him.

They've got no horns and they've got no tail
They don't even know of our existence.
Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold
That lies in the deep distance, he cried

And wept as they led him away to a cage
Beast that can talk, read the sign.
The creatures they pushed and they prodded his frame
And questioned his story again.
But soon they grew bored of their prey
Beast that can talk?
More like a freak or publicity stunt.
Oh
No.

They've got no horns and they've got no tail
They don't even know of our existence.
Am I wrong to believe in a City of Gold
That lies in the deep distance, he cried

And broke down the door of the cage and marched on out.
He grabbed a creature by the scruff of his neck, pointing out:
There, beyond the bounds of you weak imagination
Lie the noble towers of my city, bright and gold.
Let me take you there, show you a living story

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

Today is Monday, the 11th of September 2023.

Artificial Intelligence

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 262

Today is Saturday, the 9th of September 2023.

This time it's a Patronus. Harry Potter's Patronus...
Wait a minute... His Patronus is his Dad?

Daddy-issues all along...

🦌🦌🦌
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🦌🦌🦌


"Bromford Street"

There's nothing short of dying
Half as lonesome as the sound
Sleep in city sidewalks
Sunday morning coming down

Out of my window
Out of my window
Out of my window
Out of my window

Rock of Ages cleft for me
I'll hide myself in thee
Let the water and the blood
Cure what is wrong with me
Rock of Ages does your Spirit
Walk on Bromford Street?
Can it cure what's wrong with me?
Can it cure what's wrong with me?

There's nothing short of dying
Half as empty as the sound
Sleep in city sidewalks
When Sunday morning turns to night

Out of my window
Out of my window
Out of my window
Out of my window

Rock of Ages cleft for me
I'll hide myself in thee
Let the water and the blood
Cure what is wrong with me

Rock of ages does your Spirit
Walk on Bromford Street?
Can it cure what's wrong with me?
Can it cure what's wrong with me?

When my eyes shall
When my eyes shall close
When my eyes shall
When my eyes shall close
When my eyes shall
When my eyes shall close
When my eyes shall
When my eyes shall close

Nothing short of dying
(Out of my window)
Nothing short of dying
(Out of my window)
Nothing short of dying
(Out of my window)
Nothing short of dying

Rock of Ages cleft for me
I'll hide myself in thee
Let the water and the blood
Cure what is wrong with me
Rock of Ages does your spirit
Walk on Bromford Street?

Can it cure what's wrong with me?
Can it cure what's wrong with me?

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 261

Today is Friday, the 1st of September 2023.

If horses were birds
They could be able to sing like nightingales, maybe...
Not larks... Nightingales...

It was the nightingale, and not the lark,
That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings on yond pomegranate tree.

🐎

A Nightingale Sang In Bromford Square

That certain night, the night we met
There was magic abroad in the air
There were angels dining at the Ritz
And a nightingale sang in Bromford Square

I may be right, I may be wrong
But I'm perfectly willing to swear
That when you turned and smiled at me
A nightingale sang in Bromford Square

The moon that lingered over London town
Poor puzzled moon, he wore a frown
How could he know we two were so in love?
The whole darn world seemed upside down

The streets of town were paved with stars
It was such a romantic affair
And, as we kissed and said goodnight,
A nightingale sang in Bromford Square

The streets of town were paved with stars
It was such a romantic affair
And, as we kissed and said goodnight,
A nightingale sang in Bromford Square