Wishing You A Magical New Year!

With my moon-bud hand clutched to my chest I vowed at the start of the year
That Reunions I would seek, to tell stories sincere
Of friends and family and those waylaid stars blown hard to avaricious gales
I would find them once more and lead them safe passage to tales
With my steadfast pen, and that is what I have brought to thee in 2015
Tilled the rock earth of Your soul, thy heart’s river banks doused in green
Of many shores, faces and even bears found their way to my strawberry beacon
And not a picture or word have You missed, hunted everything with eyes of a Mohican
Ah, it has been an oceanic pleasure to know that You have read them all
I made You smile, joy flew through Your throat’s moist rainfall
In others You wept, for You wished to hold my hands and tell me with eyes:
Mazzy, I have been there too, the crow’s black angles terrorise
I lost the world like You did once and the maw of a hole I carry too
Bish-bash-bosh I say to those slimy shadows and arc I do my mucky shoe
The Sunrise is a God of stubbornness and it trumpets life each morn
And I soon return to You the following day with a story as gold as corn
I am a natural pilgrim of Light and I have taken oath to be Your Ray
A farmer girl from a distant land, I write on a stringy bale of hay
No other riches can I offer thee beside the craft of the story that dervishes my pen
Your face denied but I hear You shout, with thumbs up, “ten out of ten!
One thing You crave for but You say not for fear of recrimination
Is that You desire to have me peek out from the new moon, the leniency of a Magician
Oh dear You, remember I live in the faces of all those whom I photograph?
You know my policy on selfies even though You scoff at it and laugh!
But this evening is an exception, the last one of a year that’s proved to be a citrus blast
And so I fling my cape to one side and untie the policies that I had cast
I woke up this morning, the storm abated and the dawn Light jewelled the air
In rose red jumper I twirled and bathwater still glistening in my hair
I smiled into the mirror and knew just how to wrap this year in funny socks
I wished that Your face be the last face this year that I capture in my Magic Box…. ♥♥♥

Say “CHEERS“! Giggle, giggle!
Always Your Mazzy (Age 37, Acting Shoe Size Age 4) xxx 

Wishing You A Magical New Year!

“… I smiled into the mirror and knew just how to wrap this year in funny socks; I wished that Your face be the last face this year that I capture in my Magic Box….”

 

Photography & Words: © Masufa Khatun | Mazzy Khatun Photo Stories | Winchester| UK 2015

 

Jump(er) To Hyperspace: A Vortex Of Light!

Now, I do have a few specks of pragmatic dust mites in my brain to be able to graciously and humbly accept that in my lifetime it would be a megalithic miracle for the opportunity for space travel to come my way, however, the goblins of the realistic world have yet to forge a restraining order on my imaginative faculties, this nifty gift is highly advanced  of mine and has taken me as far as the other side of the Universe! An armchair, a pen and paper and soon enough I can transform myself into a pirate pilot manoeuvring impossible high-speed slants and dashes and dodges in deepest space whilst giving the itchy laser-blasting TIE fighters of the ever snooty Imperial authorities a proper run for their money! Ha ha!

Since England is in the grip of a ferocious storm at the moment and I have some time to spare today, while my baby sister is listening to old-school vinyl music and painting away, I am poring over old star charts, fiddling with my planisphere and learning more about the fireflies of constellations of the northern hemisphere, especially paying acute attention to the myths and legends that have delightfully added a mystical strata to otherwise dry scientific fact. The skies over England are variable in cloud cover at night so stargazing is a bit of a tricky proposition at the moment, however, I am noting down potential dates for clearer expeditions of the heavens using my trusty telescope and am particularly drawn to identifying, this time, the spectacular static dance sprays of a few favourite nebulas and perhaps even the scoot through the Bootes (The Herdsman) constellation that is being voyaged through by Comet Catalina as we speak! Ahem, ahem, I do apologise for the lavish bubbles of geeky enthusiasm in my words, it is known to subvert non-initiates of the Astronomical world to lose their own co-ordinates! I do apologise sincerely! Giggle, giggle!

Before I make a dash back to the study room I should like to leave You with a cheeky photograph that I took this morning in my garden – the site of the majority of my interstellar spy activities – wherein You shall see yet another telescope in my collection, kindly gifted to me by my adorable star fighter brother, Sambo, and leaning on it is the second Christmas present I received from my film buff brother, Ab, who is a rather clever chap, for he always knows how to appease my tomboy inclinations! Lipstick and shoes and bags do it for some women. My boys know that is not how I tick!

What makes me tick? What is my cup of tea, so to speak? 

A Haynes operational manual detailing the anatomy of the most famous Modified YT-1300 Corellian Freighter, The Millennium Falcon, whose metallic flower-head main sensor antenna fizzles my eyes with enough carbonated joy that if I could I would stand up on the world’s stage and announce to everyone that those cruddy Smartphones may come installed with the capacity to send signals but they have not a clue in the world how to do it in a style that defies time and space with whizpopping panache!

Seconds away from signing out from the dismal 2D universe of the virtual plane, but turning around just before I casually push the salon doors open in the cramped Mos Eisely Cantina, I ask thee, Dear You, are You ready to jump(er) to hyperspace with me…?  ♥♥♥


LINK: 
http://photography.nationalgeographic.com/photography/photo-of-the-day/ninohe-fireflies/?utm_source=Facebook&utm_medium=Social&utm_content=link_fb20151230photo-pod&utm_campaign=Content&sf17752017=1

 

Jump(er) To Hyperspace: A Vortext Of Light!

“I ask thee, Dear You, are You ready to jump(er) to hyperspace with me…?”

 

Photography & Words: © Masufa Khatun | Mazzy Khatun Photo Stories | Winchester| UK 2015

 

You, Dear Majnun, Are My Cup Of Tea!

In the cuddly lexicon of informal British language we have an age-old and highly esteemed phrase that goes along the lines of “it is my cup of tea” or, alternatively, “it is not my cup of tea”. Do not be misconceived by the natural function of Your tendency to load aboard the literal visage of these words, for here we do not imply that we are fiercely headway into battle over ownership of cups of tea, although I do admit if anyone were to dare to lay a finger over my teapot set I would not hesitate a fraction of a second to wallop them with my bathroom slippers! Giggle, giggle!

In actual matter, the phrase refers to an indication of what interests or does not interest us. For example, if I were to express that, “Stars Wars is my cup of tea”, what I mean by that strange adjoining of words is that I am pleasurably loopy about the film, not as it were, if You had adopted the literal route, that there was a loose leaf bag of tea and it contained all of everything that was ever made in the name of Star Wars! Ahem, ahem!

Whenever I enter into the virtual realm, a world that I hardly make entrances to because I am far greatly joyfully coiled with the musicality of the real world, my sixth sense always picks up the aura of a far, far away Majnun, a man whose face I cannot see with the lucidity that I wish for, perhaps that is down to the fact that faces change over lifetimes so it would make no sense to see any one face in particular.

But, I do know beyond certainty that this curious and incognito chap, is…

My cup of tea!

A bearer of the torch of Light as I am too, my heart tells me over and over again, a chirping chant as sweet and solemn as plum blossoms under a spring moon glanced from a secret pagoda in which two poet lovers meet, that he is the sort of man who would go all out to spark Life, Hope and Beauty even in the most harshest, desolate and coldest of places on earth. He is the song of warmth, a nest of stars, a fellow Magic Maker whom I pray to Destiny that I shall meet.

It is an old link that I provide below, but was posted in the virtual realm after my little woodsprite friend took hold of the porcelain tea cup to her mouth, and spectacular is her poise, as I imagine in my mind that should I come across this secretly hidden Majnun of mine, I would fall under a spell, awed and wonderstruck, by the sight of gazing upon someone other than myself who had it in him to create the finest of earthly Magic in front of my eyes… ♥♥♥  

 LINK: http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2015/12/23/photographer-creates-stunning-shower-of-ice-crystals-after-throwing-hot-tea-into-the-air_n_8868024.html

You, Dear Majnun, Are My Cup Of Tea!

“… should I come across this secretly hidden Majnun of mine, I would fall under a spell, awed and wonderstruck, by the sight of gazing upon someone other than myself who had it in him to create the finest of earthly Magic in front of my eyes…”

Photography & Words: © Masufa Khatun | Mazzy Khatun Photo Stories | Winchester| UK 2015

 

The Writing On The Wall…

The little girl who had been sat for a very long time, deep in joyful enchantment since she was surrounded by the most amazing emporium of wooden toys and trinkets that had not ever stepped foot in her dreams, now sat up from her cushion and made her way to something that was hung on the wall in front  of her. She could not explain what it was that pulled her towards it, only that she felt that she had become as drawn to it as the way mountainous waters are born to seek the mouth of rivers that lead it, in the end, to the satisfying and endless basin of the ocean. A path embroidered by a homeward hand.

Each step that she took to the framed object on the wall echoed a tinkle of a bell from somewhere around her ankles, and she somewhat confused and yet smiling, lowered her head to see how that could possibly be. She had never worn anything of the sort, and when she looked, her eyes could find nothing that that could be said to be responsible for such moonlit music, her feet were still housed in her mucky sneakers and her ankles were bare.

The music was coming from elsewhere.

She came closer to the framed picture on the wall and a small part of her felt somehow more at home than she had ever felt in her entire life, there was a strange memory swirling around her gut and it wanted to prise through her dawn flesh and tell her something of the life that she had once lived, in a far, far away land. A life where she had once carpentered Words with Freedom.

Gently touching the words encased under the framed glass, she questioned herself, could this be what it felt to touch the face of an old friend? Sighing and not yet realising why, she turned around slowly and let her head lean against the top edge of the frame. Where a beginning and an end and another beginning met, that is where she stood, and her face an innocent temple of silent longing, she heard the music again, a calling thread down by a soft pillar of Light. It tasted of the nectarine heart of undiscovered flowers.

I was the girl, and yes, I did let it in… ♥♥♥ 

LINK:  http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-india-35188176

The Writing On The Wall Flew Me Away!

“… Where a beginning and an end and another beginning met, that is where she stood, and her face an innocent temple of silent longing, she heard the music again, a calling thread down by a soft pillar of Light…”

Photography & Words: © Masufa Khatun | Mazzy Khatun Photo Stories | Winchester| UK 2015

 

Ahoy There! BALOO-N Pick-Up Lines!

Where to begin, dear Reader, but begin at the start I will for now
The mind of a Polymath is an orchestra blessed by sugar cubes of twilight’s plough
There’s a bark of black-white teeth, shoulder scratching, a wooden spoon on which man strums
Eccentrics do not fit in, we fit out, I’m the poetess who writes as she hums
Words have wings that I leave on the rooftops of white snowscape of paper
Suddenly strings appear in the sky, a form of touchable vapour
And on the end, the soul-blob of ink, turned magnificently into a balloon
Sometimes spotty, sometimes stripy, ready to float me to the harvest moon
It is a chauffeur face who smiles in minty light of the wildest and dreamiest adventure
My fingers reach out and toes say farewell, waving goodbye to dictatorial denture
The horizon is my morning stage and I am not afraid to play true or even a little hard
And salute I give to the Words, long live the legacy of Shaky Boo, my chosen Bard
And so Katie reads and reads strongly, her Voice an orchestral archipelago
My phenomenal mate ends with the beginning to turn, “Mazzy, Oh The Places You’ll Go…♥♥♥

LINK: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-jWPgLRqVik

 

We Sought The Strings That Played The Song Of Freedom [Phir Se Udd Chala!]

“… And so Katie reads and reads strongly, her Voice an orchestral archipelago;  My phenomenal mate ends with the beginning to turn, “Mazzy, Oh The Places You’ll Go…”

Photography & Poetry: © Masufa Khatun | Mazzy Khatun Photo Stories | Winchester| UK 2015

We Prefer To Act Our Shoe Size! [UK SIZE 4/European 37]

Stripping off our Hagrid winter coats, with marmalade eyes we opened a classic book
Inside the shop we read aloud in front of an audience who cared to look
Words penned by a Doctor but not the usual one that stomps in status and charges a lot
He was a writer like me, eccentric and rhymer, riding altogether an alternative train of thought!
It was the one book, of clever word play, that we chose in the entire collection to read
And my sixth sense foretold me that this particular page that tells of succeed
Was the one to photograph, for it would inspire ‘Someone’ and whose tread has begun on a long journey
His Faith quivers at times I can sense, a quill in the wind, thus concern is he
And those numbers that You gaze across pages of green, not are they shoe sizes or our age
But they are my calling to You, chip those mutinous mountains in front, to crowbar that shadowy cage
Mark the words of this golden storyteller, whose Voice echoes with the triumph of an eternal Mother set free
37 is indeed my age and quotes of the same number I gift to thee… ♥♥♥

LINK: http://brightdrops.com/dr-seuss-quotes

 

We Prefer To Act Our Shoe Size!

“… Mark the words of this golden storyteller, whose Voice echoes with the triumph of an eternal Mother set free; 37 is indeed my age and quotes of the same number I gift to thee… “

Photography & Poetry: © Masufa Khatun | Mazzy Khatun Photo Stories | Winchester| UK 2015

Bear Feet Need Not Always Be Bare!

In children’s books words are the deft-defying ambassadors of adventure, beauty, intrigue, delicious frightfulness and hope, the latter is as fantastically dogged and hard-nosed as a rhino who thinks he can beat anyone in the ring because he has just rummaged through a fresh bag of Haribos that has served to induce a huge energy surge in his legs! Whoopsee! Giggle, giggle!

So, with tea and cake in mind, but decidedly deferred till a little later in the day, Katie and I, who are both completely buffoon about books, skidded into Winchester’s only dedicated shop designed to cater for the appetites of those who cannot live without words, and we began to inhale, gulp and wash down the papery treasures neatly laid out in piles on various tables whose order somewhat defied logic. I prefer the exile of systematic pathways in such places, for books were meant to discover You as much as You are meant to discover them, an odd but comforting sentiment that is most effectively reinforced when there is an element of haphazardness in the layout of the fortress – a maze of sorts –  where You never quite know which literary mass will cross Your path. A bit like Life itself, since we never know who is walking round the corner, and  who on our path shall become ‘a star-cross Lover’, except I tend to take editorial liberties at such junctions, prodding Destiny to pen me something far more nicer than that of the tragic ending of Shakespeare’s masterpiece!

Well, today, of all days, a character born out of words swirled his fabulous attire of wonders in my path! Katie and I, in the middle of the bookshop, felt at once as if we were swept off our feet and placed in the very core of the capital itself! Whatever was it that made us believe that we had transported ourselves to one of the most bustling train stations of all of England?

Because and behold and be bewitched…

We had suddenly spotted a certain extremely cuddlesome, furry immigrant!

He told us that he came from Darkest Peru and that his Aunty Lucy had, with breaking heart, sent him to our world so that he may find a loving family and a new home.

A worrying marmalade habit he admitted to, this chap was in possession of the real artefact which he kept safely under his floppy hat in case of those nasty, disastrous moments of Code 5 emergencies!

And, incidentally, it was being found on a London train station that had inspired his rather exceedingly strange but affectionately poised name.

I speak of Paddington, of course!

I do have every right in the universe to whack You on the head with my Poppins umbrella should You have not correctly guessed the figure in question from the first clue alone! Ahem, ahem!

Katie and I jumped with strawberry-flavoured joy to see our dear old Paddy, a modest little bear, lost and unwanted in one of the largest cities in the world, and yet who eventually comes to realise that there was more to him than he had expected. A life of horrid rejection and loneliness is turned on its head thanks to a discovery more splendid than finding gold or diamonds or the lost world of Atlantis! A family to match the colour and bohemianism and outgoing spirit as his own, when the Browns open their doors and arms to the orphan bear, he promptly returns to being his happy self that at times he himself notices that it becomes incredibly tricky to tell the difference between love, marmalade and the sunrise! It was all the same to him because true happiness does that to a bear!

Katie, it is a Sign! We’ve found a rare Paddy Bear, look at those waterproof red wellies he’s got on!” The words blabbed out of my mouth at a speed of knots and if You remember we were in a bookshop, temples of respectable silence, that my rattling of the vocal chords stirred a few heads out of their trances to poke stares at me. I must say none of it was hostile, there were smiles of agreement and a few fond smirks that acknowledged that it was perfectly acceptable for two grown women to be thoroughly passionate about a children’s book character! That is Winchester for You! Giggle, giggle!

May I remind You that Paddy Bear in the film DOES NOT wear any sturdy footwear throughout his time on screen which was a little let down for those of us who had grown up with the books, though it must be said, his pudgy paws all exposed allowed me to admire them in a way I had never done so in the past. He does have the most adorable set of feet, dear Reader, and no matter the grossness of the terrains he must clamber and climb I can never imagine those little digits of his – no not numbers – to ever be smote with stinky feet! It is a bare – sorry – bear thing to be endowed with such stench-busting traits!

Mazzy darling, take the photograph!” Katie was on all stations go! An auspicious acquisition, a bear with no bare feet, equipped with hardy footwear and ready to take on the barbaric temperaments of the British weather system, my friend urged me not to hesitate a second more and I gladly obliged her legitimate whim and took the shot!

The moral of this short tale, as short as the hero in it and the heroine who wrote it, is that time NEVER stands still and nor does Destiny, with a dinky self-sprinkle of Faith in oneself, You never know of all the places You will go. If You do not believe me then ask Yourself, why are YOU reading my words?

Words have the power to hold Your hands even if the weather to be walked under is wet and windy, and by reading this story – that happens to be about a story – tonight You have travelled a little closer to my Home, courtesy of a pair of Wellington boots blessed by the colours that You have already REaD of in the breast of the winter robin and in the strokes of Lata ji’s pen…  ♥♥♥

LINK [A big giver but never did he ask from anyone for a pair of Wellington boots!] https://www.facebook.com/PaddingtonBear/photos/a.157585777634955.33066.125079994218867/1002772773116247/?type=3&theater   

 

Bear Feet Need Not Always Be Bare!

“… Words have the power to hold Your hands even if the weather to be walked under is wet and windy, and by reading this story about a story tonight You have travelled a little closer to my Home, courtesy of a pair of Wellington boots…”

 

Photography & Words: © Masufa Khatun | Mazzy Khatun Photo Stories | Winchester| UK 2015

 

 

Christmas Month Puzzle Box FINALE: On The Matter Of Acquiring The RIGHT Number To Reach Me!

Ah, so You have made it to the last and most gloriously sumptuous festive puzzle box of the series! Hurrah, hurrah!

Before I might proceed with the means by which You may succeed in unveiling the veil of my heart allow me to shake Your hand in the humblest of appreciation and thanks for taking the time to pore over my words, and not only that, I can sense that a particular ‘Someone’ waits upon my storytelling Voice like an eager child with elbows pressed down on the windowsill, eyes seeking for the footfalls of my mucky shoes to appear…

Perhaps it is due to the fact that I have always, with utmost diligence, stuck by my Faith in times bright and in times dark that my Allah and his penmanship in action, what we call ‘Destiny’, have bestowed on me blessings spooned of honey and milk that wrap around my authorial aura,  smilingly His Guardianship has become my consort on paper so that what I write of forever shall seek to find ways to blossom into spectacular colours on the stage of reality. So beautiful are these blossoms that one passing by would think that butterflies and roses had at last become as One.

So what highest honour and Love could I possibly gift You today, on Christmas Day, as a mark of my ancient, starry and blazing connection to You. Well, while we did enjoy a very late night here at the hobbit house I was in bed by the time Mr Tim Peake, British Astronaut, luckily aboard the ISS, committed his little act of comical boo-boo, accidental in nature but genuinely funny, a rufescent error that was DESTINED to happen because the red bauble of my hobbity heart prayed for it!

All splattered over the British papers today, Mr Peake, at the peak of his astronomical career and who made a rare starlit swoosh past my house last evening, missed his family so much – and one would do so at this particularly special time of the year – that he attempted to call home.

And he did!

EXCEPT, he dialled the WRONG NUMBER and instead it reached another lady whom he refers to as PLANET EARTH! Mmmm, I wonder who she is?! Giggle, giggle and wink wink! ♥ 

So, my Dear Reader, are You READY? Lets see if You can solve this Puzzle Box!

You MUST click on this link and read the entire article about Mr Peake’s blunder:

LINK: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-35178210

Done? Good!

Now, cast Your dodgy memory back to one of my earlier posts – CHRISTMAS MONTH PUZZLE BOX 11 – and read it with extreme thoroughness, INCLUDING the comment stream under it:

LINK: https://mazzykhatunphotostories.wordpress.com/2015/12/14/christmas-month-puzzle-box-11-on-the-matter-of-using-light-to-live-in-the-moment/

How on EARTH did you know this would happen to me?” I write in flabbergasted breathlessness in response to my honourable friend’s astronomical praises for my dazzling storytelling craftsmanship! My honourable friend, somewhat perplexed, has not the slightest clue to what is going on and I step away from the brooding atmosphere of Mystery that I have planted in his imagination with a smug twinkle in my toes! With dignified resignation, my honourable friends replies with a capitalised but mildly miffed, “ALRIGHT”.

WRONG! Well, in Mr Peake’s case it was! Giggle, giggle!

Ahem, ahem, the time has come for You to flip open the notepad and draft in the pencil to thy bidding.

Note down the Puzzle Box Number of the article that You have just read. Now place the NUMBER OF COMMENTS at the end of the number that You have written – do not count any additional comments that may be added today.

If You have a morsel of intelligence left in the old brain after all this enigmatic navigating then You should have a generated a 3 DIGIT NUMBER!

The first two numbers of this sequence equates to the MONTH and the end number is the DAY. You must seek out the post that was composed on this day and month. The only clue that I shall be munificent enough to reveal is that the title of the article in question will put everything RIGHT! Oh stop moaning like a spoilt brat, off You go! Giggle, giggle!

Ah, You have found it! Now, listen very berry merry carefully…

Read the entire post with the most scrutinizing eyes You could possibly muster, for I have sneaked inside it, somewhere amid the forest of my wordings, a WEB LINK, and if You have braved it this far into my kingdom of Puzzles then You are indeed deserve-worthy to open the DOOR and beyond it a MESSAGE from my heart to Yours, only for You, on this Christmas Day… ♥♥♥

With every word and world hidden in my heart, Merry Christmas!
Your Guiding Star Always, Mazzy ♥♥♥

Christmas Month Puzzle Box FINALE: On The Matter Of Acquiring The RIGHT Number To Reach Me!

“… if You have braved it this far into my kingdom of Puzzles then You are indeed deserve-worthy to open the DOOR and beyond it a MESSAGE from my heart to Yours, only for You, on this Christmas Day… “

 

Photography & Words: © Masufa Khatun | Mazzy Khatun Photo Stories | Winchester| UK 2015

 

Christmas Month Puzzle Box 20: On The Matter Of The First Light This Evening Over Southern England Is Courtesy Of Santa & His Rain-Dears!

If You are perspicacious enough You will most likely wriggle Your eyebrows a little with the appearance of this post since my normal routine in the day does not allow for composing storytelling treats so early on, however, it is CHRISTMAS EVE and there is plenty to be done so before I am flamboyantly swept off my feet I thought I would launch into the virtual world and provide a moist slice of sweet enchantment before I disappear! Of course, I shall endeavour to make a brief entrance tomorrow – the surprise finale to the CHRISTMAS PUZZLE BOX for which I advise that You prepare tonight by recruiting a notepad and pencil to Your side. Your Jedi Mind tricks are sadly futile against my leather-bound cognitive defences, You cannot extract what I have in store for You, only I shall add that You must adopt patience for the meanwhile, without chiselling through those nails that have already fallen prey to gnawed and bitten bombardments by Your anxious teeth! Giggle, giggle!

A jolly splendiferous LIGHT phenomenon is to sign its way through the evening skies tonight over my house and the surrounding counties in the South of England! At approximately 5.21pm (GMT) a fatty-bombatty chap by the name of Santa Claus shall be whizzing through the twilight firmament with the trusty help of his team of smiling Rain-Dears – sorry – Rein Deers, and You’d be unforgivably dull in the head if You had not a clue in the world as to what such a bubbly chap would be doing up there, on top of the roof of the planet!

Why, he is on course to deliver presents to all the children of the world!

I cannot wait to receive mine, and something tells me that like every year he has packed a nice hard-back edition of a classic novel under my name! Oh, how very exciting indeed!

But, underlying such magical feats of Light in the skies there is also a more let us say ‘grown-up’ explanation for what we are to witness tonight. A little something called ‘The International Space Station’ has been announced by NASA for a scheduled fly-over the Southern shires of England, so all the big people around me shall be pointing to the skies and exclaiming highly realistic comments along the lines of, “Just look at that, there goes Mr Tim Peake and his astronaut crew and I bet they are missing their families”, or “Such a huge piece of metal and it only looks like a pin-point scudding along at snail speed!

On the contrary, the little people – especially Hobbits and children – shan’t be shackled indoors, instead racing out into our gardens or on the street with arms waving out to the indigo cloak of the night, shouting and screaming in smiling and joyful and exuberant ecstasy, “SANTA, SANTA!! Oh my God, it’s SANTA!” You know me all too well, yes, that is exactly how my scripted madness shall unfold tonight! Giggle, giggle!

And, when I see that skimming Light of his beautiful sleigh tonight, in undaunted adventuress panache, my eyes shall be in prayer towards that horizon to the South as it was once so for a certain Skywalker, and after a still pause I will say to that red-coated chap so far, far away, “To go to the North Pole and to sit by the trinkets and toys and gold-kissed colours of your humble wooden workshop, now that would be an awfully big adventure…” ♥♥♥

A Merry Christmas Eve to You, my Dearest Reader!
A twinkle in the sky, Mazzy Hobbit xxx         

LINK: http://www.dailyecho.co.uk/leisure/news/14164699.See__Santa__in_the_sky_on_Christmas_Eve_over_Southampton/

 

Christmas Month Puzzle Box 20: On The Matter Of The First Light This Evening Over Southern England Courtesy Of Santa & His Rain-Dears!

“… To go to the North Pole and to sit by the trinkets and toys and gold-kissed colours of your humble wooden workshop, now that would be an awfully big adventure…”

Photography & Words: © Masufa Khatun | Mazzy Khatun Photo Stories | Winchester| UK 2015

 

Christmas Month Puzzle Box 19: On The Matter Of A Rain-Dear That Tells The Time!

The swell of excitable electrical charges have bubbled up in everyone’s hearts as we draw closer to Christmas Eve and Christmas Day when I shall be spending my time with my cheery family, doing constructive nothingness and playing games all day, tired feet pleasantly to be upheld by jelly-belly bean bags we have dotted around the living room and to eat but rich truffles and mince pies and candied cake! I thought today would be such a day but, to my even fonder delight, my students from college called me up and made a cheeky demand that I join them for a tea time spell in our favourite café in town before I retired home! How could I resist?! I jumped out of the house, bags of presents in tow, and caught up with them all!

When I got there I was greeted with loud Victorious shouts and some of the elderly folks who were unwittingly sat nearby momentarily saw their fragile hearts leap out of their chests to plummet, kamikaze style, into the tea cup in front of them! Poor chaps, I did not mean for my presence to startle them out of the complacency of their peace, but my students are famously known to create unrestrained and extravagant shows of their enthusiasm for my Force! Giggle, giggle!

An AMAZING time was had, and my teapot saw many refills that it began to think of itself as a warm Assamese ocean, miniature in size and bordered by a stainless steel shore that shared a riverine passage to a land known as a tea cup! I was so absorbed with the festive atmosphere alit by the beautiful souls of these pure-hearted individuals, my adorable students, that the thought of taking a photograph only struck me at the last minute before I distributed out my farewells!

What have I to share with You?

Mr Ben flaunting his expertise in impersonating a RAIN DEAR – sorry – REIN DEER!

When one orders food from the counter, the waiters issue wooden spoons with numbers painted in red on the bowl section of the utensil which is then lodged inside tiny glass bottles that You take to Your table so that whatever You have ordered from the menu is delivered to the right person. Mr Ben and one of his peers were assigned the numbers ‘7’ and ‘6’ respectively. He simply could not contain himself, the mischief molecules in his system are extraordinarily high, and thus he reached out to pick both spoons and then proceeded to stick them on each side of his head!

Hey presto, a RAIN DEAR – sorry – a REIN DEER endowed with a pair of wooden antlers!

Ah, just admire that sparky smile on his giggling face! Many things there are in this world but somethings are of such magical buoyancy that when they make me tremendously happy I defy gravity itself and float, float and float…

At the time of writing this piece, tonight, a salient icon of enigma and puzzles, Mr Sherlock demonstrates that he and I share a psionic connection, for he too has FLAGGED up the numbers ‘7’ and ‘6’ on his pocket watch! Please click on the link below and pay particular attention to the wording in the caption. Might every Sherlock FAN in every city in the world, all awake at the same time, be causing that gentle breeze in the air where You are, enough to tickle and flutter into Technicolor life, rainbow jigsaws of the sky… ♥♥♥     

LINK: https://www.facebook.com/ModernSherlock/photos/a.181867198528012.40626.118473861534013/905217102859681/?type=3&theater

 

Christmas Month Puzzle Box 19: On The Matter Of A Rain-Dear That Tells The Time!

“… He simply could not contain himself, the mischief molecules in his system are extraordinarily high, and thus he reached out to pick both spoons and then proceeded to stick them on each side of his head…”

 

Photography & Words: © Masufa Khatun | Mazzy Khatun Photo Stories | Winchester| UK 2015