Princess’s dreams

A bird sang near the blue window. A song of the little throat was lessened, but not silenced by the clear surface of the window. It still reached the ears of Hayley, a little girl in her pink pajamas with small teddy bears that was sleeping in her bed located by the window.
It took about three days before a girl started to notice the constant song that played every morning and through out the day.

But, once she heard it, she heard it even when it was miles away.

The song made her think of adventures of flying to the castles built in the sky, made from marble and gold where white pegasus would take her to live and play. She told her mom of such dreams and her mom laughed good-naturedly. Wanting to teach her daughter kindness as well as some nice habits, every day for four days she showed Hayley how and where to put the food out for the little bird. Soon enough, just as mother predicted, the little girl started doing it on its own as a part of her morning routine. Brush your teeth, wash your face, comb your hair and put the food out for the little bird. Soon, not only did the little bird came into the habit of waiting for food, but it invited friends. Two, then three came until after a month, a dozen little creatures appeared to sing their songs together and then cheer in food offered to them.
Hayley’s love for them grew as did her imagination. The castle has grown in her mid and now it had a market place made from white marble and houses decorated wit fine stones in colors of green, red, blue and gold. People walked, danving and laughing, all of them fine princesses and princes as they walked in their fine clothes adored with diamonds and silver, their skin decorated with metal gold. At sunset, an orchestar would position itself in one of the squares and played free, live music for the people. The food was freely given and taken and everybody shared in their art, knowledge and care. Hayley flew to that place with every waking thought in her head, living there more often then on Earth, taken there by the song of birds and warmth of the Sun.

One fine autumn day, her and her dad took to working on the bird house in their backyard.  It was a small design at first, but changed quickly enough when they saw the amount of little friends that came to watch them work and offer their joy in form of a song. Hayley’s imagination grew as they built a bird house that resembled a white castle. She took to spreading her arms and running around the backyard they had as the chirp of birds followed her, dictating her dance and imagination.

However, soon, the weather turned cold, and birds started disappearing until only what was left was two little sparrows. It broke Hayley’s heart and the knowledge that they need to leave and shall return in spring didn’t mend it one bit.
She took to looking out of her window, dreaming of Sun and warmth, her birds and flying.
The snow fell, but it brought only so much joy before she was reminded of the loss of her birds and her joy diminished.
She prayed for the return of her birds every evening since they left and one clear night, where clouds moved aside to let moon and stars shine their light, she heard their chirping once again. Overjoyed, she skipped down the stairs, run out of the door and into the snow. And there, the birds flew chirping and flying and she laughed fully for the first time in months.
She started spinning in the circle, laughing, her face alight with joy and fresh flakes of a snow illuminated by  the moon.
The chirps grew into a Symphony of unheard music until then as the girl spooned. They flew up in the air and started dancing in the circle along with her, their song filling out the nights presence. She grew out of breath and she slowed down her spinning, turning only to see a miracle before her. Birds flew to the floor and builded up on one another, their song growing louder and louder until suddenly in less then a blink od the eye they melted together until a tall pegasus, in dark grey color with rainbow shine and silver hair stood before her.
Her eyes grew wide with wonder as she stared. The pegasus threw its lovely head about,  neighting softly. It struggled the ground with one hoof before walking slowly and turning.
Two little sparrows that have stayed were the only witnesses to the last sight of the little girl climbing onto pegasus back before they took to sky. No other witness have been present to see miracles of the clear winter night.

The Earth was left behind as they climbed through time and space into the new world of her imagination, created solely by her belief and thoughts, as if a song that took a solid form.


(To be continued…)



Hope you enjoyed this,

Best of love




In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Always Something There to Remind Me.”


{Music. Maitre Gims – Bella}

He sees her across the lavish restaurant. The music is live and guitar can be heard clearly amongst the other instruments and singing voices. Her skin is glowing under the lights, her hair waves of chocolate and her eyes big and light, enchanting when they meet his across the room.


She moves like she is made of air and water, all smooth moves and light steps, graceful in her approach. His heart stutters when she smiles, enchanting him even more.


He doesn’t remember how they meet, so pulled in her green eyes with speckles of gold he was. He doesn’t remember what he said, only her laugh, loud and honest. It sounds even sweeter later, when she laughs low against his ear as he holds her.


He knew that they are dancing in the moments that come. He is never more grateful for having learned all the dances as the stumbling, young boy. Now, he is grateful he is no longer clumsy, so that he may follow this beauty with a grace of a swan across the dance room and reflecting lights.


She was truly beautiful, with her smoky eyed make-up, lips painted red, enhancing the fullness of them and the whiteness of her teeth. Her hair done in perfect curls as they tumbled down her open back and mocca-colored skin sprinkled lightly with a perfume he came to associate with her.


He thinks he loved her at the sight. He thinks it is possible. Even before he knew her little quirks and secrets. Even before he knew that she only loved apple pie as a dessert and refused any other sweets. That she loved spicy food and enjoyed the various cultures. That she loved to travel in a summer, but in winter liked to stay curled in her home. That she had six different laughs and he was still counting. Before he knew how beautiful she looked after taking the shower, all clean and fresh, natural in her grace and bare as she laid before him.


He loved her since the first time he seen her and he never forgets how fitting the music accompanying their first gaze was.


He thinks how lucky he is that she accepts him so, even his quiet demur where he smiles at her whenever she enters the room, but doesn’t know how to express his admiration and love so well in words as she does. But, he thinks that’s alright, because she always smiles with warmth in her eyes, making them shine when he leaves roses for her, makes her dinner or kisses her good morning. He thinks action is just as telling as words, if not more.


He thinks that she is his Bella and he is finally breathing life since he met her.

It was just too sweet not to write though since I didn’t have a radio nor my set of headphones with me, I had to relay on my playlist on my phone and shuffle it. This came up and immediately the idea formed. Hope you like it.

Song is Maitre Gims – Bella if you missed the link at the beginning.




A reminder of what we have

{Music. Ludovico Einaudi – Walk}

Air and water,

Fire and earth

Did you know that at the start of alchemy and thoughts about what the earth was made of, they thought that every element was made by the four of those. Each object was made of different combinations of four main, basic elements. Today, we know that every object is made of thousands elements and thus, the endless possibilities in our minds expanded to never-ending.

Gold and silver,

Diamonds and metals

So many elements there are, so many things that once you pay attention, you find magical and mystical in its appearance and its existence.

Mud – created from water and earth. Full of potential to help and heal.

Dust – air and earth in its beauty dances under the reflector of sun light, carrying secrets we have yet to interpret and understand.

Fog – fire and water, hiding and finding things, making everything look like the time of witching hour.

Molten lava – earth and fire, making fiery accessories across the surface of the Earth, slow and relentless, it shows how some things may come slow, but they will come, steadily and surely just like anything you do.

Stranger things did happen when air and fire collided, the power it could cause, so simple and light separated, they became a force to reckon once united.

Isn’t life beautiful in it never-ending circle or growth, creation, living and then gracefully dieing before being reborn in a new shape and joy? Sounds kinda romantic for just basic every day things, but I thinks that where the secret of life actually is. In finding the beauty over and over again in things you thought you see every day, but are different with every second.

Thoughts and free time can do wonders for your blog, you know. Just a little bit of something for all of you lovelies out there, finding time to click on this post.



Lucy Bear

Lucy Bear came as a complete surprise in my head, but a most welcomed one. I wished to write something else entirely, but it seems my love for magic and dreams and maybe a bit of Alice in Wonderland, decided to create this instead. I believe magic exists in some form because life can truly be magical. And sometimes, I think that many of us forget that too soon. So, I hope you like this little beauty and enjoy her adventure.


{Music. Magic}

Lucy Bear was an unusual girl. Her imagination could take her anywhere and she drew it up on any free, blank paper she could find. One day she woke up mysteriously early and bounded downstairs to get some warm milk with honey as the sun lazily peaked out through the hill.

Her dad was standing in the kitchen, in a pristine suit with warm eyes and a smile as he looked up at her.

“Lucy Bear!”, he greeted.

“Good morning, Daddy!”, Lucy replied and went for her morning hug which she didn’t get a lot. Mr. Charlie would usually already be at work by the time sleep left her eyes.

“I got you something, Lucy Bear.”, Mr. Charlie says and pulls out a pale, blue covered book in hard print. “Here you go, Lucy Bear, for your drawing.”, he says presenting to her a brand new sketchbook and a row of markers.

Lucy squealed in delight and happily took it, giving a big kiss to her dad.

“You are the best dad at this whole world!”

Her dad than left with a smile, disappearing in a sunshine ray through the closing door.

Lucy bounded upstairs, back to her room and looked around, looking at what she is to draw first.

Her eyes settled on a white, fluffy teddy bear that she got since she was little on one White Christmas.


Mr. Winkles, was his name and his fur was the softest there is. He sat proudly atop of her white dresser, standing out amongst other dolls and toys.

Lucy Bear sat down on the edge of the bed and cracked open her sketchbook and markers.

She drew out an outline of her bear and then started coloring with delight, colors merging and flowing out like watercolors making Lucy Bear gasp in delight. She now thought that her dad truly is the best there is in the world for this markers were the best in the whole world. How lucky she was.

She carefully colored Mr. Winkles blue bow and the inside of his ears in light pink color.

She glanced up, unsure if Mr. WInkles eyes were brown or black, only to find Mr. Winkles looking at her with alive, deep amber eyes. Lucy Bear’s eyes widen at the sight, looking at Mr. Winkles who now sat straighter and more natural, like she would if she was as small as him and on top of the dresser.

“Mr. Winkles!”, Lucy Bear examines. “You are alive!”

Mr. Winkles smiles and hops on his fluffy feet.

“Why didn’t you say so, Mr. Winkles? And here I thought you were only a stuffed bear! But, you aren’t, are you? Just think how much fun we could have had Mr. Winkles if only you said something earlier!”, Lucy Bear says with wide eyes.

Mr. Winkles walked over to the small board that was on the dresser and propped up against the wall and took up a marker for it. Than, he started to write carefully.

Dear Lucy,

It is good to finally meet you.

Thank you

Lucy Bear walks over to her dresser and looks at Mr. Wrinkles than at the message.

“It is good to finally meet you, as well, Mr. Winkles.”, She says and carefully pets him on the head.

If possible the fur seemed even softer.

“What is thank you for?”, Lucy Bear asks and Mr. Winkles takes to a pen once again, writing below the first set of words.

For being my friend

This made Lucy Bear’s heart melt and the bear and her gazed at each other for a moment before pulling each other in the hug.

“Oh, Mr. Winkles. I shall always be your friend as you are mine.”, Lucy Bear whispers.

They stay like that – a girl with curly, golden hair and her white bear holding one another with bird’s song in their ears, a feel of each other and a rustle of clean, white curtains fluttering in the wind combined in a most peaceful moment they both have felt in their short lives.

They pull apart and Lucy Bear says.

“Now, Mr. Winkles. It absolutely important that we have some fun.”

Mr. Winkles smiles, pulls at her finger and hops of the dresser as Lucy Bear curiously watches him. He runs for the door and disappears behind them. Lucy Bear’s grabs her sketchbook and markers, heading after him. Mr. Winkles leads them down the stairs and through the back doors out in the garden filled with warmth and smell of spring. They pass by the drying clothes that leaves of a scent of freshness in the air and stop before a bush of roses.


Mr. Winkles sat down and pats the seat besides him. Lucy Bear obediently sits down, arranging her skirts until they are to her liking and propping her sketchbook in her lap. She looks curiously at her bear and he taps at her sketchbook once, twice, before pointing at a rose-bush. Getting the message, Lucy Bear once again opens her sketchbook and takes a marker.

She starts outlining one of the closed rose’s along with others and then colors it, the vivid red and soft pink mixing in a fresh shade with deep green to accompany the steam. Lucy Bear looks up only to see the rose opening up in rapid movement. To her astonishment, it revealed a delicate creature as the petals parted with dew falling from their sides.

A fairy. With a glow to her and twitching wings that sparkle as they fluttered on the warm breeze. The fairy rose its tiny head and looked up at them from her fetus position. Her blood-red eyes met Lucy Bear’s and Lucy Bear wished for a fairy to be her friend. As if hearing her thought the fairy’s wings snapped, once, twice and she rose in the air, more of a sparkle of light than anything else.

She flew to them and landed in Lucy Bear’s outstretched palm.

She was beautiful.

Than, to Lucy Bear’s happiness, other roses started to open up, revealing fairie’s companions. They started to flutter about them and Lucy Bear jumped to her feet, spinning in the circle as the fairies danced in the air around her. Laughter spilled from Lucy Bear’s lips and soon even Mr. Winkles was dancing in the air, fairies pulling him about and twirling him around. Lucy Bear bowed as Mr. Winkles was presented to her at the same level of her eyes. Mr. Winkles returned the bow with fairies help and then they were all dancing the valcer around the garden and Lucy Bear felt as she was floating too even though she was the only one with her feet on the ground.

As their dance came to the end, they once again all bowed to each other and Mr. Winkles was sat to the ground.

Then Mr. Winkles showed them the way to the big, old oak, fairies fluttering about, and pointed at the tree than at her sketchbook. All excited, Lucy Bear took to drawing once again.

Outlines. Colors. Magic.


And the leaves in the old oak seemingly shivered before tiny, lime green lights floated from them. The lights rose, as many as there are leaves on the oak and swirled around Lucy Bear, making her twirl. When she rightened herself once again, she saw the whole tree enfolded in lines of golden light that crisscrossed and zigzagged around, but still in perfect harmony.

“What is that, Mr. Winkles? Little fairies?”, Lucy Bear asks curious.

Mr. Winkles looks at the fairies knowingly and waits. The fairies gather closer and Lucy Bear can hear their tiny voices, chiming like little bells. Together they whispered.

Energy, energy…

“Energy? My! Why, that means everything is alive than!”, Lucy Bear says.

Yes, yes…

Fairies confirm.

Lucy Bear continues to draw and soon there are small birds chirping from her shoulders and Mr. Winkles head, butterflies that grew before her eyes and with a flicker of wings multiplied, lights that were now in every color imaginable. When she drew water from a nearby puddle in the pot, little beings made from water shot up, dancing around on air as if it was the most easy thing there is. Stones started to move, playing chase with fairies and the nature breathed with new shine.


Lucy Bear drew, drew and drew, colors mingling in patterns of beauty and light.

Leaves and petals took their positions besides fairies and lights and everybody danced with the music of birds and chimes of fairies and breeze of the wind.

Lucy Bear remembered laughing and dancing, looking at the miracle before her with sky in the background and nature in the air.

“Lucy Bear! Lucy Bear! Where are you?”, came a distant voice and Lucy Bear opened her eyes. She was laying on the warm grass, her curls around her face. She propped herself up and looked about. Mr. Winkles was lying a feet away, once again still like an ordinary bear. But, Lucy Bear knew better. The colors seemed less bright now and none of her new friends were around, but Lucy Bear wasn’t afraid. She knew exactly the truth now. Everything is possible.

She grins, picks up Mr. Winkles and studies him. He looks back, the warm amber returned to deep brown. But, than he winked, amber flashing for a second and Lucy Bear pulls him into a hug. She grabs her sketchbook and looks in wonder at dozens of drawings, looking like photographs, painting her morning adventure. She flickers through, seeing her dance with fairies and Mr. Winkles even though she touched no marker to the page at the time and thinks magic is truly amazing.

“Oh, Mr. Winkles. How amazing this is! I must thank you so much for this adventure and hopefully many more to come.”, Lucy Bear says to Mr. WInkles, takes her sketchbook markers and walks over to her house, to her mom’s voice and radio music that drifted jazz in the air.


Lucy Bear may have not seen them, but she could feel a pairs of red eyes watching her walk away with smiles on faces and flicker of wings in the air behind soft petals, hidden away.


I hoped you like it and enjoyed yourself.

All the best and lots of love