Wizard of Oz draft begining! preview

The Wizard of Oz.

Chapter 1.  Cyclone

Uncle Henry had only chosen to be a farmer through respect for his granpa, it was a good old fashioned Kansas family farm.  Young Henry had had dreams of travelling and seeing the world beyond the Kansas border but hard times kept him in his place.  It hadn’t always been so difficult, the locals would buy the farm produce and Henry could provide for his beautiful young wife Emily.  Emily, however, was no dreamer, in her younger years she sold knitted garments and fixed up old clothes for the Kansas folk.  She had her own small store in the centre and made enough to be content, back then there was a sense of community and the busy market town serviced the residents well.  It was once big stores moved into town the farm produces didn’t sell much, with prices being competitive.  Emily had to sell the store one month just to keep Herself and Henry in food and fuel for the long winter ahead.

This was what they told Dorothy when she complained about living and working at the farm, how the farm was all they had and how as long as they had a warm fire, food to eat and family they had more the most in these hard days. This day it followed Dorothy’s complaining about having to visit their neighbour with a delivery of her regular farm produce.

‘I’ll go but the skies look muddy and I be washed away in a flash flood’ Dorothy sassed, this was her typical quip, she was of that age now.

It was true, however, the skies were darkening and extreme weathers where not unusual for Kansas.  Henry didn’t like having Dorothy go off on her own when the weather was in such a bad mood.  Winds were howling around the small farm house and beating at the window shutters.  She only had a mile and a half to ride her bike to the neighbours and she needed to learn responsibility, Emily was more stern with Dorothy then Henry.

‘Aunt Em I’m taking Toto, because once I’m swept away I’ll need someone to keep me company, plus he’s the only thing that keeps Mrs Kiffin far enough for me not to smell her breathe’, the giggles burst from Dorothy’s mouth, they only become louder when Aunt Em’s face went bright red with anger.  ‘One of these Days Dorothy Gale you’ll learn to respect your elders and realise just how important some people are in keeping this family fed and warm’ before Aunt Em could begin the lecture Dorothy scooped Toto up into the basket of farm goodies, carelessly for it was not any concern to Dorothy if any of the goods were damaged, just as long as she delivered to Mrs Kiffin.

Toto was Dorothy’s best friend, some would think this a sad affair, but Dorothy was glad to have a dog as her best friend, the scruffy Scottish terrier was handsome and cheeky and was most loyal to Dorothy.  Once Dorothy had been on egg collecting duties at the farm one early morning, dozy and still dreaming Dorothy walked straight into the coop without noticing the rusty red fox surrounded by feathers.  Red foxes aren’t as big as coyotes but are bigger then swift foxes and are certainly bigger the Toto.  The fox stalked Dorothy into the coop, Dorothy was only made aware of the fox when Toto had it pinned in the corner, both animals growling.  Her heart sank but luckily Toto won the show strength and the fox escaped with a bite and unfortunately for the farm a belly full of chicken.  Once Uncle Henry had heard of the fox Toto was a hero in the house for the whole week,  Aunty Em however ended the show of gratitude, he’s a dog that’s just his job, she had exclaimed.

What girl could ask for any better a best friend? Although the girls at her Kansas school wouldn’t give Dorothy a choice of best friends, they found her story telling and her dreamy behaviour too strange to invite her to play.  Story telling was Dorothy’s way of entertainment, transforming the humble dry prairies of Kansas into empires and turning the locals into heroes and villains.  However these stories detached her from reality and would constantly annoy Aunt Em, Uncle Henry however admired her for being head strong and saw his own youth in her eyes.  ‘let the girl dream Em, it won’t be long ‘til she is grown up, married and watching her dreams fly away into the winds’,‘Married!! I don’t think so, never’, marriage was definitely not one of those stories Dorothy invented for herself.

The winds played havoc with Dorothy’s bike and every howl got a howl from Toto in response, which made her giggle and eased her worries about getting to Mrs Kiffins house and back to the farm without being blown into a ditch or getting caught in the rain.  This was a regular journey for Dorothy and she had managed to get the time it took to travel down to about 30 minutes, that was allowing a few stops to admire a bird or stop and feed some local horses.  What worried Dorothy more was the weather turning and having to stop at Mrs Kiffin’s for safety, Kansas winds can develop into cyclones easily, something Kansas is known for all to well.

It wasn’t that Mrs Kiffin was a horrible woman, in fact she chose to buy her produce from Uncle Henry because she knew it was important income for the Gale family and she was set in her old ways.  However she detested Toto, mainly because of her cat, Samson who seemed to be afraid of everything, but Toto did enjoy chasing him around the garden.  Dorothy also hated how she called her Dotty and always tried to kiss her on the head before she departed.

The murky skies took a turn for the worse and began to spit rain at Dorothy, riding through the vast flat farm lands without a person, or even animal, in sight gave Dorothy the overwhelming sense of loneliness, and for once the familiar land look foreign and she felt a little lost.  Luckily Mrs Kiffin’s house was just on the horizon. The first thing to greet her was the sound of the house fighting back against the persistent winds. The wood creaked and twisted painfully and the window shutters slapped back and forth, in her imagination Dorothy saw the house and a screaming witch, she smiled at the idea of the roof as a pointed hat and the and the swaying trees as wild dark hair. ‘Dotty get in the house before your blown over you silly little girl’, Mrs Kiffin’s scolding screech brought Dorothy back to earth.  She hadn’t noticed just how wet she had gotten until she was wrapped in a towel and stood by Mrs Kiffin’s roaring wood fire.

‘Dotty dear I have put the money for my goods in the basket, but I can’t let you go home in this weather,  I’ll call Emily and let her know your staying here for the night whilst this dangerous weather passes, the skies are brewing up a cyclone’ Mrs Kiffin had already picked up the house phone and was dialling but Dorothy was too busy reading the skies for signs of a cyclone, something she found scary and exciting all at once.  So busy dreaming she hadn’t noticed that Mrs Kiffin had locked Toto out in the pouring rain, Dorothy’s heart melted at the sight of Toto sodden in the garden, so wet he looked only half his usual size.  ‘I better be off now Mrs Kiffin, thanks for the towel and the money, enjoy the eggs’, Dorothy smirked, she only half meant what  she said about the eggs, knowing how rough she was packing Toto into her basket and now hoping for a few broken eggs with how Toto was left to near drown outside.

Her departing message had gone un-noticed as Mrs Kiffin was too busy discussing the weather with aunt Em, as old lady often do, at length.  ‘Come on Toto let’s leave that mad witch to her tea and we will get home and have some warm milk in front of the fire’, he couldn’t speak words but Dorothy swore she could read Toto’s thought with the way he looked at her, his usually message was ‘I agree Dorothy’.

Try as it did the wind and rain didn’t stop Dorothy from feeling smug about getting away from Mrs Kiffin, everything was a blur as she peddled fast and hard against the strong winds, the small farm house she called home was within her vision.  Dorothy’s curious nature stopped her in her progress home as her eye was caught by a flapping small sign stapled to a near-by tree.  ‘It must be one of those missing person signs, Uncle Henry was telling us about Toto’ speaking to her canine companion like this was another reason the girls at her school made fun of Dorothy.  The soggy pup rolled his eyes, ‘let’s just get home to the fire’.  She couldn’t resist, dismounting the bike and approaching the sign she saw a somewhat handsome young man had gone missing from a nearby town.  He was handsome by all means but Dorothy’s thoughts didn’t stay with this, instead Dorothy focused on the part of the sign that said the young man was part of a circus act.  At this point a thousand different scenarios burst into her head, he ran away with the gymnast tightrope girl, he was a suicidal clown, he eaten by the fierce circus lion.  Her stories become more and more ridiculous until the wind interrupted, tearing the sign from the tree.

It was Dorothy’s dreamy personality that had gotten her into trouble yet again, distracted by her imagination she had noticed the winds pick up and the temperature change.  As she watched the sign dance aggressively into the distance, it wasn’t until it was swallowed by the gust that she realised, worse than being chased by Mrs Kiffin for her broken eggs, Dorothy was being chased by a cyclone.

Her mind was filled with fear but at the same time her heart pumped with excitement, ever the story teller Dorothy saw the potential of this dangerous character that perused her home.  Snap out of it, said Toto with his low whining.  Grabbing the dog and tucking him into the basket tight, Dorothy mounted the bicycle and peddled as hard as any young girls legs could.  The Cyclone rejoiced in her fear, whaling and whistling abuse.  In her mind she heard it telling her to run home.

Uncle Henry had the cyclone shelter doors unbolted and had already helped Aunty Em into the bunker, not without her pot of tea and a crossword.  Inside the small farm house the phone went unheard, undoubtedly Mrs Kiffin calling to tell Aunt Em that Dorothy had already departed.  Something inside Uncle Henry told him to old on, but the cyclone was growing ever closer and he was sure that any longer and  both him and Em would torn away alongside the house, he was, however, in no doubt that the quaint family farm house was a goner and had prepared for this also by packing only the essentials and everything Dorothy held dear.  This really only consisted of her small collection of clothes and a stuffed rabbit form her earlier years.

‘Uncle Henry, I’m here, wait for me’ not only did the wind steal her breathe but it also swept away her cries.  Dorothy knew it was too late, the cyclone was all but upon her, she tried the bunker doors but she knew it would be locked solid and it would take Uncle Henry too long to unlock the padlock with his frail shaky hands..  Just like all children in fear Dorothy headed for her bed, the house was her safe place, and her bed was on the ground floor.  As she lay with Toto under the covers, tears rolled down her cheeks.  ‘This is it Toto, we’ll be crushed, thank you for being such a good friend, I’m sorry you didn’t get to grow old and fat like all good dogs get to do’, this was typical of Dorothy, even in the face of her own death she thought of Toto.  He licked the tears from her chin, which tickled her, but no laughter could come out.  The cyclones winds smashed through the bedroom window and Dorothy’s scream was so loud, her head became faint and her eyes blear. The only sense that didn’t shut down was her hearing, one ear heard Toto howling his goodbyes the other heard the wood farm house break into pieces around her, or so she imagined.

Chapter 2. ‘Everything is up in the air’


The Prince Of Van’ameer

Long ago in a town quite close,

Appeared a lady like a ghost,

She wondered far from Van’ameer

A kingdom lost, and far from here.


She searched wary,fast and wild,

For in her arms she bore a child,

A Prince it seemed, as she was Queen,

But in our world this goes unseen.


She wished to save her darling son,

The brown eyed beauty, a destined one.

Her kingdom fallen now to dark,

Of evil grim, cold and stark.

She did have hope, amongst her fear,

The destined Prince of Van’ameer,

Would grow to be a saviour knight,

And to his kingdom return the light,

Banishing Darkness from all sight.


It seemed the Queen, her plan was clear,

To bring her Prince close to here,

To find a family to love and care,

As like their own they’d give and share,

And raise the Prince into a man,

Of moral, truth and all he can,

His heart so full of love and light,

Brown eyes of beauty, but now with might.


One day the Prince, he shall return,

To Van’ameer where he will learn,

Of his mother’s hope and his destiny,

And how to fulfil the prophecy.


The Prince of light returned at last,

To save his people from darkness vast,

His heart so full of love and light,

Was sure to win the final fight,

Against the evil, Dark Sorcerer,

Who brought about unjust horror,

Who had slain the King and captured his mother,

The queens heart broken, she loved no other.


The prince had won back Van’ameer,

And the people rejoiced, his name they cheer

Philippe, the Prince, lost before,

Has returned to rule with truth, once more.

The queen she cried, for she held the one

The child she lost, her darling son,

For even though she was not there,

She always loved, would always care.


The story here of Prince Philippe,

A man of beauty and heart so deep,

The savior Prince of Van’ameer,

A kingdom found, but far from here.


We disco dream through-out the night, our escapades to their delight, we feel the monsters way down deep and hide the tears we long to weep. We choose our poison to mask the pain, lager, vodka or Champaign, the music spills around our ears and soothes the wounds of our fears. we dance to find all we seek and we’ll do it all again next week!


The clothes we wear are self reflections, they help us hide our in-perfections, our illusion is our biggest feat, the ones around us take a seat.  This beauty is our sacrifice, a ravage beast to us entice,  seduce to us a potential mate and all other thought, inside, sedate.   We lose ourselves to what others think and drive ourselves to drugs and drink.

The war we fight is fought with dance,  the moves we make create romance, between ourselves and all around, the dance-floor is our battleground . This journey is just one night long, the lust we feel, for just one song, so dance and lose yourself tonight, because things will change with the morning light.

Turning Point

So dark the deceit of man that only moonlight exposes the truth,

Howling, lies leave, escape the body and tear the skin,

Pain streaks through veins, electric torture,

‘oh my what big hands’,

Claws clutch at pre-possessed possession,

All the better to steal with.

Moon beams expose the path ahead,

‘all the better to run with’

Beastly limbs run far fast from fidelity.

The night is upon us, the wise owl tweets honesty,

It falls on deaf dog ears,

‘what big ears you have’

All the better to hear secrets my child.

Wild, wilderness with wide wild eyes,

The frenzy of changes strikes, a howl

Pack society howl in return their eyes upon us all,

The teeth bite down on all that is precious,

Ripping flesh from the beautiful girl of nature,

Innocent, child, now red, garnet red, riding, hood up into darkness.

The dark deceit of man exposed by moonlight,

Beastly wolf in growth, primal and destructive,

Hidden behind human form, but preying still, on innocence.


Donned my cape once again,

Always at your side

Masked and disguised

My personality shadowed

You shine, clever, fast, handsome,

The background becomes me.


Neither of us have superpowers,

But your always super, superior.

Me, I’ll just snipe in with witty remarks

Colourful clothes, trying to stand out,

But its you they have always wanted.


Life’s a comic book and you’re the star,

Sidekick, I, wanting to do my best.

Never good enough, competing,

Always your name before mine

Never my attributes


But times change,

We grow, mature

comics don’t mean anything ,

Not anymore, not here

In reality


Don my black suit and tie

Briefcase at my side

Proud and undisguised

Shining brighter, each day

Saving lifes in an different way

My background becomes you


Poor you wasted away

Gone from my life,

No longer the name they say

Your not my hero anymore

I closed that door

You have no powers

I become the star.

Van’ameer short story

A dark energy filled the sky and lightning struck as if to prove its power. The queen, Alyse, let her crown slip, it was no time to be conscious of appearances. She knew that the black lightning that approached from the east meant only one thing.
Thunder woke the child, the first time this child had felt fear, fearlessness is a quality that favours a prince. The child’s rosewood eyes seemed to glow brighter with every roar of deafening thunder. Although startled his cry was hushed by the sudden arrival of his mother, rushed and unsettled herself, a kiss she gave to him, seemed to settle them both. All she needed was in her arms.

The mighty king Castro stood proud in the throne room, amongst him Kento, the seer, Margo the reader and Bane the protector, known in this kingdom collectively as The Three, or Trinity as his highness would address them in audience.                                   ‘Tell me what you see’, his request was both demanding and respecting, ‘I no longer see light my lord, thus I see only darkness approach’, Kento’s mouth twitched noticeable throughout his report, ‘it seems your brother has found away to harness darkness’.
Margo was mumbling under his breath, something not too uncommon as Margo was a conjuror, ‘The Reader’ was blessed with the language of the gods, able to cast spells and create potions. His mumbling, however, seemed hurried and more aggressive then usual.  Non of this seemed to register with Bane, he only thought in battle strategy and only spoke the tongue of sword play.

Alyse, child in arms, headed towards the throne room, knowing that the room was protected, impenetrable to all known magic. Thunder roared around here and ahead, a great darkness glowed from out of the throne room.
The glow lingered as she entered to find Bane frozen in stone, Margo fallen and tongue less but what shook her more so, and forced tears from her eyes and engulfed her heart with fear.
Braagon, removed the dagger from his brothers chest as the queen let out a painful scream. With the removal of the dagger a light seemed to leave the king’s body and enter Braagon.  ‘The child needs be next my lord’ hissed Kento, always on edge around the prince child himself, Kento was said to have fore seen his own death at the hands of the Prince in years to come.

With nothing but the sheer impulse to save her son, Alyse seemed to act almost as fast as the dark thunder roared and flashed, she took the dagger that had struck Bane into his petrified state, ‘would this help somehow’.                                             Heart bleeding for the loss of her husband she headed for the castle grand entrance hall, hoping some of the maids or knightsmen would be at hand to help.  Her screams for help fell on echoing halls and the once homely walls of the castle returned back to their cold stone fort like structure.  ‘where is everyone, why is the castle so abandoned’ thoughts bombarded her head but hurried her feet.  The Kings guard had not abandoned the castle but instead became part and form, like Bane they were in rock like states…..


The Witches Wood

A witches woods,

Is a woods in which,

Witches would

With magic, witch.

When witches could,

Learn spells and stitch

And would, if should

With portions mix.

This witch, that could

With spells did play

And tricked for love

On lovers day,


The young witch, which in woods lived

lived and would,magic stitch.

Trial and error, error at most

This witch had lost her teacher at post

So wonder woods this which would

And teach herself what witches could.


In time this witch could cast at ease

But at most her magic did displease

She tried to turn flower to tree

And for a week she could not see,

She tried to make her broom grow small

But now carries, with her, a magical ball.


In time the witch, got better at trade

and in the village a friend she made

but friend, she loved, had eyes for another

so Witch cast spells to make friend lover.


‘ I cast this spell to change your mind,

To overt your eyes, no longer  blind,

To make you loyal, at my side always, to make you devoted

Loved for all days.’


The spell did work and loyal they be,

But as animal form and not as thee

The spell she cast still goes unbroken

And Witch now goes spells unspoken.

So travel she with companion at side

To find a sorcerer whom could untide.

The spell that Witch had woven in past

A spell that need be uncast.