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Cassiopeia

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Alice Through The Wormhole Poetry Contest
Sponsor Tom Woody  7/31/25                                     
 
Just like her favorite character Alice, she wears a light blue dress and a pinafore, she pairs it up with white tights and black Mary Jane shoes. A black ribbon pulls hair tight, she adds something else, around her neck a skeleton key adorns. It was her grandfather’s, an amiable, pleasant friendly and best of all, fanciful storyteller. On her way she goes. She sings the poet’s song from her favorite tale grandad taught her from his fairytale collection of “a keyhole that holds heaven on the other side of its door.” A calling melody without lyrics! Melodic phrases responding to another. How is it that a poet and a blank page make melodies? She hums along. A young girl named Cassy sits curiously by a riverbank, twirling her long tresses as she peeks into reflecting waters, she fiddles with the key. It falls into the river, and she jumps in after it. An endless swim, she lifts her head. At first blurry swishes of gardens and trees are all she sees. Images clear, and in the midst of a meadow, a peculiar door painted turquoise, her favorite color, a tangerine tree makes buzzing sounds, a prickly cactus sways upon a small chair in a holey vase, orangey dahlias appear to be smiling. Cassy in awe, hears the chirping of birds, then swims further searching on the river bottom. Waterdrops drip off her face as she takes a breath, once again the eye-catching door stands. She reaches out for a key peeking out of the nonsensical vase. Through the door, she clenches the key in one hand, wrens are singing their bird song, in harmony to the tune of the poet’s song—beckoning. Elongated figures clear, all else disappear, a celestial body is in the shadows, around her stars of sterling silver. The other side of the world is shimmering! She must be in heaven, thoughts of grandfather comfort. Baptism took place Alice through a o r m makes~ w h e l o a grandfather’s grace No route in sight! Her voice amplifies, her breath is visible through a filigree of frost. Gold and liquid silver paths curl with any motion. And without a rose compass or a sense of direction, nulled is North, the turquoise door dissipates. Cassy calls out into the swirling cat’s cradle wishing herself onto the path that leads back to the riverbank. A voice mimics her, echoing through dark matter, this way Cassiopeia. Befuddled over a voice not hers, she reaches out and lava-lamp like streams behold, bolus bulbs capsuled in rich colors with incandescent light streaking through, a happy place she thought. It was her grandfather’s voice, only he called her Cassiopeia. Inspired by the constellation of stars with the same name, he’d kid around— a game, she is a star of the constellation, muddled through white whiskers, you’ll see its distinctive 'W' shape, formed by five bright stars. Cassiopeia is in the northern sky. When Cassiopeia follows a luminated path, he went on, the path only warms and as she rises through the cluster it cools in downward spiral, a shortcut through spacetime, easily recognizable for its distinctive 'W' shape and Cassiopeia will hover over what she loved most, the Rhine River that flows and glows from the brilliant moonlamp. Cassy follows the luminated path, it is warm and then cools through mineral and carbon. By the riverbank not far, she dwells where all is well, grandfather’s bright star. * * * * under moonlamps glow * * * * *Rhine River’s flow, starry lights ~ *Cassiopeia*

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Date: 8/2/2025 7:29:00 AM
Dear Anaya, I was captivated by the free, fearless and youthful spirit of your adventurous fantasy poem. Beautiful and creative imagery dress your endearing prose. Your poem is also a lovely tribute to the love Cassy has for her grandfather. Your haibun is full of intriguing details as she finds and follows the light and your haiku punctuates your prose wonderfully. A splendid piece! Warmest wishes and cheers, my dear poet friend.. ~Susan
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Date: 8/1/2025 10:37:00 AM
Dear Anaya, There’s so much warmth and love in how you honor your grandfather’s storytelling spirit and it feels like the melody he taught is alive, flowing through Cassy’s adventure and beyond. The way Cassiopeia guides her what a beautiful metaphor for finding light and direction even when the path seems uncertain. Blessings, My Dear Anaya, Daniel
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I Am Anaya
Date: 8/1/2025 7:12:00 PM
Cassy's grandfather is a real life character for my sy-fy fantasy a real joy to make them come alive! TyVm Daniel for a kind review. You have made my day! August blessings__Anaya
Date: 8/1/2025 10:23:00 AM
Anaya, everything builds in your fantastic poem to a gratifying climax: beautiful lines that entice you in, thrilling action that keeps you hooked, fantastical elements that amuse you. Best wishes for the contest
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I Am Anaya
Date: 8/1/2025 7:08:00 PM
Everyone loves Alice, and something I had in mind for it came to life, what a joy. TyVm Sotto Poet! Your comment has made my day :)__Anaya
Date: 7/31/2025 8:00:00 PM
I'm impressed with your creativity & imagination; was thoroughly entertained by lines far from amateurish. Polished lines draw one in, riveting action holds attention, fantasy delights & all leads to a satisfying conclusion. Because I love you, I share one minor thing: tweak grammar-wise, i.e., 'turquoise her favorite color', needs a comma as does 1st line for 'Alice.' I've read the sponsor, and he excels at grammar in all the right places; I want you to win, this deserves such. A fan, CayCay
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I Am Anaya
Date: 7/31/2025 8:09:00 PM
Oh my word, coming from you CayCay it warms my heart, you are heaven sent, and I'll tell you why--I read your "I Am Sorry" and I got right on to faving this treasure, and all along thinking how I was going to honor your wordsmiths skills. A coincidence? Perhaps not, it's an honor either way! TyVm, any other faults, I'll credit it to poetic license. LOl. Xhugs to you!__Anaya

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