Tag Archives: daisy

Rebirth: Spring Symphony

A Spring tale of rebirth for J.A.Mes Press Rebirth Anthology. All proceeds will go to a UK Stroke Charity.

Spring Symphony

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Spring Symphony © Lisa Shambrook

Spring shivered in delight as Jack’s intoxicating cloud of glitter eddied about her. She stared in awe at his ethereal design, an ice tattoo, shimmering like frozen lace across her scales. “Stay a little longer…” she begged, her work forgotten as she trembled beneath the newly painted webs of frost and feathers of rime that now patterned her violet wings. The cold wind whispered in her ear, but she snubbed the wind’s wise words, snorted and called after the playful pixie instead, “Wait! Wait for me!”

Jack grinned and ran his fingers through his silver hair, eyeing the dragon with amusement. He hopped up onto her back, over her spines and nestled between her vast wings. She launched into the air leaving a sparkling trail in her wake. She rose above shimmering trees, above the deep evergreens and ascended into fluffy clouds. She climbed until the air sent thrilling chills across her hide and her eyes shone as adrenalin pumped. Jack whooped and wrapped his arms around her neck and frost danced across her rainbow scales. For the first time in a long time, Spring felt more invigorated than ever before.

 

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This is a preview to the story that can be found within A Symphony of Dragons. It has become one part of my symphony, a composition, of A Symphony of Seasons… You can find this enchanting book of short stories in many outlets in both paperback and eBook or at my publisher BHC Press.

Read previews to Autumn’s and Winter’s tales: Autumn Flame and Winter Hope.

Five Sentence Fiction: Medicine

“It’s bad…” the Sage grimaced, his brow creasing and his head slowly shaking, “I’m losing her.”
He glanced down at her pale features; her forehead was dusted with perspiration glittering in the moonlight and her hands lay limp on the cotton coverlet, and he pre-empted the question with a prolonged sigh, “There is something, it’s a long shot, might not even work…but,” he gestured vaguely beyond the window, “up there, high on the peak, is the montis bellis perennis…the mountain daisy…” his voice trailed and disappeared along with the lad’s hopes. 
But, within moments, the lad had vanished out into the shadowy night, trekking far across muddy fields, weaving through distant forest, cutting a path through murky swamps and climbing through ominous veils of meandering mists up, up and up…fingers blistering as he grasped splintering rock and eyes smarting from the violent, howling winds. 
Nights passed, days passed, and her fading breath passed weakly through her dry and chapped lips; then the lad crashed through the door, disturbing the Sage and the peace, clutching a daisy, a single daisy, petals lost, petals crumpled and petals sticking to his exhausted fingers…he dropped the crushed and broken daisy into the mystic’s open hands. “Use the flower and heal her!” he demanded through his haze of delirium, “Heal her!”
“I can’t,” said the Sage, “there’s nothing left of the flower, nothing…” he watched the weary lad fall to the floor and stroked the remains of the daisy across her ashen face; she stirred, just a tiny movement, but enough, “I can’t heal her, nor can the daisy, but you have…it’s not the daisy, but the journey you were willing to make, your faith and love have healed her…see her eyes flutter open…for you, for love…”

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook