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The Selkie's Song|Enchanted Fairytale Dreams



Come, Gentle Night | Romeo & Juliet [2013] | Abel Korzeniowski


Come, gentle night. Come, loving, black-browed night.
Give me my Romeo. And when I shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
 Romeo And Juliet, by William Shakespeare.

(Source: faeryhearts)

(Source: faeryhearts)

Eros, the fairest of the deathless gods;he unstrings the limbs and subdues both mindand sensible thought in the breasts of all gods and all men.― Theogony, by Hesiod, c. 8th century BC.Artwork: Eros, by Forest Rogers.

Eros, the fairest of the deathless gods;
he unstrings the limbs and subdues both mind
and sensible thought in the breasts of all gods and all men.
― Theogony, by Hesiod, c. 8th century BC.

Artwork: Eros, by Forest Rogers.

(Source: faeryhearts)

O’ peppermint cocoa —two delights per sip:as steamy hot as passion,cool as a wintry lake dip. — Astrid Alauda.

O’ peppermint cocoa —
two delights per sip:
as steamy hot as passion,
cool as a wintry lake dip. 
— Astrid Alauda.

(Source: faeryhearts)

Oh, sailor boy, sail to me —Sing of the Sirens’ charms.Though dark the stormAnd wild the sea,Sail to my waiting arms.Oh, sailor boy, hear the skySing the mermaid’s lullaby.Though tempest blowsAnd salt spray fly,Sail to me by and by.Oh, sailor boy, be my love.Sing of my lips so fair.Though death comes nearAnd calls your name,Sail for the love we share.— Sail To Me, by Poppy Stewart.[Artwork: Mermaid’s Longing, by Unknown.]

Oh, sailor boy, sail to me —
Sing of the Sirens’ charms.
Though dark the storm
And wild the sea,
Sail to my waiting arms.

Oh, sailor boy, hear the sky
Sing the mermaid’s lullaby.
Though tempest blows
And salt spray fly,
Sail to me by and by.

Oh, sailor boy, be my love.
Sing of my lips so fair.
Though death comes near
And calls your name,
Sail for the love we share.
— Sail To Me, by Poppy Stewart.




[Artwork: Mermaid’s Longing, by Unknown.]

(Source: faeryhearts)

His charmwill disarm,his smilein style,his fashionin passion,his words,his flirt,his tiefrom his shirt,to my wrists,his kiss,his kiss,his kiss!— A Well-Dressed Man, by Lang Leav.[Artwork by Norbert Goeneutte French.]

His charm
will disarm,
his smile
in style,
his fashion
in passion,
his words,
his flirt,
his tie
from his shirt,
to my wrists,
his kiss,
his kiss,
his kiss!
— A Well-Dressed Man, by Lang Leav.




[Artwork by Norbert Goeneutte French.]

(Source: faeryhearts)

I could start fires with what I feel for you.— I Could Start Fires, by David Ramirez.

I could start fires with what I feel for you.
— I Could Start Fires, by David Ramirez.

(Source: faeryhearts)

(Source: queengilbert)

Yesterday, this faery told me she was a slight madness engendered by eating too much bacon… but I don’t believe everything a faery says. Today, she states that she is the one who maintains correct levels of iron in the blood. Her work is in the liver, recycling iron. If this faery becomes vague and inattentive, anemia can result.In this faery form, we see female energy moving into balance with the male. Iron* represents stasis; it is inflexible and masculine. The intransigence of iron is transformed, when it rusts, by the feminine aspects of water and oxygen, the very essence of life. Rust, then, is formed of the cold reason of iron transformed into red oxide; the colour represents passion, life renewal, and the blood of the earth. Shamans used body paint made of red oxide in many mystical rites, and in the ancient world it was used for ritual decoration of corpses and bones. Water of a rusty colour was deemed to have magical properties — such as the famous healing waters of Holy Chalice Well in Glastonbury, England.This rusty faery interacts with us on many different levels, concerned particularly with bodily health, decay, and regeneration. But you might know her best in one of her more annoying guises: as the cause of that first rust spot on a shiny new chrome surface.* A note on rust: Faeries have their origin in the pretechnological past. Classical writers refer to a Silver Age, a time when Man’s mind moved more easily in intuitive and creative modes. Silver is a faery metal, influenced by the moon and Mercury, that enhances communication and connection. After the Age of Silver was the Age of Iron, which brought us reason, ambition, and warfare; thus it is no wonder that the faeries’ relationship with iron is ambivalent. Many faeries are frightened by iron — a nail or knife or open scissors are traditionally used to keep faeries away. Other faeries, the borrowing faeries, are just the opposite; they find anything iron irresistible (especially kettles and cauldrons) and delight in stealing it. Being faeries, they get overexcited and will carry off almost anything — as you discover when you try to find that whatchamacallit that was going to be so useful… and you know you put it down right here… and now it’s gone… it just walked away.Actually, it’s in a faery nest in a glittering collection of “lost” objects.— Good Faeries Bad Faeries, by Brian Froud.[Artwork: The Rust Spot Faery, by Brian Froud.]

Yesterday, this faery told me she was a slight madness engendered by eating too much bacon… but I don’t believe everything a faery says. Today, she states that she is the one who maintains correct levels of iron in the blood. Her work is in the liver, recycling iron. If this faery becomes vague and inattentive, anemia can result.

In this faery form, we see female energy moving into balance with the male. Iron* represents stasis; it is inflexible and masculine. The intransigence of iron is transformed, when it rusts, by the feminine aspects of water and oxygen, the very essence of life. Rust, then, is formed of the cold reason of iron transformed into red oxide; the colour represents passion, life renewal, and the blood of the earth. Shamans used body paint made of red oxide in many mystical rites, and in the ancient world it was used for ritual decoration of corpses and bones. Water of a rusty colour was deemed to have magical properties — such as the famous healing waters of Holy Chalice Well in Glastonbury, England.

This rusty faery interacts with us on many different levels, concerned particularly with bodily health, decay, and regeneration. But you might know her best in one of her more annoying guises: as the cause of that first rust spot on a shiny new chrome surface.




* A note on rust: Faeries have their origin in the pretechnological past. Classical writers refer to a Silver Age, a time when Man’s mind moved more easily in intuitive and creative modes. Silver is a faery metal, influenced by the moon and Mercury, that enhances communication and connection. After the Age of Silver was the Age of Iron, which brought us reason, ambition, and warfare; thus it is no wonder that the faeries’ relationship with iron is ambivalent. Many faeries are frightened by iron — a nail or knife or open scissors are traditionally used to keep faeries away. Other faeries, the borrowing faeries, are just the opposite; they find anything iron irresistible (especially kettles and cauldrons) and delight in stealing it. Being faeries, they get overexcited and will carry off almost anything — as you discover when you try to find that whatchamacallit that was going to be so useful… and you know you put it down right here… and now it’s gone… it just walked away.

Actually, it’s in a faery nest in a glittering collection of “lost” objects.
— Good Faeries Bad Faeries, by Brian Froud.




[Artwork: The Rust Spot Faery, by Brian Froud.]

(Source: faeryhearts)

Passion spins around love and I am dizzy around you — always.— Terri Guillemets.

Passion spins around love and I am dizzy around you — always.
— Terri Guillemets.

(Source: faeryhearts)

A good love is one that casts you into the wind, sets you ablaze, makes you burn through the skies and ignite the night like a phoenix; the kind that cuts you loose like a wildfire and you can’t stop running simply because you keep on burning everything that you touch!— C. JoyBell C.Artwork: Firebird, by Ahyicodae.

A good love is one that casts you into the wind, sets you ablaze, makes you burn through the skies and ignite the night like a phoenix; the kind that cuts you loose like a wildfire and you can’t stop running simply because you keep on burning everything that you touch!
C. JoyBell C.

Artwork: Firebird, by Ahyicodae.

(Source: faeryhearts)

The unicorn has come out of the ForestTo graze the lush grass in the heat of the Sun.All unaware of Passions arousing,Oblivious to danger, in fear of no one.— Allegories, by Francis Lucien.Photography by Robert Vavra.

The unicorn has come out of the Forest
To graze the lush grass in the heat of the Sun.
All unaware of Passions arousing,
Oblivious to danger, in fear of no one.
— Allegories, by Francis Lucien.

Photography by Robert Vavra.

(Source: faeryhearts)

I feel your heartbeatPass between your lips and mineWhile they linger, still.— Tyler Knott Gregson.

I feel your heartbeat
Pass between your lips and mine
While they linger, still.
Tyler Knott Gregson.

(Source: faeryhearts)

When I turn around, he cups my face in his hands and he kisses me so deeply that I don’t know who is breathing for who, but his mouth and tongue taste like warm honey. I don’t know how long it lasts, but when I let go of him, I miss it already.— On The Jellicoe Road, by Melinda Marchetta.

When I turn around, he cups my face in his hands and he kisses me so deeply that I don’t know who is breathing for who, but his mouth and tongue taste like warm honey. I don’t know how long it lasts, but when I let go of him, I miss it already.
— On The Jellicoe Road, by Melinda Marchetta.

When you meet someone so different from yourself, in a good way, you don’t even have to kiss to have fireworks go off. It’s like fireworks in your heart all the time.— I Heart You - You Haunt Me, by Lisa Schroeder.

When you meet someone so different from yourself, in a good way, you don’t even have to kiss to have fireworks go off. It’s like fireworks in your heart all the time.
— I Heart You - You Haunt Me, by Lisa Schroeder.

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