The Ballet of Harkenloch
ACT I
The icy wind shattered the butterfly into glass and the stone wall climbed over the Giant’s heart. Moonbeams lay twisted upon the iron gate though no one spoke word whilst the fairies danced among the elves of Harkenloch
ACT II Blankets of snow crept slowly toward the black light sky Unbeknownst to the sleeping village magic arose from the circle of fire. Mischief sparkles white and the Giant begun to weep great crystal drops whilst the fairies danced and the elves of Harkenloch played old man’s cross.
ACT III The roses pinned beneath midwinter’s dream sadly mourned the song. The shadow of dawn fell across dying embers of coal.
and the Giant froze in his place whilst the fairies fluttered away and the elves of Harkenloch burrowed in mossy trunks.
Written by Alicia Frank Haviland copyright 2012 |
 Alicia Frank Haviland was a bit tomboyish in her youth, being the oldest girl in a family of three boys and a much younger sister. She is a wiz with the magic box, aka computer. She admits to having “blonde” moments in life, but her IQ is higher than most (even her husband), so don’t test her! A graphic designer of the highest caliber, she’s a cracker-jack (But don't look for a prize inside!) copy editor, who likes to use lots of commas, especially when going over her husband, Cowboy Joe’s rough drafts. She loves to travel, especially where it’s hot and Spanish is spoken. She reads books at 90 mph. She loves Lucy (Ball) and just might try being a stand-up comedienne herself some day, but not now; she’s too busy with other things. A poetress with piercing blue eyes, she radiates an angelic transformative glow wherever she goes in the world. She’s the brains (and designer) behind Southwestales and she's quick to remind her husband, Joe, of this fact, even though he gets ample credit as the fast-typing writer, recording their adventures! Quite simply, without her, there'd be no Southwestales.
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