Redsonga
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Feb 7, 2008
- Messages
- 4,167
- Reaction score
- 82
The grass-lined valley surrounding the Grogs garden was draped in all the finery of a wild wheat field in mid-June.
The tall grass whipped in a slight breeze to the background melody from sleepy grasshoppers in the unsure hour between the night and the coming morning.
Though this scene, with only the golden grass and white downy heads of thistles, turned a bluest tint in the moonlight, as a guide , Mokey walked slowly to her favorite place in the world.
As she walked, feeling the cool dew brush against her bare feet, her progress awoke what looked like grumpy ladybugs.
Annoyed at the fraggles lack of noticing them, the group of bugs began to follow, thumping their tiny bodies against the ground to fill in the beats between the grasshoppers chirping.
Mokey fingered the soda tab on her necklace thoughtfully, watching its silver gilt catch the dim light as she began to sing softly.
Sometimes I'm alone, sitting on my very own
Trying to find a simple kind of clue
She spun slowly around in a circle , upsetting the ladybugs, who scattered to not be stepped on.
And I would like to know, why the world moves me so
When it's only doing the things it will always do?
Moths took flight in the background, dotting the sky line like tiny white winged shadows among the fainting stars.
Why do caterpillars crawl?
Why is there a sky?
Why is there a world at all?
And why do I ask why?
Mokey looked down sadly as one of the moths landed on her shoulder, tilting it's head as if listening carefully.
Here I go again, why do questions never end?
What keeps calling all day long to me?
She glanced to the side and smiled slightly, singing as the moth flexed it wings in the crisp air.
Secrets come and go, I know I can't be the only one...
The moth flew off again, leaving the lone fraggle to sit down alone in a mossy sheltered spot.
Sometimes magic, sometimes only me...
Mokey slowly raised her arm up toward the sky, now starting to become edged with the orange glow of morning.
Why do caterpillars crawl?
She carefully rimmed the distant image of still bright crescent moon with her fingers...
Why is there a sky?
Why is there a world at all?
..and let her hand fall back to her lap with a sigh, bowing her head and closing her eyes in frustration.
And why... do I ask... why?
The tall grass whipped in a slight breeze to the background melody from sleepy grasshoppers in the unsure hour between the night and the coming morning.
Though this scene, with only the golden grass and white downy heads of thistles, turned a bluest tint in the moonlight, as a guide , Mokey walked slowly to her favorite place in the world.
As she walked, feeling the cool dew brush against her bare feet, her progress awoke what looked like grumpy ladybugs.
Annoyed at the fraggles lack of noticing them, the group of bugs began to follow, thumping their tiny bodies against the ground to fill in the beats between the grasshoppers chirping.
Mokey fingered the soda tab on her necklace thoughtfully, watching its silver gilt catch the dim light as she began to sing softly.
Sometimes I'm alone, sitting on my very own
Trying to find a simple kind of clue
She spun slowly around in a circle , upsetting the ladybugs, who scattered to not be stepped on.
And I would like to know, why the world moves me so
When it's only doing the things it will always do?
Moths took flight in the background, dotting the sky line like tiny white winged shadows among the fainting stars.
Why do caterpillars crawl?
Why is there a sky?
Why is there a world at all?
And why do I ask why?
Mokey looked down sadly as one of the moths landed on her shoulder, tilting it's head as if listening carefully.
Here I go again, why do questions never end?
What keeps calling all day long to me?
She glanced to the side and smiled slightly, singing as the moth flexed it wings in the crisp air.
Secrets come and go, I know I can't be the only one...
The moth flew off again, leaving the lone fraggle to sit down alone in a mossy sheltered spot.
Sometimes magic, sometimes only me...
Mokey slowly raised her arm up toward the sky, now starting to become edged with the orange glow of morning.
Why do caterpillars crawl?
She carefully rimmed the distant image of still bright crescent moon with her fingers...
Why is there a sky?
Why is there a world at all?
..and let her hand fall back to her lap with a sigh, bowing her head and closing her eyes in frustration.
And why... do I ask... why?