The Great Fairy Fire (199 – 200) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued)

Far, far away from the Great Bastion Mountains in an ancient Welsh village called Eons Bach, two big-cats and a devil-dog wait for Merlin to appear from the water of the Black Babble River. Somewhat confused and bewildered by events unfolding this day, they talk amongst themselves discussing what is to happen as-and-when Merlin arrives. It has been suggested that each of them will play a part in Merlin’s return. However, Anubis, the devil-dog has spent hours pondering a memory recalling a time long ago whilst roaming Underworld with a prissy cat called Bast. He remembers there being a Map – a schematic of Underworld – but is focussed on something else just out of his reach.

Meanwhile elsewhere in a secret space in a hidden place inside the Great Bastion Mountains, Merlin is drifting and dreaming in a vat of gold heading for a dream-destination only he knows. He is returning to new life in new guise and his current circumstance is concluding this process of renewal. Merlin has grown from a single atom to become a wizard with power to lead a prophecy against Morgana-Le-Faye foretelling of the reclamation and restoration of the Kingdom of Camelot.

Standing outside the golden sarcophagus in which Merlin floats, Great Heron, Halcyon the Leprechaun, and Kingfisher discuss the origins of a diamond apple-seed plucked from the throat of the breathless Leprechaun. Halcyon has recently returned from ‘repairing’ or perhaps ‘preparing’ the Wizard’s Philosopher’s Stone, but yet the object Kingfisher holds in his beak is a most curious thing…


~ The Great Fairy Fire (199) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~


Cold, but not unduly so,

Upon a Folly covered in powdered snow,

Three players from episodes ago,

Stood chilled above the river’s flow

Mid-stream of the Black Babble.


Snow Melt was at peace with the world,

Jinder Soo shivered despite her coat,

Anubis pondered golden keys: but hadn’t

Located the lock yet took stock and spoke:

“What if it broke?”


“What if the bridge doesn’t raise?”

“If the Raven’s call doesn’t work at all?”

“What then do we do this day?”

“Not a clue,” muttered Jinder Soo,

Who seemed lost in a dream.


“I can’t figure any of this out: I mean,”

“My head’s spinning with threads as it is!”

“I’ve considered the key for hours now, and yet,”

“Its importance still eludes me.”

“I recall a Map, and Bast, and Terminus, after that it all goes black.


“Terminus?” Snow Melt enquired.

“”What is that exactly,” she said.

“I’ve heard mention of it before: indeed,”

“In reference to the dead: but instead of that, tell me this,”

“What else was on the Map?”


“Nothing more,” said Anubis,

“No wait, there was an unusual mark.”

“Four circles drawn above a fifth,”

“With an extended line rising from the fourth.”

“I gave it little thought, thinking it of little worth.”


“I have sense there-in lies the key,” she said

“Answers to open mysteries.”

“How do you know that? Anubis asked curiously.

“Call it Zen if you like, or meditation. Or call it a possible solution,”

“One arrived at intuitively.”



~ The Great Fairy Fire (200) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~


“Let me look closer at that,” said Halcyon,

“I’m intrigued to know where in the flow said seed originated.”

“We all agree we’ve never seen such a thing as this.”

“I can only assume, and call me an ass, but,”

“I think its residue, pressed from the past.”


“It sounds a far-fetched idea,” Kingfisher quipped,

“Therefore one likely to be true!”

“Remnants from what exactly?” Great Heron asked.

“Of those who have passed through, been gilded and glued,”

“I can think of no apples being stewed!”


“But let me refer to The Book Of The Dead:”

“There we’ll find an entry to be read.”

Heron browsed pages of his endless tome:

At speed baffling the eye: but when then of a sudden,

He paused, let out one long sigh.


“I know from where the apple-seed came.”

“Here in black and white scribed in my tome,”

“The name of someone we’ve known:”

“One whose bones lay dusting in an ancient tomb.”

“Tis to this King our Wizard has flown.”



The Great Fairy Fire (197 – 198) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued)

Merlin has been relentlessly harried by Morgana-Le-Faye and two rogue-Fey ever-since she first became aware of the Great Wizard’s return to new life from death having escaped assassination at the hands of a Boa-constrictor snake called Fusion. She is also aware of prophecy linked to Merlin that foretells of her overthrow and restoration of the Kingdom of Camelot. Merlin has journeyed far in a process restoring him to life and currently dreams in deep sleep in a vat of gold hoping to successfully complete his return. He is secreted away in a tomb-like room somewhere in the Great Bastion Mountains surrounding Eons Bach being slowly gilded through and through.

Meanwhile Morgana-Le-Faye is in pursuit of the Wizard, en route for a destination she recalls from many years ago: of an ancient place in the Great Bastion Mountains where she believes Merlin has been taken. However, whilst flying on memory alone into thick fog at high-altitude the three pursuers thundered headfirst into the mountainside and dropped to the floor.

Morgana and her two rogue-Fey currently lay unconscious in the snow when a visitor comes by…


~The Great Fairy Fire (197) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~


Fangs distended fur extended, claws sharp and ready,

Great Wolf made steady atop a bolder,

His blood-lust rising whilst he grew bolder:

“This treat of fresh-meat must not grow older.”

He leapt clear his rock to explore much closer.


“I had thought it fresh but to my dismay,”

“This meat’s putrid with vile decay!”

“Perhaps best left where it now lays: but then again,”

“Buzzards could have a sky-burial?”

“Or maybe I’ll bury-them-all, in terrestrial.”


“No, that’d be too slow, and I no longer dig bones.”

“Right okay, burial it is, but on a snow-capped peak.”

“All that slicing and dicing, shredding and spreading: it make me sick,,”

“You see, I’m sticking to a strict diet only eating fresh meat, and,”

“Adding a little salt and pepper to tenderise-it.”


“Yes, this heap of skin and bone must go,”

“Must be left at altitude where in the snow,

“It’ll be scattered to rot and decompose,”

“Return once again into the flow,”

“Yes indeed this bad-meat must go!”


He returned to a high place but not the bolder,

Choosing instead a tree bold-over: fallen in an incline,

Which he climbed easily, swiftly, fluidly, at speed: his need,

To be rid of wretchedness in Nature’s wilderness,

Made him hasten to howl-out his message!


“Hear me! Hear me! Hear me!”

“Fly in for a rare treat!”

“Cheap meat for you all!”

“For you all! For you all!”

“Dead meat for your sky-burial!”


Barely moments later the sky was full.

Full with feathered birds heeding his call.

The Carrion Crew as he knew them all,

Birds long and short, tall and small: also fish-eaters,

Who enjoyed variety in their diet, but who,

Kept their taste for red-flesh quiet.


Three-frozen things were lifted beneath wings,

All three-carried far and away.

To a special place on a mountain peak,

Where there gathered birds-of-prey:

Paying great respect with prayers this day.


~The Great Fairy Fire (198) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~


“Kingfisher! Kingfisher! Come quickly if you please!”

“Halcyon the Leprechaun cannot breathe!”

“He’s doubled over on his knees. Please come quickly!”

“Something is lodged in his throat, but I cannot see!”

“I tried the Heimlich Manoeuvre but can’t pop it free!”


Kingfisher came flying as fast as he could go:

Quick to wake, quicker to react,

He flew like a dart to Halcyon’s side,

Tilted back his head to look inside,

Then applied his thin-beak within.


He moved faster than the blink of an eye,

Then turned to Great Heron and held up high,

“One diamond apple-seed! O my!”

“Where did that come from?” Came a weak squeaky whine.

“I’ve not been near an Adamas mine?”


The Great Fairy Fire (195 – 196) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued)

Still sleeping still dreaming still steeped within a sarcophagus of gold, Merlin flows on towards the Tailor who’ll thread light-fibres through Merlin’s core. In so doing, the Tailor will almost conclude the Wizard’s gilding experience albeit for a visit to the origin of a song humming beneath a drumming echoing in his vacuous space. In reality Merlin is not amongst the stars at all but instead is in a tomb-like room inside a sarcophagus in a secret place in a hidden space completing a process returning him to new life and new form in new guise and where, if successful he’ll lead a prophecy said to overthrow evil Queen Morgana-Le-Faye and restoring the Great Kingdom of Camelot. Morgana-Le-Faye is en route to Merlin’s location in the Great Bastion Mountains with two rogue-Fey bound for a ancient place remembered from long ago.

Assisting Merlin in final stages of his processional change are a Great Heron, a Kingfisher, and a Leprechaun with ancient ways and deep knowledge of an antiquated craft. He, the Leprechaun known as Halcyon the Aurelian took a chance by repairing Merlin’s Philosopher’s Stone whilst the Wizard dreamt as preparation for what is ahead. The Great Wizard’s once fissured crumbling Stone is now bonded with gold. Merlin has yet to understand the implications of this splendid upgrade but acknowledges an opportunity to do so when after being fitted with light-fibre he’ll explore and discover more of his new potential.

But for now Merlin continues his surreal-dream within a golden vat of gilding-brew hoping to meet with or be met by the Tailor…


~ The Great Fairy Fire (195) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~


If the Tailor were far taller rather than far smaller,

Smaller than the Leprechaun, but taller than he,

Merlin would’ve found the tiny worm-hole more easily.

As it was it was miniscule, very small indeed: indeed,

Too small to stoop into or crawl into on his knees.


He buoyed for a moment, considered his view,

Gave consideration to what best to do.

When then a most curious thing happened to him:

He became two-dimensional, in as much that,

He had no depth just length and breadth.


“Far easier to chalk-up cut-up sow-up fold-up and go,”

“With you stowed in my pocket between here and there.”

“When I say folded, I mean rolled squared or triangulated.”

“My preference being the latter: but that’s a whimsical matter,”

“We can talk of my penchant for pattern later.”


“So would triangulation be your choice, if so get set.”

“Or squared? Or perhaps rolled like a  flying-carpet?”

“Rolled,” said Merlin, “I don’t want to crease,”

“To have my perfect one-piece of gold-skin cease.”

“Why of course,” said the clothier, “now if you please.”


When then with nimble fingers needle thin,

Tailor rolled Merlin in a roll of gold-skin.

 Placed him in a cardboard tube closed at one end.

“Packaging,” the Tailor said, “it’s so you won’t bend: or I have to mend,”

“When we extend into the worm-hole.”


~ The Great Fairy Fire (196) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~


Morgana set an electrifying pace,

As towards Great Bastions evil-three raced,

Made haste as best they were able –

Pursuing the Wizard of Legend and Fable: with,

Wicked intent meant to destabilise him.


In black-feathered guise her Vulture flew,

From out of sky-blue into slate-grey,

Drawing ever closer to her unwitting prey.

Whilst her heart raced with red-blood-lust:

Such was her passion, her desire to slay!


She harried towering snow-covered peaks,

Agitated deep crevices and crags.

Uphill she flew higher, and higher,

Feeling drag upon her wings: ’twas fog and mist at altitude,

Thickening and quickening a shroud of cloud.


Perhaps it was because she was disorientated?

Or perhaps Morgana had forgotten her way,

For when confronted by an unexpected rise,

It was with great surprise, for she and her two-Fey,

Whose bad-luck hit hard-rock, who now lay out-cold in snow.


For many long hours they silently lay,

Stayed in pursuit by granite iron-grey:

The Great Bastion Mountains had held at bay,

Morgana-Le-Faye who came to slay but became,

Plaything for wolves and carnivores that day!


~ Author’s Note: This is my 200th Blog-post. Small achievement though it is, it’s one more Herm met by the road-side and another left behind en route to who knows where 🙂 ~


The Great Fairy Fire (194) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued)

Floating in a vat of gold within a lucid dream inside a sarcophagus, Merlin is asleep but also so close to concluding a return to new life having grown from one atom and journeying far and arduously. The Great Wizard is being gilded, made golden through-and-through as last stage in his restoration process. The a tomb-like room in which he is in is also occupied by a Kingfisher, a Heron and Halcyon the Aurelian Leprechaun, who have spent many hours assisting Merlin in his return. Heron who is Scribe of the Akashic Record – also known as Book Of The Dead – writes non-stop all day every day perhaps even in his sleep and has tired. It is he who weighs one’s heart against a feather and records judgement accordingly. He is encouraging Merlin to press-on in his dream and to listen out for a song ever hopeful his predetermined consent to allow Merlin to ‘Live’ is evidenced and he reassured of that decision. Perhaps it will be the manner of Merlin’s return that finally convinces him, for the Great Wizard is guided by questions asked of him by the Great Heron.

And so it is that Merlin dreams-on whilst unbeknownst to one-and-all, Morgana-Le-Faye flies with two Fey towards the Great Bastion Mountains, where secreted away upon this day in a hidden location the Great Wizard is floating away finding his way ahead with a little help from a golden friend…


~ The Great Fairy Fire (194) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~


“Gilding is inherently punishing,” Halcyon said,

“All that digging about filling-in: rummaging around pouring-in,”

“It makes a Wizard a King! A Gold Sovereign!”

“When in-tune with one’s nature, one is magically enhanced: but when,”

“Attuned to a Golden Universe, one is further advanced..”


The Leprechaun sounded pleased with his handy-work,

His smirk a smile engraved in gold, set in a grubby face.

“Tis rubble dust and debris, dirt and detritus! But your bone,”

“Is now a home made fit to house a Stone of great worth.”

“A special space like no other place engineered on Earth.”


“Upgrades inevitably include: heightened receptivity,”

“Unparalleled performance in connectivity, sensitivity, including infinite amplification.”

“Synapses rolled-in-gold for rapid-flow of precious information:”

“Its retrieval storage and accessibility, also precognition standard, with clear-thinking ability: perfect for,”

“Expression, Enchantment, Magic and Poetry! All of this inside of thee now flowing mercurially!”


“Your Nebula-Stone once so prone to spoil and erosion,”

“Where once ’twas split ten-thousand ways.”

“Is now inter-woven with threaded-braid spun gold,”

“Guaranteed to last for centuries: until your end-of-days,”

“When then it’s all returned to me, without further delay!”


“I’ll keep your Philosopher’s Stone on display,”

“In a little place I have tucked away:”

“Tis a tidy collection, as one might say.”

“There to brighten-up every grey-day”

“When alone in the Stone idle at play.”


“Lastly,” said Halcyon, “I’ve left a tunnelled space,”

“A place as bore for your fine-core cable:”

“It’ll enable light-fibres a quick fitting.”

“Which requires one last sitting:”

“With you sat whilst the Tailor stands, stitching!”


With that final line Halcyon disappeared,

Or appeared to vanish in thin air.

Traces of dirt grit pumice and stone

Were all that were there. Well that and clouds of gold-dust,

Dispersing everywhere.


Like much that had happened on his way,

Merlin took it all in his stride this day:

A consequence of who was inside to stay,

‘Twas Hermes not he who had the sway: ’twas he

Who would play a great-role in all that lay ahead.


Whilst at peace when so often at war, Merlin thought of before:

Of before spore changed the Fey: before that fateful day,

Morgana-Le-Faye led them astray with false title and riches.

“Unwitting minxes,” he thought, “so easily bought:”

“For nought than hollow promises.”


‘Twas the first time he’d thought of Morgana’s fold.

First reference made since bathed in gold.

“Le-Faye’s time is over, her reign to be annulled.”

“Camelot will be renewed; better than days of old!”

“Renewed, refreshed, rebuilt: standing forever bold!”


“But first to the Tailor’s: for a new light-fitting of light-fibres.”

“Woven with pull-string chord in-full accord with me!”

“When done I’ll see how the new assembly peaks and perks,”

“If all circuits are intact: or if I’ve to patch pesky quirks, or,”

“Quash quarks sparks and arcs, or else there’ll be fireworks!”


The Great Fairy Fire (193) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued)

Asleep in a dream travelling beyond stars Merlin floats in space as a mote caught on a breeze. In reality he sleeps immersed in a vat of gold inside a sarcophagus located centre of a room at end of a passageway within a mountain in the Great Bastion range surrounding an ancient Welsh village called Eons Bach. Being restored to new life in new guise has been arduous: telling a lengthy tale but Merlin is close to returning, almost at end of his processional journey, aided by a Leprechaun and a Great Heron who share space in the room with a Kingfisher by fireside: their days have also been long. The Heron is Scribe writing The Book of The Dead. It is his pen, Red Penny Red, whose nib writes last lines for every living thing. Scribing the Akashic Record is a great strain, evermore so when it is he who must preside over Merlin’s new form – as well his past life – and grant him passage to continue beyond the golden sarcophagus onwards to completion. Great Heron is a noble bird with vision to see, and written knowledge of the future to hand, and has ‘encouraged’ Merlin to press-on with his star-spun dream listening for a song sung somewhere far away.

And so it is that Merlin floats-on passing way beyond Nebula Stone – he thought was home, but just home to a shard of stone inside him – towards things as yet seen in his unfolding universe…


~ The Great Fairy Fire (193) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~


When then upon a soft sound came wafting,

Wafting on a solar wind.

To Merlin’s ear it wound drifting,

As he drifted winding his way,

Led away by song as old as long as the universe this day.


Oblivious at first such was his thirst,

His desire to be sated by sight!

This space had him exhilarated: and thrilled

Twirling with delight. But more than that he hurried along,

Following a song towards somewhere long forgotten..


His dream allowed many things to happen:-

And so it was with strings cut, he strut!

Happening along busting moves: keeping time

With the Galactic Groove. O! How he moved.

Tripping wizard-light a mystic!


With no-one else there to stand and stare,

Merlin dared be bold: or perhaps

It were too much gold that he made a sudden discovery:

Super-connectivity wasn’t just improving his mind,

On a cellular level it accelerated energy transferring along nerve-lines.


This was very new to an upright walking Wizard,

One who often laboured under press of gravity.

“Up-here at high-altitude one moves differently:”

“As if a jellyfish pulsating energetically away,”

“Rippling one’s body from head-to-toe with sway.”


“Gold-plated physiology inlaid with silver thread,”

“Has me sped along at a remarkable pace!”

“Inside where I race impulses along golden-lines,”

“I pulse at a frequency that nearly blinds: I think,” said he,

“Its the link between cells glowing whilst flowing energetically.”


“But whatever the reason it’s an amazing new toy!”

“Would it were available in reality!”

“But of course it is!” Chortled the Great Wizard,

“For when I’m through here it’s still there!”

“Always super-sonic at the core of me!”


When then of a sudden to Merlin’s great surprise,

He felt pressure build behind his eyes.

Sensed tension and a furrowing brow:

As if something ploughed-down inside.

Or drilled deeply into his vibrating-mind!


“What is this bedevilment that now ensues?”

“Just as I was in the Groove!”

“Fear not it’s me, the Leprechaun who can!”

“Halcyon the Aurelian and Charming Repairman: here to glue and gild”

“Gold your Philosopher’s Stone, my man.”


“I’ve been here for a while just milling around.”

“When having heard sound of Heron’s cry,”

“I thought it best to not wait but at least try:”

“Try for the first time it has to be said,”

“Galvanising the Stone whilst you fly ahead.”


“Protocol prohibits me doing such a thing.”

“Yet too much relies upon you Merlin,”

“To have you not primed before your Call.”

“Primed and refined through and through,”

“It wouldn’t do to have you fall-as-the Fool before Her.”


“Hmm,” hummed Merlin hoping it might echo,

Force the wee Leprechaun to let go: to stop drilling,

Filling-in, pouring-in, scraping-on, levelling-off.

Stop doing whatever he was doing with golden stuff:

For whatever he was doing was brushing him off.


When then beside him rushed ejected scree!

Merlin screamed! But he knew no-one heard.

In the vacuous space of his immediate place,

No sound was ever heard, only intuited:

Inside like a bell tolling now in his head!


For what in truth were long hours,

Truly passed-by in a timeless age.

 Merlin the Sage had given-up sleeping:

Such was the noise keeping him awake,

Like an earthquake in his head.


When then Halcyon said, “all done my friend!”

“You are brim-full and cleansed,: crevice-free,” said he,

“Rid of debris loose-stone silt pebble and scree.”

“Every crack and cavity filled with gild and gold.”

“You are a work of Art my friend: Gold Topped just like me!”


The Great Fairy Fire (192) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued)

A golden sarcophagus cradles Merlin in an infusion of gold, whilst by a fireside close-by, the Great Heron and a Leprechaun wise in ancient wise-ways, take rest from process and formality. Great Heron is Scribe of the Book Of The Dead and has written all day in his antiquated tome. Halcyon the Aurelian Leprechaun has rotated Merlin in a vat of gold and rests his arm from turning all day as well.

In preparation for his return from a single-atom of himself, Merlin is concluding a long process culminating in leading a prophecy overthrowing Morgana-Le-Faye and restoring the Kingdom of Camelot. The wicked Queen is in pursuit of the Wizard but as yet remains some distance away.

Merlin sleeps pondering upon questions asked of him by the Great Heron who has predetermined an outcome to the Wizard’s current endeavour in allowing him to Live, not Leave or Die. As Scribe recording one’s life and also its conclusion, he’s been busy gathering evidence to support this advanced decision. Merlin and the Heron are connected in some magical way, perhaps telepathically, and whilst the Wizard drifts further away dreaming away Heron and Leprechaun rest by fireside…


~ The Great Fairy Fire (192) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~


Far beyond Great Heron’s dark earthly night

Floating amongst stars shining bright

Merlin was returning home, to a place in space,

Where Nebula Stone pirouetted for all eternity: where here,

Past, Present, Future met to dance with Potentiality.


“Such poetry in motion stirs my emotion!”

“Gives energy to happy feet! Loud drumming beat,”

“Beating-on fine-fabric of this universe”

“Tis this rhythm that gives rise to this feat.”

“That gave rise to my eyes: to my mind to pen verse!”


“Now I see how it all really works:”

“Why here in co-existent singularity,”

“Night and day both play simultaneously,”

“Why when all is possibility, when matter carries all potentiality,”

“All is responding dynamically to the beat of one drum.


“The Nebula Stones are a part of all this.”

“Somehow key else why am I here?”

“Why be lulled by stone? Why learn of my home?”

“My origins deep in space: why find this place?”

“Perhaps only to be shown where I’ll cease to roam.”


Great Heron was needled trying to sleep,

He tossed and turned but couldn’t keep,

Sleeping eyes from easing-open. The ground was hard,

The fire gone out: he was convinced his Sagacious charge,

In someway needed him about.


He arose from the floor picked up Penny Red,

She was napping on a pen-holder’s silken bed,

A little disgruntled at being woken, but yet,

She was never outspoken or heard to fuss,

She was a professional through to the very last.


“Merlin?” he called-out into the room:

“Merlin,” he transmitted into the tomb.

“Are my silent words at all heard?”

“Might they reach to where you are?”

“Floating starry oceans: or set-anchor on Her Star?”


There was no reply of any description,

No transmission received on radar.

“Perhaps he has flown too far: now too at home amongst stone,”

“In a Nabulus Nebula? Will he return or turn always stay?”

“I once knew a Wizard who drowned that way.”


“Infinity is tricky in that to know what’s there,”

“One must remain conscious to be fully aware.”

“Merlin if you hear me, you must press-on.”

“Those stones are home but there’s something beyond:”

“Beyond the beat and happy feet: listen-out for song!”


“Sweet song as long and old as the universe.”

“Her sound resides in-all-things, resounding at frequencies.”

“This song is from One who stirs cosmic soup.”

“Whose verse steers passage through golden gloop.”

“She’s journey’s end my dear friend: Sweet Heart of all things here.”


The Great Fairy Fire (191) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued)

Rolled to a standstill in a vat of liquid-gold by a tired Leprechaun with aching arms, Merlin is asleep and steeping, dreaming of who knows what: perhaps Infinity? He is unencumbered in his slumber by further requirement to speak telepathically with the Great Heron, Archivist and Scribe of The Book Of The Dead who has been recording evidence required to support a predetermined decision allowing Merlin to live-on after stewing in golden brew.

The Great Wizard is concluding a process of renewal and return to new life in new guise with new form freely flowing in repertoire or wizardry. If successfully restored he will lead a prophecy returning Camelot and the once legendary Kingdom to its former glory. Close-by but yet still far-away wicked Queen Morgana-Le-Faye hastens to the Great Bastion Mountains to where in a secret place hidden away Merlin sleeps pondering upon questions the Heron asked him to consider carefully. Should Morgana reach Merlin she will readily end his day: Merlin must make great haste, but yet…

Merlin is relaxing: asleep, buoyant within a flowing dream whilst cradled inside a sarcophagus in which he dwells with his imagination distant and far, far away…


~ The Great Fairy Fire (191) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~


This my last entry for when done I sleep!

Merlin is fine left infusing in deep steep.

“I have need of some shut-eye – much deserved I say,”

“For thousands of words I’ve written today! When then I wake to face,

“Stating my case presiding judgement upon Merlin.”


“I alone bare full-weight and sole responsibility,”

“For everything, for him, everybody: for I am his court of death,”

“Weighing one’s feather against his hearth:”

 “Scribing remarks in dark-marks made upon his page:”

“Lines of playful rhyme: this time not ending on his stage.”


“But still a grave-job with a graven-ending,” Leprechaun said.

“Someone has to record deeds before death, I guess.”

“Come now,” said he rest by fireside: care for a wee dram or two.”

“Merlin can steep for hours yet: dreaming in his golden flow,”

“Whilst you and I dream by firelight’s soft warm glow.”


Merlin had somehow slipped his tie,

He was floating as a mote in liquid-sunshine:

Buoyant as would be a feather upon the sea.

But yet not on the sea was he: not anymore,

For now gold to his core he explored Infinity.


Impurities gone from him, mostly drifted away,

What once silted within was sifted this day.

When now as he dreamt amidst fleshy folds: neurons fired nuggets,

Along synapses rolled gold – with connectivity enhanced,

His heightened sensitivity sent him into a trance.


Infinity was everything he ever wanted it to be!

And more much more in fact he’d say,

“Infinity is a space forever at play. Not grey matter at all!”

“Not in anyway! But an asylum at night in full-Moonlight!”

“Yet Paradise beneath sunlit hours of day!”


“I thought at first this was all very cool.”

“When then it turned paradoxical.”

“When Night and Day turned coaxial.”

“Simultaneously with fluidity as if in unity!”

“Such exotic sight was very new to me.”


“I was expecting duality to continue.”

“With clear distinction between the two: but here there’s no division,”

“No seam to view: only cohesive seamlessness and singularity.”

“Co-existence in unity: life and death, potentiality – all polarity is undone,”

“All matter strives-on, with infinite choice and possibility .”


By fireside with sleepy eyes having sipped a few,

Heron penned a quick line or two:

A stream of consciousness from Merlin’s head,

 Imbedded at will of Red Penny’s quill,

Upon his page instead.


“Should I project out or perhaps project in?”

“I’m certain it wouldn’t matter matter at all:”

“Wouldn’t much matter matter either-way!”

“For there is no boundary to me this day,”

“Inside or outside, I’m the entire Milky Way!


“Here there are no screams from the dead, no song from the living,”

“All is harmony: death takes away life finds a way, both play,”

“Occurring simultaneously, in time to one distinct beat.”

“Upon the Great Drummer’s distant drum-kit:”

“One strike on the cymbal of a chaotic high-hat.”


The Wizard eased a smile into his easing dream,

Afloat listening to a distant stream,

A symphony playing its silvery tune: as an echo,

Strayed from a nebulous vacuum: ’twas the Piper at play,

Piping his Cosmic Flute.


Merlin continued to pulse but at his own pace.

Bobbing along melodically, in infinite space

In a place between here there and everywhere,

Or at least somewhere where asteroids roam:

“This impossible zone is home to Nebula Stone!”


“I’m home!” Merlin cried-out sounding most surprised.

In fact so much so Heron widened sleepy eyes:

Eased a smile put down his pen, returned to his shell of sleep,

His deep keep of dreams: imagining Merlin now twirling merrily,

Returning his shard happily, back home to Nebula Stone.


~ Author’s Note: ~ Breaking with format, 14 stanzas rather than 10 as bonus for Bank Holiday weekend lol 😉 ~


The Great Fairy Fire (190) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued)

Whilst still sifting through small stones found in the Pan-Man’s sieve, Merlin the Great Wizard sleeps perhaps pondering upon a time far, far ahead. He dreams in a vat of gold immersed inside a sarcophagus whilst outside the Great Heron records all that is found in the Pan-Man’s pan in his Book Of The Dead. The Heron is the great Scribe of antiquity whose words write entries in the Akashic Record as history of one’s life. Merlin is returning to new life and new form: reborn to lead a prophecy overthrowing Morgana-Le-Faye and restoring Camelot: but only if the Great Heron allows him to live. Having travelled so far on a perilous path Merlin is nearly restored: but for the the glow of gold inside and out the Great Wizard be as good as new: nearly newly ready to lead the way.

But for now Merlin sleeps whilst the Great Heron keeps-on writing up evidence in The Book Of the Dead bound by Raven-feathers often mistook for Rook. He look for evidence to be assured Merlin should progress on as evidence in support of predetermining a decision to allow Merlin to live…


~ The Great Fairy Fire (190) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~


“Is there anything else at all either large or small?

“That may sway my judgement this day?”

“Why yes indeed,” the Pan-Man decreed,

“I was saving this until last: I thought it glass but yet,”

“Its one of a kind Nebula Stone, from space sent!”


Pan-Man could hardly contain his joy,

Such was this tumble of polished glory.

This stone once grown is of unknown origination,

To my eye here on Earth is of alien extraction:

Tis a stone with great need for my consideration 


This stone is unknown within Earth’s gravity.

A stone of high-station with immense brevity.

“Do you see that shine upon its liquid mantle:”

“Be gentle – its a stone shimmering always wet.”

“Its molecular-vibration is set to resplendent.”


“But yet not unknown to Merlin who conceals it,”

“Nor to you my dear sifting friend.”

“Quite apart from anything else this day,”

“Your knowledge appears to always extend,”

“Each time we meet to perform this feat: and to whatever end!”


“It’s been ten-thousand years but never before,”

“One Nebula Stone washed from-out one pore,”

“Of any other Wizard of fabled legend and yore,”

 “My dear Heron, this is most unprecedented.”

“In its finding my spirit is happily elevated!”


“Slowly if you please,” Great Heron said,

Who was himself both fatigued and tired.

Not of writing but of standing on one leg,

Whilst resting the other for a moment instead.

 “I feel my age, my antiquity: by writes I should be dead.”


I would not be worthy as is this Blackstone,

In which Merlin carves his name upon his throne.

Tis a stone of no value but one of great worth.

The only Nebula Stone here on Earth.

A stone of infinite width and girth.


“Not like I,” said Heron, “stilled in a timeless flow.”

“Presiding over shadow for what has been an age,”

“My pen poised upon the page for what seems so long,”

“So long these long long days scribing long presiding song,”

“Why is it that I am not dead and buried, or else not yet long gone?”


“That’s the thing I’ve been asking myself all along.”

 ‘Twas the Leprechaun sitting by fireside who spoke,

Who poked fun with his tongue whilst resting his rotating arm,

Whilst Merlin dreamt-on-and-on in a golden sarcophagus,

Burnished-in radiant colours of a burning Sun.


“You heard all of that did you?” Heron asked.

“Not really,” the Leprechaun said.

“My heads-in-the shed from rotating instead,”

“I’ve only heard pieces of your prattle.”

“But if you ask me its credible, quite remarkable.”


“I heard on the QT that it was Sopdet, Grim’s Nile wife,”

“Who added her Loving touch: in as much that it were her,”

“Who added ingredients: gave Merlin’s new-stew a stir.”

“Whose stones were thrown into his bubbling mix:”

“She’s an Alkemi-Goddess full of Alchemical tricks.”


The Great Fairy Fire (189) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued)

Immersed within Leprechaun’s gilding brew Merlin stews for a while and sleeps whilst Great Heron completes his write-up regarding the Wizard in the Akashic Record: also referred to as the Book Of The Dead. Merlin is returning to new life in new guise and new form, restored from one molecule of himself and through process, growth and change is currently being gilded – inside and out – in gold in preparation for what is to come. If emergent from inside the golden sarcophagus Merlin will lead prophecy foretelling of Morgana-Le-Faye’s overthrow and restoration of the Kingdom of Camelot. She harries the skies towards the Great Bastion Mountains in pursuit of the Wizard whilst he sleeps in a sarcophagus in a secret space in a hidden place.

Great Heron suggested Merlin dream-on whilst he and Pan-Man discuss the contents of the panning-pan sieving Merlin’s gloop in the golden glow: sifting fine from coarse and noting the finds as they appear in Heron’s deathly-tome in support of his judgement to allow Merlin to live. Heron is required to preside judgement over the Wizard and the stones Pan-Man finds reflect a snap-shot of all that is inside a nearly restored Merlin.

And so it is with writing to be done and keen to get on, that the Great Heron, ancient Scribe of antiquity is ready to get his pen-on…


~ The Great Fairy Fire (189) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~


“Stone-three,” Heron said confirming his entry,

Then turning to Pan-Man hoping to receive,

“Next nugget if you please,” said he,

What is this curious element I hold to see?

Its scientific-astrology perplexes me.


As much its geophysical biology and composition: its,

Symbolical comprehension exudes a magnificent light.

“Quite Enchanting-Stone,” PanMan said to me.

“A rarity indeed! Most charming I’ve seen panning dreams.”

“One of five formed from ferocious flame firing our fine Universe.”


“And that?” Great Heron enquired pointing at grit.

“Pieces of Philosopher’s Stone,the Pan-handler said.

“Crumbled having split, eroded, silted, near-ended.

“It’s small miracle I was able at all,”

“Panning for something so weathered and small.


“Hmm,” hummed Heron pausing Red Penny Red,

“What fascinating stones these are!” He said.

It’s bizarre what is dislodged within.”

“Inside skin subject to infusion: and rolled”

“Whilst sifted in a profusion of liquid-gold!


“Right okay, I think I got all of that down.”

“What else was found panning around?”

Two jaded Jades, one jest of Jasper,

“Just pressed, One slice of Adventurine:

“Adventuring in green with rutliated seams.”


“Also Amethyst, Angelite, Garnet and Carnelian,”

“Hematite, Labradorite, Snowflake Obsidian.”

“Turquoise, Tourmaline, Stillbite, Serpentine,”

“Sardonyx, Sapphire, Rhyolite, Blue Lapis Lazuli.”

“Bright white Merlinite with 7-point shine.”


“Finally there’s Labradorite,” continued Pan-Man,

“A highly mystical stone: a bringer of light.”

“An infrequent sight in my pan but not rare: although if dressed red,”

“It is said its power doubles, trebles when fashioned green.”

 “But this stone is a hybrid, most curious indeed.”


“It’s properties are unique I think,” he said. “Labradorite:”

“Blends Aqua Aura and Staurolite – the Fairy-Stone -“

“With Moonstone, Thulite, Smithsonite and Selenite,”

“Which is perfectly right and expected: but yet,”

“A most curious sight is catching sight of Brecciated Celestite!”


“Would you care to elaborate,” Great Heron said,

“I’d like to get my entry right: for posterities sake.”

“How do I spell Celestine?” He asked Pan-Man.

“No it’s Celestitealso known amongst Pan-Handlers,”

As Celestikite.”


“I like the sound of that stone,” Heron said,

Resetting Red Penny Red upon the page.

“A stone from below that knows of great height,”

“Celestikite knows of deep-spaceflight:”

“Originates far beyond distant-starlight.”


The Great Fairy Fire (188) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued)

Merlin is twirling in a vat of gold: rotated in a golden sarcophagus by a Leprechaun in a tomb-like room with gild walls whilst the Great Heron, Scribe of the Book Of The Dead, chats with the wizard telepathically and makes entries in the tome he holds and keeps up-to-date. The unfurling process of returning Merlin to life is heading towards some sort of conclusion after a long journey to arrive at this secret space in a hidden place and all whilst Merlin and characters in the unfolding drama have been harried and pursued by Morgana-Le-Faye. She desires Merlin dead and quick end to a prophecy foretelling her overthrow and restoration of Camelot.

The Great Wizard is being gilded, made golden somehow by a Leprechaun with alchemical wisdom knowing a great-craft. He is the last of his kind: the ever-giving Keeper and Dispenser of Gold, the repairman inside the Philosopher’s Stone who glues together all fissures, seals crevices, closes crags and creases and fills faults with gold. The Leprechaun is charged with infilling two circular folds in the creased skin on Merlin’s hands. But it seems all of Merlin is being infused and gilded in gold.

But for now in a precious space, a peaceful place occupied by cast and characters alike Heron chats away with Merlin managing his expectations whilst the Wizard spins in gold…


~ The Great Fairy Fire (188) – Sifted and Drifted (Continued) ~ By ~ Dewin Nefol ~


Great Heron prattled-on for long minutes more:

A quiet discussion held telepathically,

Whilst Merlin’s body immersed in gold,

Rolled no more but slowly stilled.

Paused momentarily within syrupy swell.


“You’d do well to sleep,” Great Heron said,

“To steep whilst we keep your head stewing:”

“Steeping in our brew of golden tincture,”

“Intending to change the tint-in-yer.”

“From grizzling-grey to sizzling-shade.”


“I’ll leave you to ponder upon Question-one,”

“The answer to which is: Must Live,” he said.

“Limit meditation to consideration of a soliloquy on the following:”

Love, Live, Leave. Be ready to wax-lyrically: truthfully before my eye,”

“Whilst I, presiding judgement over thee: scribe your summary poetically.”


 “I’m certain to have mentioned before: that before I”

“Sign-off your yore I deliberate and cogitate a little more.”

“I’ve entries to make before I do and all whilst you sleep,”

“Slowly infusing in Leprechaun brew: – About the stones,”

“Pan-Man’s found whilst panning around inside you.”


“When then I am through writing all of that,”

“Then I shall scribe-my-preside in jet-black:”

“Either to sign you-in or sign you-out, or,”

“Allow you to go back: to new life new form,”

“Fulfilling prophecy beyond Eons Bach.”


“But you’ll have to convince me you’re worthy.”

“Of my choice to pre-scribe Must Live.”

“Please ponder most carefully Merlin my dear:”

“There’s no returning to The Book Of The Dead.”

“What is written by Red Penny Red cannot be corrected.”


“And so it is to deep sleep you’ll turn,”

“For one last chance to follow your dreams.”

“In deep mines of your mind higher down,”

“Drilling golden seams are answers to be found,”

“From which to forge your crown.”


“Not a crown worn-above one’s brow, for idle ceremony:”

“A great Wizard needs no pomp or pageantry!”

“But vision to fulfil prophecy: restoring rightful sovereignty,”

“Of Camelot,” said he. “For Venus above, for Life, for Love, for Poetry.”

“For all yet to be penned in waxing-gold lyrically.”


“Also consider as you dream ideas on Infinity.”

“This is Question-two by-the-way,” he said,

“Sorry Merlin, I should have said.”

“As a concept what do you imagine Infinity to be?”

“Which isn’t an easy question to answer really.”


Question-three follows on from question one and two.”

“There is no right answer but I would like you:”

“To make attempt describing what is there when:”

“Imagining what is beyond Infinity.”

“That will conclude my enquiry of thee.”

“When thereupon I’ll move-on to writing your summary.”


‘Whilst I leave Merlin to stew in brew and think.”

“I’m confident in correctly predetermining him.”

“For I know what is written on each papyrus leaf, each page,”

“Telling ahead what is at stake. But still there’s possibility,”

“The Wizard will sleep and never wake.”