the_court_of_the_crimson_king_and_the_iceberg_quee sabbie and i entered through the bright blue wrought iron doors where a rooster herald dressed in green announced me. he gave out a frog.almighty screech and the at the top of his well cultured voice announced "lady synoin the first, duchess of umbrigde and lady of the snake." i gazed around the hall, awed. the purple carpet from under my feet stretched away infront of me, around the little clumps and gatherings, wove in and out of the harrid servants to rest at the steps before the thrones. apon those glorious eddifaces built of shattered glass and birds wings sat the crimson king and the iceberg queen. he in robes of red and gold, she in white and silver. along the walls were great arched windows, open to the night air and the sounds of fountains running and streams sitting on benches of marbled moonlight. inside the courtiers shuffled and switched to music inspired by jaggered and angled archetecture and the way swallows fly and flies swallow. as my announcment slowly coiled to the rafters like the smoke from the little fire pits dotted here and there amongst the carpet like a rocks in a swirling stream, the whole congreation of flounced and flurried and feted frangipanis fell silent and turned my way. i waited, palms sweating. did i choose the right thing to wear? the right night to appear? the correct way of entrance? should i not have instead chosen to asend from a glass goblet of wine at dinner like a gently drunken genie? or maybe i should have glided in on the evening breeze? but it was too late now. i stood in the doorway in my skirt woven made from butterfly kisses, daisies and song and my singlet woven from spiderwebs and memories, my tiara of farie lights blinking erratically, twisting inside myself as i waited for the king and queen to recognise me. 011227 ... sabbie and i entered through the bright blue wrought iron doors where a rooster herald dressed in green announced me. he gave out a frog.almighty screech and the at the top of his well cultured voice announced "lady synoin the first, duchess of umbrigde and lady of the snake." i gazed around the hall, awed. the purple carpet from under my feet stretched away infront of me, around the little clumps and gatherings, wove in and out of the harrid servants to rest at the steps before the thrones. apon those glorious eddifaces built of shattered glass and birds wings sat the crimson king and the iceberg queen. he in robes of red and gold, she in white and silver. along the walls were great arched windows, open to the night air and the sounds of fountains running and streams sitting on benches of marbled moonlight. inside the courtiers shuffled and switched to music inspired by jaggered and angled archetecture and the way swallows fly and flies swallow. as my announcment slowly coiled to the rafters like the smoke from the little fire pits dotted here and there amongst the carpet like a rocks in a swirling stream, the whole congreation of flounced and flurried and feted frangipanis fell silent and turned my way. i waited, palms sweating. did i choose the right thing to wear? the right night to appear? the correct way of entrance? should i not have instead chosen to asend from a glass goblet of wine at dinner like a gently drunken genie? or maybe i should have glided in on the evening breeze? but it was too late now. i stood in the doorway in my skirt woven made from butterfly kisses, daisies and song and my singlet woven from spiderwebs and memories, my tiara of farie lights blinking erratically, twisting inside myself as i waited for the king and queen to recognise me. 011227 ... s this one is too long 011227 ... sabbie the little bit wierded this one didnt work. methinks the title was too long for blather to cope with. so the_court_of_the_crimson_king it is. 011227 ... sabbie ACK! ACK! blather_rebels !@!!!! help me, im melting... 011227 ... egger . 040201 ... anti-plaigarist read stephen king much? 040201 ... sab actually, no. he bores me. the endings are terrible and i have too much to do in my life to sit around and plough through badly written, boring horror. 040201 ... sab actually, no. he bores me. the endings are terrible and i have too much to do in my life to sit around and plough through badly written, boring horror. 040201 ... sabbie oooohhh... double blathe whilst slagging off stephen king.. spOOOooOOOoooOOOooky... 040201 what's it to you? who go blather from