Hope springs infernal [SP2019]

I took a flight from London to New York once, and we took off at sunset with the sun just about to drop below the horizon. It stayed sunset the whole flight - we must have been travelling the same speed as the earth turns in her orbit around the sun, and it was like we were travelling through the magical cloud lands of Magonia where always it is perpetual twilight and a greenish tint permeates the atmosphere, church bells can be heard on occasions far away, I remember how we used to tend our cows in the emerald green pastures, so long ago it were, when we strayed entranced and entangled into the upper world our cow's bells and those what we came to our misfortune to know as those of the church and we came upon, a crowd, they came upon us, they were as ghosts and we as the green verdant of springs etched into our skin, our eyes glowed with the hubris of enfolding buds of primrose and hyacinth - it is how we learnt of desire in your world, and the inevitable decay that results from such, the passage of the seasons, the cycles and rhythms, obliquity and iniquity both lovers and co-conspirators simultaneous with the ecliptic and the music of the spheres.

Which I may hear on occasions when I dream idly of the eternal spring time that was our home once in St Martin’s Land - and when I listen how I wish that I could return there one day. That I could be forever young and never winter’s cruel frost touch my sweet innocence again.

...When we landed, night fell quickly as for a time we were held in customs, such as they are on arrival in a foreign land. And I wondered at how quickly the darkness descended soon as I'd to rouse myself from my half-wake and sleeping reverie aboard the restless plane.

And I thought to myself, how ironic that time should still as we hurtled through space, and then regain its composure in the stasis of the bagage queue.

And how strange the dreams contained therein - I swear I dreamt it was the spring time a'ready and winter's bane'd been banished evermore.

Well, I hope was just a dream, though it seemed most real, for if not the autumn winds and winter freeze then joys of spring and summer haze will with them find no more in the void that we used to know, as the eternal passage of Time.

THE END

a reply to: Drachenfel

That was great and I loved the juxtaposition of a jet flight with that pastoral, enlightenment poet's vibe.
Great start to the comp.

a reply to: SprocketUK

Many thanks

oooo, did you incorporate the green children of woolpit in there?

awesome tale.

a reply to: Drachenfel

Gorgeous prose, and I loved the stream of consciousness.

This was a great read, thank you!

a reply to: ClovenSky

Yes! Well spotted - the famous Woolpit story, which I wove into the story as I was thinking of the arrival of greenery - and these 2 children turned up in the Medieaval village of Woolpit with green skin.

a reply to: zosimov

Many thanks, and yes stream of conciousness would be right as it all flowed out in about 1/2 hour and I didn't really know where I was headed.

Looking forward to reading everyone else's entries - I have been writing as a hobby for 5 yrs or so, but very isolated, so a forum like this will do me a world of good.

Important to read and appreciate other people's efforts, hope to learn a thing or two.

a reply to: Drachenfel

That is great. I always mourned how that story ends. We basically corrupted those wonderful children of nature and killed them in assimilation. I like your ending much better.

a reply to: Drachenfel

Insightful story. Made me stop, think and daydream for a while to picture the writing.

Cheers for that.

kind regards,

bally

Loved this!