Adrian the Owl was forever unimpressed.
Whatever he caught for dinner he felt sure it wasn’t the best.
But shouldn’t he be grateful for what he could find?
For one day, he may return empty clawed, nothing for him to call “Mine.”
And wouldn’t that be such a terrible salty taste to find?
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
The day had arrived! A beary happy birthday for Sheila indeed, today was her second birthday, she’d been counting down the days for the last three weeks. She could barely remember her last birthday, she was just that bit too young, but her Mama and Papa bear assured her that today would be such utter fun.
She had invited her class of thirty bears, squirrels, rabbits and other animals, to a spectacular party set up outside in the woods, where there was a fairground set up, with dodgem cars, spinning rides, even an inflatable bouncing castle exploration with many side and front rooms.
With glee, Shiela had laid her eyes upon her birthday party surprise, her parents had kept the set up a secret from her, and rushing over to the dodgems she began to settle herself into the one and only pink princess car. She drove around while waiting for her friends’ imminent arrival, she was a fierce racer it seemed, the extra practice she was getting in would surely result in the beating of the other teams!
When the guests arrived, they had a grand old time with the fairground of her special day, the only problem though was all the animals could not use the inflatable castle today. Why not? It is enough to answer, the claws of her class of creatures were too sharp and punctured the castle with multiple holes. It was a downright shame as the castle was merely a hire for the day, not owned by them and surely worth thousands of dollars, how Shiela’s parents groaned.
But it was her special day and nothing would allow their daughter’s happiness to come undone, lovely Mama Bear and Papa Bear distracted them all from disappointment with a lilting song.
“Come for the honey, come for the oats, come for the cupcakes, come for the fairy bread and marmalade toast! Allow us all to eat, young ones!” With a smile they led the animals inside, where Shiela’s massive birthday cake awaited them all, causing great widened smiles and tummies rumbling inside.
Despite the puncturing of the castle the day was deemed a great success, for this would be a very special day for Shiela for remember, many memories of the day, she felt extremely blessed.
By Alice Well (LMH)
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
By Alice Well (LMH) (c)
Little Sooty Bunny liked to be led astray. Although she was cruelly kept captive upon a leash, occasionally her owner’s heart would be swayed. During these times she would be led off the path, the common ground as it were known and called, and into the forest into a jovial scene where characters waited to greet Little Sooty Bunny and made her excitement grow!
It was on adventures such as these that the Bunny wished extremely ever so much to escape, so she could play in the woods, with the Twin Trees and their smiling mouths, eyes hooded secretively, only happiness exuded, no negativity, no horrid hate. The Sun and the Moon chuckling and giggling with accompanying forest tunes, the Trees so free they were tickling Bunny with their sweetly sung Fur Elises and Clair de Lunes.
But Bunny was stuck! Held by that unfair leash, how would she escape, from the terrible owner she always managed to accidentally displease every day? For every movement or noise Bunny would make would upset and cause her owner’s anger to flare like a terrible disease, taking hours to abate. The only reason he took Bunny out was to get her away from the house, where he longed to lay about, and tiring Bunny of energy meant his later relaxing could be uninterrupted and entirely at ease.
The silly owner didn’t realise that if he allowed Bunny loose to freedom, he would kill two birds with one stone: allowing him to continually laze about and allowing Bunny the freedom to escape from the cruel owner, of him to be without, and to have a more loving, welcoming home.
Then one day a crafty squirrel descended from a tree, “Allow me to help, dear Bunny, allow me to help you view this world, how special it is, how beautifully perfect it can be.” And gnaw through the leash slowly did Squirrel until he gained success, with a tentative look at her sleepy owner Bunny was suddenly more than impressed! Escape did she, after thanking her saviour, and into the forest she went to live, a life of happiness and ardour. It was something that Bunny was most deserving of, something she appreciated most wholeheartedly.
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
By Alice Well (LMH) (c)
The constricting snake had had many victims as of late. In particular he liked to wrap around hapless pieces of fruit. His favourite, of course, was the tomato (yes, that’s a fruit!), wrapping tighter and tighter until: EXPLODE! Its shape capput!
The seeds and mess would be splattered on the roof, wall, floor, sofa, kitchen chairs, and how satisfying it was to Snake that he, giggled and twisted and further contorted because he knew it was everywhere. But he never ate his fruit victims, they were simply game for his amusing, he wanted to find more, for this game was worth further pursuing.
One day Snake came upon a red apple, how gloriously shiny did it appear, that Snake immediately set upon it with a wry grin and wicked curl tactic, constrict, CONSTRICT, but it would not become broken in a manner that he felt would be so fantastic.
Growing irritated and growly, Snake set his fangs upon it, biting and biting, deeply and rapidly until nothing but holes were left to view. This poor red apple was like a pitted golf ball or the moon with its craters, of his interest Snake would give up incredibly soon. For there was nothing left to alter, nothing to change or attack or squash, that he unravelled quickly without any faltering and slid into the dust and the brush. And another poor waste of fruit had wasted had he, that it was lucky the little animals discovered the remnants for their morning tea.
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
By Alice Well (LMH) (c)
Billy the Cheeriest Rainbow Whale was happy, joyous as could be. He loved to smile from awakening, through the day, to the evenings, even during his breakfast, lunch and tea! He had much to be satisfied and grateful for: a wealthy relaxed life, a happy contented wife, but most of all his rainbow colouring pleased him so much that with each shimmer and sparkle he felt unique and wanted to view more.
They were the colours that flecked in his eyes, the abounding beauty that brightened his mood and caused a loving sigh, for wherever the rainbow would be, Billy would be most happy. He felt electrified each moment, knowing that during any ill mood a glance at his rubbery bright blubber would solve it.
Billy was the only rainbow coloured whale among his pod of whales, the only whale who could light the darkness without a chance to fail. He lit the way for so many wayward young male and female whales, when he redirected their poor life choices by reflecting their disabling inner lights by shining his onto theirs, assistance to rectify themselves.
He was a leader of sorts in the pod, without it being made official, yet one day his role here was taken down due to a useless past principle. He had performed some shameless tasks in his former life, one such an eating of pearls and clams that were others though he’d claimed them loudly as “MINE!!!” It was a secret occurrence that he was embarrassed to reveal to anyone, but a nasty such and such from his past revealed it to everyone, and thrown from grace was Billy, and now outcast from the pod, utterly saddened and alone was he.
His wife stood by his side but the rest of the crew were beyond forgiving this Billy and chose to side with the such and such.
So off Billy and his wife went, in search of more pleasant waters, where his efforts at reschooling the wayward youth would be appreciated, and his past neither revealed again, nor pondered.
In life one must preach and teach forgiveness and practice it with zeal, while others may have lived or been living with mistakes, of their current lives these mistakes should no longer be judged or frowned upon if they are living with positivity, humility and good will. If the lessons learned match the lessons which have been taught then move from the past will he or she, acceptance and self understanding and forgiveness is of most import, it is a personal locket and key.
By Alice Well (LMH)
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
By Alice Well (LMH) (c)
A tapestry of colours was what the sky had to offer, a melded, malleable weaving of hues and subtly formed pictures. A glorious awakening to one’s day, the views of the heavens excited the dancer in every way.
Amelia the Ballet Dancer lived and breathed colours. She was enlivened by their presence that assured her. They caused her heart and head to bounce and flounce and buzz, her feet to prance and leap, higher and higher just because!
The reason was that while she lived for dance, she lived for colours too, for she was secretly an artist, although she did not share this, even with friends who were of her very best. The reason was she was frightened of judgment and failure, instead she rose for the dawn and with paintbrushes performed her calling in nature.
One fine morning when the sky was ‘pickadilly’ – her name for a mixture of red, pink and blue in the far off hills that were so pretty – her eyes and careful ears stumbled upon a quiet watchful kookaburra, looking wryly over at her. She giggled herself, for these birds were meant to cackle manically, laugh, laugh, laugh, and instead he sat noiselessly, beady eyes seemingly observing enough.
“Why, come and dance, come fly with me!” Amelia implored, “Visit the skies with me!” And thrust her hands towards them she did, throwing her head back and cackling with glee, now Mr. Kookaburra, perplexed initially, sung his own sweet laughter in a beautiful major key.
Now Amelia’s morning painting features a new character, not just her lovely coloured tapestry of the skies, a new knowing clever character, a wondrous bird to ponder. And ponder and appreciate and amazed and wowed were her friends upon revealing her first public painting to them, there was no judgement, her fears were unwarranted, she was actually appreciated and lauded for being quite talented.
So Amelia openly lives two lives now, one of dance, and the other of artistic painterly creations, by day she leaps and pirouettes, and by night and dawn she details the world’s creations.
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
By Alice Well (LMH) (c)
Stacy, the Conjurer possessed powerful sorcery skills within herself. These she had gleaned from her mother, Sandra the Grand Master, her spells she’d share while a baby Stacy would sleep upon the bunk bed’s fashioned bed shelf. She learned how to conjure a baby mouse from a little frog, she knew how to teach it to hop, skip, and yelp a mouse song. She could alter water into honey and oats, and a greedy Stacy loved this spell for herself. She knew how to transmit thoughts to the mind of another, this particular spell she kept from the prying eyes of others.
As she grew into a toddler, then a little munchkin youngster, the spells became more convoluted, and much more complex. She studied hard and true until she knew, a spell of an ultimate test. While she was at the skill level of allowing another to fly, her final, ultimately skilled spell was to create a purple aura of immortality, with this she would never, ever die. Only she knew this spell, she had crafted it well, and with a saddened knowledge she understood it could only be known by herself.
She watched generations of families begin, build, grow, multiply, the older generations becoming elderly, then with tears in her eyes she watched them die, and while Stacey remained at the age she had gained the aura, the town was growing suspicious for she did not appear to grow older.
The townspeople cried, “What is this sorcery? Are you a sorceress?” At the stake a mound of oak trees burned brightly, hungrily awaiting a demoness. For that was how they viewed sorcery: evil, wanton spirits, filled with blackened misery. But Stacey was nothing but the opposite, she was loving light herself, and in the moment of the townspeople’s rage she shed the cloak of immortality from herself.
Without it she grew older rather quickly, time had caught its way up to her, and in three short years she passed away from the world so quietly, so gently, with her loving kitten-daughter Pearl curled in her arms.
By Alice Well (LMH)
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
By Alice Well (LMH) (c)
It was a marriage of questionable convenience, the woman promised to her blender, preloaded with the goodness of a whole carrot, at the cessation of their nuptials, he knew where to send her.
The greengrocer held his palm across his sweaty face, when he saw this woman grabbing every piece of fruit and veggie in his store, everything was snatched away from their ordered place. Frantically she grabbed, left, right and centre, even one, almost unseen squashed black stinking banana.
“He can blend real good, he can blend reaaaaalll nice,” was her working motto and mantra. Why did she marry a blender? This is a peculiar story I have to tell you.
This women had an overt obsession with health, and an unhealthy obsession with maintaining her weight herself. Often she’d go on juice fasts, the longest had been twenty days, with no solids, only liquified fruit and vege, she would cleanse her unhealthy days away.
She was also obsessed with gym, and it was here she met her true love, the Blender formally known simply as Gin, a singular word. He had once had a lover named Tonic, and each lazy Sunday they would blend themselves, intertwine and smile, downing alcoholic beverage upon beverage, their love was known to last for many a while.
But Blender longed for someone far healthier, someone who would take care of themselves not only his heart and beats to drowsily, dreamily blur. He desired someone proactive in their health and themselves and suddenly he stumbled upon her, at the squat racks, wiping away sweat from herself.
She shyly glanced upward, their eyes met in a burning moment, “Hi, I’m Blender, nice to meet ya,” and he offered his hand to be shaken while he continued to speak. His gym knowledge and fruitarian lifestyle understanding was impressive to this woman, soon to be his bride to be, they were fierce together, electric, their words a melded symphony from heaven.
Over time, during their marriage, Blender began to wonder at the state of mind his wife lived in, he really began to ponder. Did she need help with her suspected issues, someone professional to talk to at least? But no, at this suggestion she would not bend, all she’d do was blend, blend, blend.
But as she became more comfortable in her relationship and circumstances, she began to put on a little more weight and use the gym facility less, and now she found out she was with child, what a glorious day, a future human-appliance child, weren’t they so blessed! How she wept when Cucie arrived, named after her favourite veg to blend, her life was now on track: love, health, family, personal wealth. There was no need to be tormented by inner demons anymore.
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
(c) By Alice Well (LMH)
Television Rabbit was in demand all over town. Fuzzy television screens he could fix in a flash, for this task he held the undefeated title and crown. All he’d do was hop hop HOP atop the faulty appliance, and alter the angle of his electronic ears, for a correct signal or signals, to analogically find them.
One fine day he was strutting about town, soaking in the glory of his knowledge that wherever he was, success could be found, then suddenly, slowly, he felt a slight droooooop.
In fear he grabbed his ‘bunny ear’ and found it had gone from rigid to lacklustre, weak and limp like a kinaesthetically warped and unattractive spoon.
“By George, what will I do?” he frantically thought to himself. All traces of bold arrogance now aborted, he was paining now, within himself. How could he perform his job tasks with expertise and ease?? Now both ears were drooping and bent, was he the only one who would truly care that they almost reached his knees?
For now, his competitor, Panda the Tuner, would likely take over all of his future clients, and saddening though it was, perhaps Television Rabbit’s working days had been had, now it was his time to experience the television’s fuzz of his own faulty appliance that he had.
These days he is quieter, much less bravado has he, he walks slowly among the town peoples, wistfully dreaming of analogue TVs. If only he could fix, go back to his hey day, but the truth of the matter is there was no need for him nor Panda, for digital TV was now the way.
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose 
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