Finally, the Queen makes a poisoned apple, and in the disguise of a farmer’s wife, offers it to Snow White. When she is hesitant to accept it, the Queen cuts the apple in half, eats the white part and gives the poisoned red part to Snow White. She eats the apple eagerly and immediately falls into a deep stupor. When the dwarves find her, they cannot revive her, and they place her in a glass coffin, assuming that she is dead.
This is still true, my preference is full leaved bags composed of silk.
~ The Myrtle Reed Cookbook, 1916
consider it dug
Flowers madness and polar bear rug
Here’s the water, just ankle deep high
Lay back relax and look up at the sky.
I met a lady in the meads
Full beautiful—a faery’s child,
Her hair was long, her foot was light,
And her eyes were wild.
Now doth her bodice aptly laced
From her fair bosom to her shapely waist
Fine by degrees and beautifully less
The air and harmony of grace express.
Their waves into the deep,
She sleeps a charmed sleep:
Awake her not.
Led by a single star,
She came from very far
To seek where shadows are
Her pleasant lot.
She left the rosy morn,
She left the fields of corn,
For twilight cold and lorn
And water springs.
Through sleep, as through a veil,
She sees the sky look pale,
And hears the nightingale
That sadly sings.
Rest, rest, a perfect rest
Shed over brow and breast;
Her face is toward the west,
The purple land.
She cannot see the grain
Ripening on hill and plain;
She cannot feel the rain
Upon her hand.
Rest, rest, for evermore
Upon a mossy shore;
Rest, rest at the heart’s core
Till time shall cease:
Sleep that no pain shall wake;
Night that no morn shall break
Till joy shall overtake
Her perfect peace.
“You don’t love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.
- Oscar Wilde
There is almost always something small that touches your heart, the sets you on the path you walk now. For me, my love of fairy tales began with this source.
I dreamt of mermaids, falling down rabbit holes, eating poisoned apples, wishes, books and glass slippers.
~ The Gentleman and Lady’s Book of Politeness and Propriety of Deportment, by Mme. Celnart, 1833