An older piece of mine, first shared on Facebook when a certain poem and its variants were making the rounds. A friend posted it yesterday (with permission), so here it is for anyone who wants to find it again. America is the Gun That holds its head up high. That does not scorn the fight,… Read More America’s Gun
Something a little epic for your day. Blooms of fire in the night Echo back the wan daylight Cinder sparks and angry coal Kindling now vengeance toll. Pass the fire in the night Watch the days glowing bright Wrath that builds on hollow gains Leaves a shell: all that remains Marching feet to a trumpet… Read More All That Remains
Not sure which of my worlds this is from yet, but a bit of a martial piece for your enjoyment. The songs we now are singing We raise up to the sky And lift with one defiance The honor held up high. Sword and shield stand ready In the early light of day And bold… Read More Siege of Bahn Barahk
Sometimes the most powerful act is keeping the lights lit so someone can see their way home. One drop, two drop, three drops, four Drops of rain upon the door, Drops of rain in bitter cold As hope itself is growing old. Old though hope can ever grow The cut of day comes swift to… Read More The Waiting Light
Thinking through a scene in a story (way down the line) and this hit me. Struck me as something folk might find hopeful. Call the names lost in the night. Call the names back to the light. Call the names lost and alone. Call the names and bring them home. Where e’er their souls be… Read More Calling