Fantasy – I wrote it years ago, but I admit without help it wouldn’t sound half as mediocre-okay as it does. Fantasy Late night I hear the callingOf the vast rolling seaThe waters capture the seashellsThen they pull away from meShould I heed the maidensTo harmonize as they singI’d risk falling and drowningWhile the sky […]
Poetry. Death is sometimes a simple matter of taking a walk and dancing into the soft comfort of a new dawn.
Poetry. The Wyrd-weaver heard the call of Odin and answered on a wet day, despite being sick in bed with strep throat. She got out of bed, and with Odin’s power felt better enough to get her shaman’s rattles and journey to him on the godly plane. He made a request, and she agreed -without realizing the cost.