My Favorite Thing

Yesterday, I spent some time in the woods, walking, thinking, wondering…

For a time, it rained and I found a few words, trivial words, but they made me smile.

I snapped the photo shared here while I walked.

My Favorite Thing

Today, it’s the rain
that sparks
against the black stone
resting near
the silver brook
as still as a turtle
the best thing to say.

To Fairy Tales

An ode to fairy tales (and poetry)…or why I like writing so very, very much.

Image result for old paper and quill still life

To Fairy Tales

Once, I thought,
upon a time,
about a place
when and where
fairies tempted butterflies
to flit between the whiskers
of snoring trolls,
sunlight slid
off dragon wings
like melted gold,
and wizards,
with great beards,
roamed dark places
that men feared,
teaching wolves to talk,
and farm boys
to brandish swords,
but, happily, I’ve discovered
the thickest magic
rests in the shadow
of the closest tree,
mine to breathe and feel
today, even now, and ever after.

Training the Beast

I have an idea for a much grander piece of writing, but that must wait. Time is short and I’m soon to fly. Still, I wanted to jot something, spread a bit of ink. Here’s a bit silliness.

Image result for dragons

Training the Beast

The stray dragon
clamoring on the porch,
scraping its scales

against the rusted rail,
the house’s cedar shakes…
listen, it bellows for a belly rub,

charring the marigolds,
choking the morning
with soot, 

but it must learn to wait.
The coffee’s hot
and the butter

has just melted
into the depths
of my toast.

On Fairy-Stories

Shared here are the first three paragraphs of JRR Tolkien’s essay “On Fairy-Stories.” The essay was written as Tolkien wrote “Lord if the Rings.” Tolkien and his words have had and continue to have a tremendous influence on me and my words. These paragraphs are wonderful. Please, read them and share what speaks to you.

In this Rain

Ever wonder how the cats that roam your neighborhood deal with a wet, cold, rainy day? Well, it’s wet and cold and rainy here in Northern New Jersey and I wondered just that.

Image result for cat wet under rain

In this Rain

The cat will curl
into itself,
under the eaves,
below the tink
and chime

of each drop
against the white gutter,
stuff its thoughts,
mouse and sun
beneath its heart,

the warmest place
it now can claim,
cocoon itself in sleep
until its fur feels
the afternoon heat

sifting through
the trees as breath.