A Short Note

A poet’s, a dreamer’s silliness.

Image result for dragon flying

A Short Note

I wanted to write,
something quick,
something short
a word or two
just to say…

but a dragon shot
over the poppies
that crowded the meadow
where my thoughts zip
from bloom to bloom

as bees, diligent,
about their work…
but that beast, its cry.
singe and harmony,
ancient and shimmer.

I’m sorry,
but this ink
must suffice.

Advertisements

Poem

A simple piece detailing my writing process.

Related image

Poem

Like a mouse,
a poem scurried
through the tall grass
where the daisies,
burdened

by a mist of rain,
bowed as footmen
before their lord.
It almost slipped
my pursuit,

knitting its panic
to the shadows,
but I snatched it here,
its tracks as bold
as ink scratched

across a white sheet
of paper.

New Spring 

I just started Robert Jordan’s novel New Spring: In the Beginning, a prequel to Jordan’s famed Wheel of Time series.

New Spring describes events which take place twenty years before the events of The Eye of the World (Book 1). The story begins in the last days of the Aiel War, and the Battle of the Shining Walls around Tar Valon. It is set primarily in Tar Valon and the Borderlands, specifically Kandor.

New Spring focuses mainly on Moiraine Damodred and Siuan Sanche, two Aes Sedai new to the sisterhood, and how a young Moiraine became Aes Sedai, met Lan Mandragoran and made him her Warder. The novel also explains how Moiraine and Siuan witnessed a prophecy of the Dragon’s rebirth and came to begin investigating the Karaethon Cycle, the Prophecies of the Dragon, decades before discovering Rand al’Thor.”

So far so good. I’ve already found a favorite line.

“Only the dead can afford oblivion for the oblivious are soon dead.”

A Wish

This poem began as a statement against the foolishness, in my opinion, of selfies. It matured into a poem about a fish. Go figure.

Related image

A Wish

The pond water,
wrinkled
by an apple
tossed
by a boy attempting

to spook
a turtle from its perch,
a log sleeping
in the far shallows,
rippled

through my reflection
as I esteemed
the cool black
that cradled
a small fish

as a cloud might cradle
a wish.