Some samples of my work
EXCERPT FROM Soul of the Shard
This is still very much in the first draft stage, but click here to read an excerpt of Soul of the Shard, sequel to Spirit of the Stone. Still a work in progress, I don't know when I might complete this book, but it has some old and new characters whom I very much enjoy writing thus far.
Unleashed is a dark short story about magic's reemergence in the world, and the Demons that desperately want to destroy it so that none can stop them. This is an excerpt of that story.
IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT...
The result of a challenge by a teacher to create the longest sentence we could starting with “It was a dark and stormy night…” (circa 1993) - see it reimagined into a poem in Dancing Words.
It was a dark and stormy night that brought in the haunting festival of spirits where people dressed in such lavish costumes as ghouls and goblins, witches and warlocks, sorcerers and wizards, and, of course, the five or six brave fools who danced around in the ever present drapery of the festival symbol, the dragon, with its bright red and flashy green, the sparkle of sapphire and the gleam of amber, the jingling silver scales and sharp golden teeth, and the unforgettable cold and angry flash of deep blue eyes overlooking the whole assembly of mixed creatures shivering in the mist of the rain, starting with each thud of thunder, and glowing with every flash of pale blue lightning that shoots across the black sky as though trying to point out this myriad assembly to the unwary who might find themselves lost in the horrors of this autumn storm.
A poem is emotions
Swirling violently around in a sweet sea of words.
They twist, they turn and are thrown about.
They say different things,
yet sometimes seem the same.
People try to grasp their meaning
like gulls on the water grasp for food,
but they fail to understand
the masked message
hidden deep beneath the frothy white waves
FACE OF THE UNIVERSE
Star motes swirl in a dance across the eye;
life in a vortex of fiery sparks that evoke ethereal endurance
beyond the ken of mortal minds
Ashes and dust remade,
imagination transfigures existence
An eternal search for congruence;
elements entwined, seeking completion
ever yearning for that perfect balance,
the steps that inform desires
and etch the truth
as a seal of harmony into the face of the universe
Rain drowns the sky in heavy tears
as it draws rivulets of mud in cracked fields.
The sun doesn't see, for it cannot penetrate the
oppression of ceaseless clouds who mask the weeping of parched earth
and strive to scuttle distant dreams by the drudgery held at bay
only by a dome of protective canvass.
Do we hunch beneath layers of protection,
hide behind the shelter of human achievement,
huddle amongst nature's ready-made umbrellas?
Or do we venture into the tempest,
tilt our heads to the heavens and allow the water to bathe our faces,
glory in the sensation of this life-giving gift that trickles past open lips
and slides with icy sureness down dry throats,
breathing strength into a yearning vessel as it washes away old conceits
and nurtures the seeds of new ideas?
Our choice, to bow to the heavy burden of darkness and cower beneath its weight,
or walk free under a cleansing sky that weeps to find rebirth.
Let it wash away our worries so that we can start fresh,
lest we drown in the regrets of might-have-beens.