Daughter of the Ebon Flame


in the beginning
there was dark
the only sound
was the thrumming
of the blood in my ears
a primordial rhythm
a fanfare and funeral march
announcing my mortal birth
and my immortal death
as the atoms of star dust aligned
and the seeds of love were sown
into the furrows of striated muscle
my armor was forged in the kiln of my soul
by a dark fire
by Her
clement hands
and She lives there still

Daughter of the Ebon Flame

She is
a fragment of creation
the first time my heart loved
and I feel
Her gravity
every single day

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The Lady of the Forest…

252cf274fcefb777c65f868fa52d90f7The first time I met her
She wore a gown of brilliant pastels
verdant and bright
I watched butterflies dance
in the center of her heart
like living gems
she wore a crown
of apple blossoms as I played
on a carpet of wildflowers
beneath her feet
unable to speak
I could not find the words
to describe her

The next time I met her
She wore a gown of deepest green
soft velvet and rich tones
of midday heat
I crawled into her loving arms
and she rocked me
in her cooling shade
night birds sang me a lullaby
as she wore a crown of stars
high above her head
and when it was time
to make my way back
the dappled moonlight and fireflies
would light my way

The next time I met her
She wore a gown of scarlet
tongues of flame
dripped down from
her Auburn hair
her breath
washed over me
as I knelt
in the sea of fire at her feet
with head bowed
I asked her to take this chill
from my bones
She wore a crown of gold
on a throne of brown
I lay my burdens on the moist litterfall
and for a while
I warmed myself by the fire
of her company

The last time I saw her
She wore a gown of pure white
with diamonds in her hair
as I came to her
I thought myself
an Ill-mannered oaf
no gifts did I bring
no tithe of fealty could I offer
no hope did I bring
for warmer days
and the glow of another sun
to rise on the morrow
my back was bent
my shoulders low
I wore the grey and white crown
of an older man

I came to kneel
at the foot of her throne
and once more to breathe in her beauty

I said,
“My Lady, I bring you nothing. Except the memories of you I keep in my heart.

She said,
“My Son, I am more wealthy than I could ever be…there is nothing more I need.
Because you have come home.”

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Nathalie’s fault…

So was checking my WordPress feed today…
And I came across Nathalie’s post… Plus One

and after reading Her amazing scene that she had composed about her evening out this weekend…I was inspired, by her beautiful picture.


to compose something of my own. I left it as a comment on her page. But She and I agreed that it would most certainly have a place here so here we go:

She wore a black dress, this combined with the golden brilliance of her hair…made her look like the night sky, in September…A harvest moon hanging over an ocean of stars and all the wonder and silent beauty of fall evenings…where bonfires crackled and sent embers of leaves skyward to the gods..a time when the air around you was crisp and cool and your breath made clouds in the wind…and a prickled blush would flood your cheeks..as you walked in the damp shuffle of fallen leaves….and the oaken stick gently held by the belt loop on my faded jeans was Excalibur bouncing on the hip of Arthur…she reminded me of this…..she reminded me of a time when I slew dragons. Immortal and engraved, in the fondest halls of memory…..The mere sight of her was enough to summon a spark of hope back into my heart. If she paid me no further attention than this….it would be enough.

    ..then she smiled.

So thanks to the Breathtaking Nathalie, who stepped in for my Muse for just a moment today.
It is a wonderful privilege to have such a beautifully inspiring friend as She.


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“What do you hear?” – A special Friday Phrases post on twitter


So one of my favorite things since I joined twitter ages ago has been a prompt called “Friday Phrases.”

The prompt has many curators and one of them is a Lady by the name of Adele Gray.
She has lost her eyesight recently to medical issues and she and her family have been struggling to make ends meet in a very chaotic storm of fear and doubt.

Her daughter is keeping the prompt going and asked, if we were so inclined, to do an audio recording of our Friday Phrases so that Adele might enjoy them once again.

The prompt was “What do you hear?”

Here is my contribution:

we stood there
shivering in the night air
no warm breeze of summer
brushing clouds across the moon
no springtime crickets serenaded us
our breath floating away like tiny ghosts
evaporating into the immaterial
I pressed her close to me so tightly
as if I could fuse her molecules with mine
and so doing, forestall her leaving
her arms were a titan’s embrace
across the small of my back
if it were not for the spreading
stain of salt tears across my shirt
where her face was pressed against my chest
I would have imagined her smiling
unable to bear this painful silence any longer
I asked a simple question
“what do you hear?”
and with a ragged breath
she spoke with the voice of a soul
weary of its time in this world
and answered
“the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

and here’s the tweet that I did when I recorded it. One day I’ll be able to do these things with the camera pointed at me…but for now..you’ll have to settle with looking at the paper.


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So with a heavy sigh
I took the hammer
forged in Dragonfire
and hefted it upon
my weary shoulder
and then
summoning all my deepest wishes
for her
I swung out…
with all the pain in my heart
I swung out…
with all the tears I had ever cried
in her honor
and every hopeless feeling
I had ever felt

I smashed the cogs that held her…
this clockwork Ballerina

and from that day
she would dance
at the behest of
but herself

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Evolution of a Poem…

photo by Kristina Bychkova

photo by Kristina Bychkova

So I thought I might take you through this with me…
just to illustrate how poetry can evolve and change shape
when given enough time and space.

Apparently, My Muse is fighting a battle I know nothing about…

I think I started to realize it when I wrote: Defiance
Then I felt it again when I wrote: Selene

Then once again more recently with: Opia

But it’s pretty clear when She speaks through me…and now again with this.

It started off as a Twitter post:

With watering eyes
and weeping heart
She summoned
An ember of hope
From the bloodsoaked ground
At her feet…
her fear
Took a step back

Usually, I write for the prompts…they are exercises that I enjoy doing to keep up my writing. It’s poetry practice…if you will….
But this time it was different. No prompt guided me through this one…it just came out.

140 characters wasn’t enough…and I couldn’t let it sit that way. So…..I hopped into an app I use to post things on my Instagram account. And this is what happened….

With watering eyes
and a weeping heart
She summoned forth
an ember of hope
from the blood-soaked ground
at her feet…

and for the first time
in her life
took a step back
away from her

And I left if it like that, since yesterday. But all day today…I kept feeling the nagging in the back of my mind. There needs to be a little more…it’s not finished. There is more to be said…

So we get:

With watering eyes
and a weeping heart
She summoned forth
an ember of hope
from the blood-soaked ground
at her feet…

and for the first time
in her life
took a step back
away from her

No more
would she hide
from the hounds
like the timid rabbit
huddled within the brambles

heart pounding…
that her racing pulse
might leave her dead
in the morning upon the dewy earth


She felt her teeth in her mouth
She felt her strength in her hands
She felt a roar in her throat

and then…

She sprouted wings

and I think finally, that she is satisfied…with this one anyway. Whatever is troubling her, I hope it passes quickly…and whatever I do, I will remain eternally grateful that she chooses me to express it.

Thank you all for being here with me. I really appreciate it.

All my best,


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When I passed
this pretty flower
I thought to bring it to thine heart

For all things beautiful
must attract
and in each others company so create
a world in which I wish to live

For all things beautiful
I had thought to have seen
but never so lovely as thou art

but in presentation
of such a gift
I have o’er cast my soul with shadow
and my heart skips a beat of distress

for your bowed head
and dark lashes closed
to enjoy the redolence of my gift
I have deprived myself of the world of your eyes

and in doing so
though your beauty smolders in still life
and all of nature would hold its breath to admire you in this moment
I find my spirit stands upon the tips of its toes

like that flower
upturned its face to the sun
to better grow in the warmth of love

so does my soul to thee

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Lana del Rey

Lana del Rey

The last thing I remember
was looking into the pools
of her eyes
and wanting to give her the universe
and the crushing feeling
in my heart
that I was
so badly

and while it was written
in blood
on every surface of my heart
for her to see
that I would give my life
if she asked for it
in the end
it was not


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Man at Arms…


Albrecth Altdorfer “The German Princes” c. 1512-1515

An olde knight
knelt in the fresh turned earth
sewing his seeds of rye

the biting winds gone
the winter, bitter and long
gave way to the brightest sunshine

each seed
small and brown
that he laid in the ground
was a promise of honorable worth

to his Ladye, he’d betrothed
so many seasons ago

to lay aside
the sword for
ploughshare and dirt

But on this bright, springtime day
past April’s showers
toward May
He heard a clarion horn
bright and clear

dusting the earth
from his knees
he stood up
and in the distance, he sees
that which had pulled at his ear

a caravan made way
under banners that swayed
dancing in the sunshine and breeze

These standards were famed
and on shields were the names
of many he fought long beside

and he couldn’t deny
that something deep down inside
made him want to be there
on that ride

from behind him
a sound
very low to the ground
made him turn away from the sight

and as she stood there
in the dirt with bare feet
he smiled with the warmest delight

“Daddy where do they go?”
She wanted to know
“These knights with their horses so pretty.”

“Do they ride to a war?
Do they ride to a feast?
Do they go to the Keep in the city?”

He knelt down
and gathered her up in his arms
and hefted her onto his shoulder

Nothing made him so happy
Nothing made him so proud
And she made him forget he’d grown older

“My daughter, so fair
with your long flaxen hair
Nothing about you is plain

Perhaps to a faire
perhaps to a battle
perhaps there’s a dragon to be slain”

“Oh then, they should take you!
with all the dragons you slew
especially that one under the bed!”

and he laughed to himself
and considered his wealth
as her tiny hand patted his head

then he set her down
and took a knee to the ground
and looked in her deep dark brown eyes

and it’s there that he knows
wealth more than glory or gold
than can ever be found in a prize



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wp-1484940844164.jpgI need to write about her
I need to describe the way
the warmth of her fingers
etch patterns on
foggy windows
a portrait of my heart
in “cleared away condensation”
how it seems
she molded it
from a primordial beginning
when it was
a speck of stardust and earth
I need you to understand
that I hear her
in everything
and I need
to talk about
the last time I saw her
all those lifetimes ago
when the light of the sun
danced in her hair
and a glittering
road of fire
on the surface of the water
showed the path she would take
to the horizon
to go

*photo credit: I have no idea. but She’s beautiful.

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