I could try to craft a torturous metaphor
Of the impending frost
That will reach deep into the ground
And the hearts of all things
Or I could sit in the sun
With a knife
And a bucket of onions
Onions wait for no metaphors
Gardening is bad for egos and good for onions.
For more growth and ego-puncturing, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.
Behind the mind’s curtain
Words frantically tumble
Into and out of place
That perfect combination
To transfer to duller ink
But sometimes
I just have to say-
Who’s a good boy
Who’s a very good boy?
You’re a good boy. Yes, you are.
Doggie.
For more adorable animals, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.
Wild blueberries come into season
With wild bears
A much safer gathering
Is the 50% off sale
At the local box store
(Enough cream and
You won’t even taste the
Freezerburn)
A harvest worthy of the finest southern exporters
Practicality is just as worthy a companion as romanticism. Tastes good with cream, too.
For more practicality and romanticism, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.
So many people speak of things that can’t happen
In hushed tones of sincere smugness
That we decided to soothe
One of the smaller impossibilities
A minor god
In a major pantheon of
Closed doors
Our soil – infertile
Our weather – inhospitable
The first year even the crab grass retreated
It is a slow wooing
Of small things that shouldn’t be
Manure, trellises, and time
There is bedrock beneath us
And still these small blossoms
Open their impossible hearts
Persistence is the mother of possibility
Impossible dreams must be carefully tended.
For more persistence, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.
There is something less than real
In the way the storm swells
The edges are less sharp
Blending into the undercoat
A landscape more watercolour
Than acrylic
The eye creating the distinctions
That no longer matter
The softening before the storm
I’m fascinated by the way water plays in shaping the sky and the landscape.
For more blurred horizons, my fantasy novel, The Guests of Honor, is available here. Its sequel, With Honor Intact, can be found here.
