Tilted Tales (my personal challenge to complete 150 poems in 90 days, to be published when complete) is coming along nicely, and received some lovely feedback from my writers groups. There were a few skeptics- but not everyone likes fantasy, and even more do not like my odd sense of dark humor. But, as proof I am working, I offer a sneak peak at a piece that will make it into the book.
Starlight dots brush midnight sky
where winged creatures freely fly.
For he who dare not risk the day
darkness lends to covered play.
Far from prying eyes of men
enchanted trees surround the glen.
It’s there where nests the magic beast.
The fragile egg not woodland feast,
but celebrated more than gold;
the beastie’s life worth price untold.
A single hair can cure all ails
even when physician fails.
A feather may great fortune bring,
while peace fills those who hear it sing.
Born only once each hundred years
to turn the wheel of living gears.
Magic flows within its heart
and grows again from beastie’s start.
There magic life begins anew,
a gift that’s earned by noble few.
To those who’d hunt it be forewarned:
fate will see your whole line scorned.
‘Tis best when likes of men stay clear
from precious beastie oh so dear.