A Raven’s Call at Midnight’s hour

. . . . .A dragon’s roar in deepest night

. . . . .A wolf’s howl at full moon

A child’s awe at the twinkling of Stars of bright

. . . . .Somethings seem so contrary

. . . . .Let all are one in Nature’s eyes

A moment spend in wonder

A silent link to ages past……


Cassandra’s Lament.

It is the knowing that hurts,

cuts, and slices to the soul.

It is my gift, my curse.

This knowing before,

a word or thought,

is formed and delivered.

It is the knowing the hurts,

cuts, and slices to the soul.


A lifetime

played according to rules

never spoken

subscribed to beliefs

never understood.


Lead by the hand to Charon’s dock

with rubies flowing dripping pooling

at the Ferryman’s feet.


No coin for payment

thrown into Death’s river

surrounded by  Styx’s icy embrace.


Washed and reborn

with Hades’ kiss…..