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I am an amateur writer and photographer navigating my way through a vast world of poetry, prose and inspiration. Three of my written works are scheduled for publishing come February. At present, I am working on having my first children's book illustrated and published. Illustrations are to begin in December, and my illustrator is none other than Aidana WillowRaven Illustration & Design Plus.

My journey through writing began a little more than 2-years-ago in a little online cafe. I spent much time bantering back and forth with many friend's and acquaintances on the other side of the pond. It was during this time that I fell in love with words. The whole of my life on God's green earth, I had never before been inclined to pick up a pen to write anything other than checks!

Although I will not feign being a writer wielding a magic pen, I can promise you that Harold's Purple Crayon has got nuttin' over me. Okay, so I had to inject a bit of humor in here somewhere. Most of my writes are nothing more than creative energy escaping the chambers of my mind where they would otherwise be held hostage by the mad hatter. Ahem, that would be me.

I have an insatiable yearning to learn, and I mean to learn anything and everything. It matters not the height nor depth and breadth of complexity, I'm just stubborn enough to wrestle the problematic to its knees long enough to take notes and compose a cheat sheet!

I leave you with this and hope you'll return, rather than run for the hills.

An artist, with brush and palette brushes a landscape across a blank canvas with sundry hues and strokes being the venue by which a tale of beauty or chaos unfolds before curious eyes. A seasoned wordsmith accomplishes the same via strings of characters strewn atop empty pages previously void of meaning.

We all have within us the power to stir flickering embers of adversity, or quench the heat of fiery flames.

A writer, with pen in hand beckons the mind's eye to explore uncharted waters, or anchors the imagination to barren shores.

The magic of ink unwittingly causes a giggle to escape pursed lips in the quiet of a room, or send a tear streaming down flushed cheeks.

Words whisk you away on a journey through the whimsical and adventures to the mystical.

A fountain pen has the ability to spring forth life anew, or plunge the human spirit to its very death.

With quill in hand, mankind has been known to take an adamant stand against anything and everything, and by the same token, compel masses to yield to popular demand of the day.

Pen set to paper in proper form will undoubtedly invite the reader to step safely outside of comfort zones to soar beyond preset boundaries.

Words have the uncanny ability to inspire the heart of man to seek after, and embrace an otherwise impossible dream, or become a gentle nudge opening flood gates which allows pent up emotions to flow freely.

Ink is a lowly prisoner to the mind of the master at work, words glimpsing up from pages into the eyes of the reader, often enrapturing their very heart and soul.

Strangers become one between the pages of a book saturated with sentiments-even if, for a brief moment in time.

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My passion is ...

I'm not at all certain.

I know too much about ...

nonsensical things and not enough about matters of importance.

My parents always told me ...

I talk too much...

My childhood ambition ...

To grow up and still be alive!

My favorite memory ...

The birth of my son...

Why I write ...

Sybil makes me do it!

What I am reading/watching/listening to ...

Everlasting by Kathleen Woodiwiss

My first job ...

Working at Hayband packing old men ties.

My best moment ...

Seeing the smile on my son's face when he caught his first fish...

My inspiration ...

I don't rightly know...

Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Twilight

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Twilight mist drizzle dewdrop kisses upon clay
as forlorn creaking of tattered limbs thirst new life,
and frosted green blades beneath oak's canopy lay

dormant...

Night prowlers fall victim to ravenous birds of prey
as hollowed trees echo crickets' combative chirps,
and frosted green blades beneath oak's canopy lay

dormant...

Croaks repulse serpents while in shadows they stay
as forelimbs swoop on wind's wings marking echoes,
and frosted green blades beneath oak's canopy lay

dormant...

Sunlight's affection kisses dawning eyes with warming rays
as songsters twitter a melodious sym...

More..