In Contact With An Angel
Still asleep in beautiful repose
A knock I heard on my door
Guess the intruder was to the door very close
Cos at my inquiry his voice, though pale became as bold as ore
I, opening my door looked at the little God-created creature
As he stood helplessly like a log of wood
Please sire, he asked in a well-mannered nature
Can you, if you don't mind offer me some food?
God! , he was clad in a garment, so poor
And he looked so cold as snow
How could I now deny him of what he asked for?
Though yonder he came from I don't know
Please, the little stranger asked again
I know you know not me
But please help quench this hunger, this pang of pain
And I ever shall be grateful to thee
As I lay before him a luscious dinner
He looked at the delicacies turn by turn
A smile creased over his cheek like that of a winner
And before long he devoured it all one by one
And suddenly, the little boy in transfiguration turned white
Thank you for helping an angel says he to me
And in a deep bow ascended with the speed of light
And as I stood awe-struck I beheld what I had seen
Wow, I had helped a blessed creature
What a blessed creature I am, I said to myself.14: 59: 31.15/11/10
poem by Olajide Ajibola

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Two Doors
A long time ago in a land far away,
a stranger appeared from nowhere.
He had journeyed through a portal
that govern time and space.
It pulled him through to a place
of which he knew not where.
On his arrival, he was arrested
and sent before the King
who was a wise old man,
and who loved to play games.
He looked at the stranger,
asked where he had come from.
The stranger could not say.
To say he did not know
was a crime throughout the land.
It was a plea of guilty.
The King looked at the stranger and said.
The punishment for your answer
under our law is certain death.
However, you are a stranger
so I am giving you the choice of two doors.
One door leads to happiness,
the other leads to instant death.
The choice will be all yours.
You will be taken to the arena,
given a special key
that will fit both of the doors.
At the stroke of twelve,
the stranger was marched to the arena
and left standing there.
The two doors stood side by side,
all he had to do was choose.
He moved towards them
and stood for a moment of two.
Finally, he advanced towards the left,
but at the last moment,
changed his mind and opened the right.
As the door opened,
the stranger gasped at what was inside.
Did the stranger open the right door?
I will let you the reader to decide.
30 October 2007
poem by David Harris

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Origins
The plaster continues to crumble
It's because of the light!
That blasted light!
I see the floors are sinking in
In the derelict of light.
I am a creature of comfort
Because of the light!
Oh, that blasted light!
Lavish me in the finest of things
Without the curse of the light.
The horror within is now revealed
Why, because of the light.
Oh, that blasted light!
And with the darkness, my beauty is healed.
Because of the light, oh the light.
Do you find I have cause to lie?
Yes, I do.
It's because of the light!
For all that my soul is suffering
And I am a creature of night.
I am a creature of comfort
I am a creature of fright
I'm a creature of sensual pleasure
I'm a creature with just one little bite.
I am a creature of legend
I am a creature of night
I'm a creature that stalks in the shadows
I'm a creature that hides from the light.
I am a creature unwanted
I am a creature with might
I'm a creature seduced by the hunger
I'm a creature of mischief and rife.
I am a creature so sadly
I am a creature, that's right
I'm a creature without soul
As low as it goes
I'm the creature to end your life
poem by Maura Herboldsheimer

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Origins
The plaster continues to crumble
It's because of the light!
That blasted light!
I see the floors are sinking in
In the derelict of light.
I am a creature of comfort
Because of the light!
Oh, that blasted light!
Lavish me in the finest of things
Without the curse of the light.
The horror within is now revealed
Why, because of the light.
Oh, that blasted light!
And with the darkness, my beauty is healed.
Because of the light, oh the light.
Do you find I have cause to lie?
Yes, I do.
It's because of the light!
For all that my soul is suffering
And I am a creature of night.
I am a creature of comfort
I am a creature of fright
I'm a creature of sensual pleasure
I'm a creature with just one little bite.
I am a creature of legend
I am a creature of night
I'm a creature that stalks in the shadows
I'm a creature that hides from the light.
I am a creature unwanted
I am a creature with might
I'm a creature seduced by the hunger
I'm a creature of mischief and rife.
I am a creature so sadly
I am a creature, that's right
I'm a creature without soul
As low as it goes
I'm the creature to end your life
poem by Katherine Clark

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Change
The other day I walked accross the street
i couldnt believe what I appeared to see...
as I looked at a poor boy who came to me
I asked him his name and he didnt know
he just asked me for change.
I asked where is your mum?
he just asked me for change
I asked where is your dad?
he just asked me for change
I asked will someone come?
he just asked me for change
I asked why are you sad?
with no response to my question there was a pause...
but then once again he asked me for change
see, as i watched him dissapear with his pain
I realised that he actualy asked me...
for a change.
poem by Daniel McCann

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Helen and You and the Bombed Out Factory
Ought we to go in there?
Helen asked
as you both stood outside
the bombed out factory
off Rockingham Street
sure we should
you said
but it's got
STAY OUT signs
on the big doors
she said
you looked at her
with her thick lens glasses
and her hair tied in plaits
nibbling her finger in anxiety
come on in
you said
nothing will happen to you
while you're with me
she didn't look convinced
what if someone sees us?
she asked
no one cares around here
kids are always going
on bombsites
you said
she looked around
her eyes seemingly larger
than they were
are you sure?
she said
yes now come on
and you took
her small hand
and pulled her through
a small opening
in the side
where other kids
had made an entrance
she a pulled face
on the other side
of the gate
and rubbed her arm
where a line of blood showed
look
she said
I've scratched myself
you dabbed at it
with a grey handkerchief
and spittle and she watched
as you cleared up
the line of blood
will it be all right?
yes
you said
it'll be fine
and you walked on
across the yard
and into the bombed out factory by
a door hanging
on its hinges
and into the dark interior
she stood by the entrance inside
and took in the semi darkness
it's frightening
she said
no one is here
you said
how do you know?
she asked
it's too quiet
you said
she leaned closer to you
and grabbed your arm
what was that?
she whispered
a rat probably
what? she said
a rat
you said
let's go out
she said
nothing will hurt you
while I'm here
and you patted
the toy gun
in the belt
of your jeans
she looked at you
then out
into the semi darkness
you walked in
and up the stone stairs
by a wall
and she followed
her breathing
becoming louder
as you walked up
once at the top
and along a landing
you came to a small office
where the door was missing
and there was a hole
in the roof where a bomb
had blown it off
as well as other parts
of the building
you stood
looking around
the room
where rain had rotted
what furniture remained
and on the floor
were books soaked
and rotting
Helen said
can we go now?
you looked up
through the hole
in the roof
and there
was the afternoon sun
and a white cloud
moving slowly across
a blue sky
and she moved
next to you
and kissed your cheek
but you didn't know why.
poem by Terry Collett

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Janice and You and the Spider
You stood
in the playground
of St Jude's school
which was really
the basement
of a bombed out house
which had been gutted
and the basement tarmaced
and the walls
were still there
where kids climbed up
and around
the thin ledge
when Janice
put her hands
over your eyes
and said
guess who?
and you put
your hands
into the pockets
of your short trousers
and said
Miss Murphy
or Miss Ashdown?
no
Janice said
it's me
and she removed
her hands
from over your eyes
and you turned around
and looked at her
and she had
her red beret on
and a pink scarf
around her neck
to keep out
the cold
you must
have known
it was me
she said
who else
would put their hands
over your eyes?
her eyes were bright
and you thought
you could see yourself
in them
as if they were small mirrors
Jupp might do
or maybe Carmody
you said smiling
she didn't smile back
but pulled her lips
tight in a line
then she took your hand
and pulled you
along the path
that led
to the school toilets
and pushed you
inside a cubicle
and shut the door
behind you both
and said
don't you love me?
there was a large spider
hanging from
the cistern chain
close to
her red beret
and it hung there
suspended
swaying back
and forth
and you said
of course I do
right down
to your white socks
but there's a spider
above your head
and she looked up
and screamed
and a voice
outside the door
asked
are you all right
in there?
Janice's eyes widened
and she watched
as the spider
moved up the chain
and she said
yes it's all right
Miss Murphy
just a small spider
and you stood there
next to Janice
wondering what
Miss Murphy
would say
if she saw you
and Janice
in the lavatory
together
and the voice said
ok as long
as you
are all right
and the footsteps
moved away
and Janice took
your hand in hers
and you sensed
how cold it was
slightly blue
and it was just
9 year old Janice
and the big spider
and 9 year old you.
poem by Terry Collett

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With all glitters
She knocked the gate
Stood out side and preferred to wait
I was fast asleep and dreamed about her
Where as she was out side with gentle smile there
Another gentle knock and I was troubled
As if someone had really struggled
To enter the life from back door
Here she was out side but waiting to be in door
I rushed at the gate to see the stranger
But found beautiful moon with no anger
She might have waited for long
But I was dreaming unconsciously wrong
"Will you not let me in" she enquired
I replied apologetically and simple offered
Free passage with forced smile on face
As it was feared some thing else
"I am here to be with you" she gently smiled
I knew it can't be anything else with nice style
In dream I was dancing in club with her on floor
Where as she was worried and stood at the door
"I hope you have made up mind and got ready"
I had conveyed it number of times and was steady
There was no question of sending her back at night
She has now taken the decision and she must be simply right
We had seen many ups and down with indecisions
It was now right time to be seen together with relation
We were honest enough to weigh pro and cons from all aspects
Now it was needed to give fair signal with all the acts
It was moon light month with all glitters
Stars and sky were the witness to be looked after
They were our natural alley and stood side by
She was in jovial mood now to give fair try
We have no more reasons to explain it to anybody
As it is our own affair and we needed nobody
We both looked at each other and greeted
I had only pretty eyes to look at and feted
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal

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The Palmed Heart
I knocked on the door of her soul
peered into its window
tried to see her there at the table
where she sits each day;
I listened for her heart beats
tried to divine her secret place
her mystery needs.
But no;
my trek and voyeurism
came to naught;
she kept all her secrets in her pillow keep
and I had at last
to knock her door
and wait for her to turn the lock
peer out
and ask
'Hi, do I know you? '
She did not; but my eyes had fixed her
many times
and she knew them, their gaze.
She looked at me-
looked at my eyes-
beginning to slowly recognize
they had sought her many times.
I hoped they could speak for me
that they could communicate what words could not convey.
But, I could only stand there and allow proximity
to inveigh what I could not, make my silence speak;
place my soul in the palm of my hand
for long seconds
while she looked and looked
a puzzle-stranger at her door.
She finally said.
'Come in, have something to drink; I have made some tea.
I think she recognized me finally
as someone who from afar
had given her their heart
and she was kind enough
not to slam the door
on it
and I.
It was not love
but kindness here
but that dear reader
is what allows True Love in the door
and she did.
And that was the main thing I needed to know about her
and that was what made me love her.
first from afar
and now
up close.
poem by Lonnie Hicks

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Love And A Question
A stranger came to the door at eve,
And he spoke the bridegroom fair.
He bore a green-white stick in his hand,
And, for all burden, care.
He asked with the eyes more than the lips
For a shelter for the night,
And he turned and looked at the road afar
Without a window light.
The bridegroom came forth into the porch
With, 'Let us look at the sky,
And question what of the night to be,
Stranger, you and I.'
The woodbine leaves littered the yard,
The woodbine berries were blue,
Autumn, yes, winter was in the wind;
'Stranger, I wish I knew.'
Within, the bride in the dusk alone
Bent over the open fire,
Her face rose-red with the glowing coal
And the thought of the heart's desire.
The bridegroom looked at the weary road,
Yet saw but her within,
And wished her heart in a case of gold
And pinned with a silver pin.
The bridegroom thought it little to give
A dole of bread, a purse,
A heartfelt prayer for the poor of God,
Or for the rich a curse;
But whether or not a man was asked
To mar the love of two
By harboring woe in the bridal house,
The bridegroom wished he knew.
poem by Robert Frost

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Halloween Quartet No 4 It’s Only Halloween
Outside my bedroom door,
I heard the scratching of its claws
wanting to get into my sanctuary.
Its growl was low and chilling
that my neck hairs stood on end
as it returned to scratching once more.
I lay there in my bed too fearful to move
wondering what hellish creature wanted to get in.
I watched the handle turn;
my heartbeat echoed in my ears,
fright stole my voice
as I lay there in my fears.
A slice of light cut the room into two.
I sank beneath the covers hoping not to be seen,
then a voice spirited around me
as someone pulled the sheet from my bed.
She stood there in ghostly white
and my wife screamed at me.
“Get up you big sissy it’s only Halloween.”
31 October 2009
poem by David Harris

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Love-ache
when I asked my heart, how it is ready, to fall in love again?
And why it is not, asking for my consent? It asked: can anything but love cure the pain. And can a flower, even if possessed by many ever lose it's scent?
When I asked my eyes, how they can admire beauty just yet!
And if it has been, long enough for them to forget! ! They said their last tears have just cleared their sight and that they were now ready to fight. beauty is everywhere they said with hope, admiring it will only help us cope.
When I asked my mind, how it could be thinking of another, this soon! ! It looked at me sad but with a smile of wisdom and said when the sun leaves the stars cheer up the moon! ! My ignorant youth rushes to say: starlights will never threaten the moon in any way. and once again it looked at me sad but with a smile of wisdom and said some stars are shinier than others, and sometimes we have to believe in miracles.
poem by Ayesha Sartawi

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How And Why
It was mid afternoon and not a cloud in the sky
The wind started acting up
I couldn’t understand why.
Then the rain started coming down
Heavy as can be
But it was only raining upon me.
twenty feet all around, outside of that
Not a dropp to be found.
How is this possible?
Is it that I’m dreaming?
And in my dream, this is what I’m seeing?
I looked up and down the street
And the cars were all dry.
I looked up again and the sky was clear blue
I just stood there not knowing what to do.
I felt someone or some thing touch my shoulder
And I spun completely around
But there was no one to be found.
I looked around again and the rain
Was still coming down
Then I heard a voice, an unfamiliar sound.
I have heard you, when you was praying at night
That you asked to bless all children
When ever in sight.
The children are blessed every second
Of every day, but your prayers
Help them, as they go on their way.
So continue your prayers and
Get the message To all mankind:
They are killing the earth
And there’s no reason why.
poem by Louis Rams

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The Space Heater
On the then-below-zero day, it was on,
near the patients' chair, the old heater
kept by the analyst's couch, at the end,
like the infant's headstone that was added near the foot
of my father's grave. And it was hot, with the almost
laughing satire of a fire's heat,
the little coils like hairs in Hell.
And it was making a group of sick noises-
I wanted the doctor to turn it off
but I couldn't seem to ask, so I just
stared, but it did not budge. The doctor
turned his heavy, soft palm
outward, toward me, inviting me to speak, I
said, "If you're cold-are you cold? But if it's on
for me..." He held his palm out toward me,
I tried to ask, but I only muttered,
but he said, "Of course," as if I had asked,
and he stood up and approached the heater, and then
stood on one foot, and threw himself
toward the wall with one hand, and with the other hand
reached down, behind the couch, to pull
the plug out. I looked away,
I had not known he would have to bend
like that. And I was so moved, that he
would act undignified, to help me,
that I cried, not trying to stop, but as if
the moans made sentences which bore
some human message. If he would cast himself toward the
outlet for me, as if bending with me in my old
shame and horror, then I would rest
on his art-and the heater purred, like a creature
or the familiar of a creature, or the child of a familiar,
the father of a child, the spirit of a father,
the healing of a spirit, the vision of healing,
the heat of vision, the power of heat,
the pleasure of power.
poem by Sharon Olds

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The Stranger (story)
(story 03/14/11)
I saw a man coming down the road
Head held high, eyes were strong.
He stopped and asked of me
If he could have a bite to eat.
His clothes were all torn and tattered
I asked him what was the matter.
He looked at me and his eyes turned down
His face changed from a smile to a frown.
Hard times I have come across
I was let go by my boss
He said the times was making him downsize
And he had to let go of people to survive.
Everyone was doing the same
People losing their jobs was quite a shame.
Being a farmer who had hard times too
I knew exactly what he was going thru.
So I invited him inside to sit for a spell
For traveling these roads could really be hell.
He was given some soup to take
the chill out of his bones
And was told by the farmer that he wasn’t alone.
He was then given some dinner to eat
To this man it was quite a treat.
The farmer told him he could bathe and
stay the night - and if he wanted to leave
He could leave at first light.
He laid out some pajamas for him to wear
Even gave him some clean underwear.
The bed in the spare room was “ oh so nice”
And he slept peacefully throughout the night.
When he awoke there was breakfast on the table
Coffee, ham and eggs, and cream cheese on a bagel.
After having breakfast he felt like a new man
He looked for the farmer to shake his hand.
He thanked the farmer and asked him his name
He pointed to a wooden nameplate which said:
J. CHRISTHISSON- but some call me J.C.
He then told him he put a fresh set of clothes
On his backpack, turned around and didn’t look back.
So he put on his new clothes and out the door he went
Thinking that this man was heaven sent.
As he walked a mile down the road
He felt guilty that he didn’t thank him properly
For being so kind to a man in need.
He ran back to the farm house and knocked at the door
To be greeted by someone he had never saw.
“I am looking for the farmer who owns this place! ”
That would be me! What can I do for you?
He said: no! that can not be! It was a younger
Man, not as elderly with a beard and shoulder length hair.
He gave me dinner and invited me in, let me bathe
And to have a good nights sleep, then gave
Me these clothes and breakfast to eat.
I don’t see how here you could have stayed
When my wife and I were in another county far away.
But there has been stories going around
About someone helping people when their luck was down.
As he said that - the strangers back pack fell
to the ground, and he heard a clatter.
The man looked at him and asked what was the matter.
He opened his backpack and a wooden name plate fell to the ground
And broke in three- when he looked he could not believe what he saw.
The three parts said: J.CHRIST-HIS-SON
And a cross and rosary laid alongside with a note with one word.
HOPE
Now who could this man have been?
poem by Louis Rams

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The Key
I feel I've been this way before,
Like stepping thru an open
door.
The door was shut, locked up
tight,
Darkness was there, instead
of light.
I looked and looked for the key,
Someone kept hiding it from
me.
Then one day, I turned around,
The key was lying on the
ground.
With key in hand, unlocked the
door,
Inside I started to explore.
poem by Heather Burns

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The Unicorn
As I wandered through the woods one night,
I stumbled upon a most magnificent sight.
It was an hour or so, before the break of dawn,
That, in a moonlit clearing, I spied a Unicorn.
Hidden behind a tree, I stood and stared;
To reveal myself to him, I did not dare.
In the grassy clearing, he stood and grazed,
As I stood there watching him, in a daze.
Of the Unicorn’s beauty, I was in total awe;
He was the most majestic creature I ever saw.
His coat was as white as freshly fallen snow,
And, it had to it, a pearlescent, luminous glow.
His flickering ears were alerted by every sound;
At the tiniest whisper, his head turned around.
His golden, spiral horn stood at least a foot long;
Heaven help the creature who does him wrong!
The moon shone in his large, dark, reflective eyes.
Although he seemed so gentle, he seemed so wise.
His long, soft, shiny mane was just like ‘angel hair’;
Curled around his neck and shoulders, it flowed there.
His hooves, like his horn, were of burnished gold.
He really was the most beautiful sight to behold.
Suddenly, he galloped off into the surrounding mist.
Now, having seen a Unicorn, I know that they do exist.
poem by Angela Wybrow

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Bible in Poetry: Revelation 6
The Seals:
1As I was watching Lamb open
The first of seven seals, by then,
I heard one of the creatures four
Utter in voice like thunder, 'Come! '
2 I looked, and there before me stood
A horse, all white! rider with bow;
He was given a crown, and then,
He rode out like a conqueror,
With mind and heart, on conquest bent.
3When Lamb opened the second seal,
The second creature said then, 'Come! '
4 A fiery horse, all red came out!
And to its rider was given,
The pow’r to take off peace from earth,
And make men slay one another.
To him was given a large sword.
5When Lamb opened the third seal then,
I heard the third creature say, 'Come! '
I looked, and there before me stood
A horse, all black! Its rider held
A pair of scales in his one hand.
6And then, I heard a voice amongst
The four living creatures, saying,
'A quart of wheat for a day's wage;
Three quarts of barley, for a day's wage;
Do not damage the oil and wine! '
7When Lamb opened the fourth seal then,
I heard the fourth creature say, 'Come! '
8 I looked, and lo, before me stood,
A horse, all pale! rider named Death;
Hades followed him, closely behind.
They’ere given the power to kill,
Over a fourth of the earth’s men,
By sword, plague, famine, and wild beasts.
9 And when He opened the fifth seal,
I saw under the altar, souls
Of those, who had been slain because
Of testimony to God’s Word,
That they ‘ad maintained until their end.
10They all called out in loud a voice,
'How long, Lord, Sovereign, holy, true,
Until You judge the earth’s peoples,
Avenging blood of ours, they shed? '
11 Each one received a robe of white,
And told to wait a bit longer,
Until the number of fellow
Servants and brothers to be killed,
Was completed as expected.
12 And when He opened the sixth seal,
There was a great earthquake on earth.
The sun had turned so black, as if
It was a sack-cloth of goat-hair,
And moon in full had turned blood-red,
13 And stars from sky fell onto earth,
Like late figs dropping from fig-tree,
When shaken by a strong, fierce wind.
14 The sky then rolled up like a scroll,
And every mountain and island,
Was taken off its place on globe.
15The earth’s kings, princes and generals,
The rich, the mighty, and all slaves,
And every free man hid in caves,
And ’mongst the rocks of the mountains.
16They called the mountains and the rocks,
'Oh, fall on us and hide us please,
From face of Him, who sits on throne,
And from the wrath of Lamb of God!
17For, Day of wrath great has now come,
And who can ever, ever stand? '
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-14-2007
poem by John Celes

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I Looked All Around
I looked all around and asked: is this all there is?
What in the world do I have to give?
I looked around and I saw the beauties of the trees
And then I heard the humming of the bees.
I looked around and I saw the rivers and the streams
Then I thought- life is not what it seems.
We have four legged animals running all around
Every conceivable creature I know can be found.
We have birds of flight, with their wings of might
My oh my! What a glorious sight.
Creatures that crawl above and below the ground
Some are quiet, while others make some sounds.
Then I looked at the ocean and it was
A beautiful bluish green
A sight which had to be seen.
Then I looked up to the skies
And watched the clouds floating by.
The sun a bright yellowish white
What a beautiful sight.
I thought again: what do I have to give?
And a thought flashed through my mind
The LORD made all this beauty that I see
But the most beautiful thing he made was you and me.
He gave us a shell which we call a body
And we walk straight and tall.
Then he gave us a soul, a brain, and a heart.
And this was the start.
He told us that we could use all three
It depends on you and me.
With this he added one more thing “ choice”.
A Brain to decide which way to go
A Soul with every feeling known to man
This was all of GODS plan.
Then he gave us the Heart to store all the feelings
That the soul did hold.
What do I have to give?
The answer is plain to see
I give my love to GOD
And then humanity.
poem by Louis Rams

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What Others May Think.
Apart from the water tower
and the farm
and a few scattered cottages
there were no other buildings
for a mile or more
just you and Jane
and birds in the early morning sky
I like it at this time of day
she said
I like the fresh smell of nature
and the farm
and having few people about
you walked beside her down the lane
that led away from the farm
you noticed how her black hair
seemed freshly washed
and blew slightly in the mild wind
does you father mind
you being out with me?
you asked softly
he doesn't know
she replied
he thinks I came out alone
for a morning walk
why didn't you tell him?
you asked
he was busy writing his Sunday sermon
and it was easier to just go out
and not disturb him
she said looking around at you
her eyes studying you
as she walked on down the lane
would he mind you being with me?
you asked
I don't think he knows you as yet
seeing as you have only moved here
a few months and don't come
to the church
you stopped and took her hand in yours
it was warm and soft
and pulsed with life
she looked at your hand
holding hers and she rubbed
her thumb over the back
of your hand
you wanted to kiss her lips
or cheek just to feel
her flesh on yours
but you didn't you just looked at her
and waited to see
what she would do next
she let go of your hand
and looked around her
there might be people looking
from those cottages up there
she said suddenly pointing up
at the rising bank which went up
to two cottages high up
if they see us they may tell Father
and then it would be awkward
and he might suspect things
and then she went quiet
and looked at the running stream
by the lane
but we haven't done anything
we just walk out and talk
and hold hands now and then
it's not what we do
it's what others think we do
she said softly
and stood looking at you
waiting for you to speak
but you said nothing
just leaned in close to her
and kissed her cheek
and said
even Christ permitted kisses
even the one from Judas
and she smiled
and the early morning sun
pushed through trees
and shone on her hair
and there was the sound of birds
singing in the air.
poem by Terry Collett

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The Hero Entering The Beast's Lair
Standing outside the door,
the hero hears the sound of a monstrous creature taking massive breaths.
But he,
in white robes,
hesitates only to draw his sword.
Onward he marches.
The White Sword shining, almost glowing in his hand,
the breathing now nearly crushing the hero's heart and soul,
yet he continues.
Onward he marches.
The cold stone of the beast's lair slithering with water,
the door opening before him,
the thought of the beast that breathed those breathes plagues the hero's mind.
Still, he presses on.
Onward he marches.
The icy air penetrating his garments,
the door now closing behind him,
the creature,
a dragon,
now emerges from the fog.
Fiery Red eyes scorch everything they touch.
Yet, despite the horror before him,
the hero continues on.
poem by Jon McIntosh

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