Quill #93 - Dreams of You (1974)

When witches on brooms
Creep into my room
And the skies are darkest blue,
I become a fairy child
With magic that is strong and wild
And go to visit you.

I chant a spell ages old,
Wave a wand as bright as gold,
And you know I'm here.
Turn in circles just three times,
Say a mystic magic rhyme,
And I have you near.

Spirits wander in and out,
Magic spreading all about,
And you belong to me.
Misting and fading ere long,
Spell now almost gone,
And there's nothing more to see.

Then I'm back in bed
Where I shake my head
And all has been a dream of night.
Lightning from the skies,
I slowly realize,
And I wonder if I'm right...

...That all the magic was my love for you.

(image from Dover)

Quill #78 - Guest (2010)

I couldn't see,
The room so dark there were no shadows.
Three globes of light rose from the floorboards,
Hovered two feet from my face.
My heart tattered in my chest;
My mouth hollowed.
I didn't blink once.
And, moments later,
The lights floated slowly toward the door.
For a few seconds, they left me in blackness,
Then I saw a gentle glow from
The other side of the door,
Luminescent yellow, which slowly faded.
There was no light source anywhere
To create such a display.
And when I told my hostess,
The next morning,
She scoffed at me.
She knew her house was haunted,
But didn't believe I could have seen anything.
In her mind, apparently,
She was the only living person
Allowed to perceive oddities.

Quill #67 - Matter (2010, for Rae)

Her name, though pretty,
Didn't matter.
She was beautiful,
Both body and spirit,
Didn't matter.
She was talented and smart
And that mattered,
But those weren't the
Reasons.
They just helped her express what
Really was important
About her life,
About everything.
Being religious intrigued her,
Believing in God was vital to her.
And these things helped her deal,
So they mattered,
But they were only
Tools she
Needed to keep going.
And she knew
What mattered in her life.
She was an inspiration
To keep others from despair.
Her spirit was the
Crux of the matter,

And still is.

She's alive.
Thank God!
And she matters.

Miracle Needed, Desperately.

http://www.chronicletimes.com/story/1550620.html

http://www.spencerdailyreporter.com/story/1581991.html

http://www.stormlakepilottribune.com/story/1585591.html

I have only met Zailin once and do not know his family well. The family members who offer him a place to stay when he visits Omaha for medical treatment are dear friends of mine. That is how I have become interested in Zailin and his family.

I have been told that Zailin's time is drawing to an end. The tumor has always been inoperable, but now their time is short, too. There is no power on earth that can save this little boy, or his family.

His parents have asked for healing. If you believe in the power of spirit, of prayer, of anything outside yourself, please ask for healing for Zailin and his family. Only a miracle can save them.

Please help heal Zailin and his family.

Quill #58 - Help Wanted (2001)

Quill #36 - Tarnish (2010)

I brush away memory
Of grit, a ghost of sand, once
Present while shaping this stone
Forming the castle archway.

Built by distant relative,
An earl no more remembered,
Who passed this graceful eyesore,
Not one farthing for its care,
To child who died without heirs.

Strangers own it now, run as
An hotel sans doorknocker.
Traffic, night and day, circles
Like moat, or carrion birds,
Living off long-dead spoilage
And seasonal spillover.

The must reeks with decayed hopes,
Invading my mouth, my mind,
Poisoning the fresh drink of
Curiosity I brought
To share with a caring friend.

My hand drops and looks exchange.
Silently agreeing to
Not inhale any spirits,
We go seeking sweeter airs.