like Cool Water




whether for Love,  or Truth




 or The Wisdom that grows from Both,  it is Our Intimacy with

­OurSelves that defines the Essence of Our Character,  which,

after All,  is The Sum,  of All that We have to give,  to Our Path,

to Our Purpose,  and to Our Passion,  and if We dare to call

 OurSelves Writers,  We must find The Fortitude necessary

within Us,  to illuminate The World around Us,  through

 the endless Pursuit,  and Refinement,  of Our Craft,

yes,  Our Love of Writing,  is Love of Truth, 

and Love of Truth is ultimately,

      The Point . . .




from Book II,  The Sword ( Second Sound ) The Eighth DoveTale – The Destiny of Kings



wrought, from a Potter’s Wheel



A Caliber,  of Craft

(  of Pen,  or Sword  )



There are Poets,  those who dance,  with Words,

when Thought and Deed,  are not Enough,  and

there are Empires to build,  or lost Dreams

     wait,  to live inside Their Walls . . .


There are Poets,  who walk,  where Echoes go to

die,  knowing The Winds blow,  by The Names

of Patience and Longing,  or a Muse,  who

     answers,  to One and The Same . . .


There are Poets,  who teach Wisdom,  to Reason,

finding Truth in Both,  as They lay Our Hearts

down to rest,  upon a Leaf,  upon a Wave,

     upon a Sea,  Once upon a Time . . .


There are Poets,  who hold within Their Arms,  A

Breath of Understanding,  wrapped in a Cloak

of Simplicity,  to be left on The Doorstep,

     of The Child,  within Us,  All . . .



 from Book II,  The Sword ( Second Sound ) The Third DoveTale – The Rail of Sighs