Still defining Saoirse's Night walker skin. Coming along alright, but not quite right. Any way, back to fixing the website.
The following poems are randomly selected from part B of the Garden series.
If you are patient, the whole story may appear. There is a doorway on this site, that will open to the poetry collection, both in context and complexity.
Refuge (A letter from Emalf)Well, the Eleven have broken camp, as have the force of Tender. Stroke of luck with the tempest, and Saracere. Maybe, the Only One has his hand in this after all.
He Calls Me SlothThe Master, he calls me Sloth,
QuietudeThe Eleven broke camp, all was quiet.
SoIt has happened once again, as it has done every millennium or so. The Great One, has means in his ways. These wars, of total annihilation, act as a cleansing process.
RealityThe Dihpa have scoured the countryside,
Kindaal's LureThe sole surviving Wigrae returned,