Meld and melt upon this stoop...

This moon is where our hearts both met!...

And now, out-lined, this living truth...

That with you I am never left

with empty hands, and broken plans...

...I always have my shining star

that shimmers like a pond toad’s back...

My hungry habits thrust and crack,

but always balk at glory’s light...

...They wither into dust tonight.

I love and need, and love you more

beneath that moon where once before

we held our faces up so proud

that we had rose up from the ground,

and made some sense of sundry points...

...Drawing you close, all of my joints

become alive, and thus on fire

where wild gusts of wind expire

the day that is so barely here...

...But as for us, we will not veer

from what we know to be our end...

...Take me inside, I’ll compliment

that ache within your hungry heart.

©

8/8/19

The horn-shaped shell blew a low, gentle hmmmmmm into the darkness as he waited, unsure of why he chose to believe the tales now. Surely no one could hear a single shell blast from anywhere across the Seven Seas.

After only a heartbeat, though, the waves began to swirl in a furious fashion and from their midst rose an epic ship, encased in algae and dripping with salt water. The Sea Witch was real!

Excited now, he rushed into the water and dove in, swimming without hesitation towards its bow. As he reached the port side, a rope ladder softly fell down towards him and he climbed up, careful not to let his hooves slip or get caught.

As he reached the deck, he looked about, breathless. The ocean mist swirled about, obscuring his vision until at last it lifted and a tall, dark figure stood in its place.

From her black-laced boots up through her black coat gilded in gold, the captain of The Sea Witch stared at him with a measuring gaze. Her jet coal eyes sized him up as her plump red lips pursed together. “Who summons my vessel?” she asked, her voice deeper than the ocean itself.

Kneeling, since standing taller than such an imposing figure felt wrong, the minotaur replied, “I am Asterion, The Minotaur.”

“Only one? My, what a snowflake.” the captain smirked and pulled off her feathered tricorn hat. Beneath it her hair lay in thick tendrils, curling outwards as if alive. “What brings The Minotaur to my ship?”

“They say you grant wishes,” Asterion replied, holding his breath.

“Maybe. They also say the earth is flat.” She laughed and the ship seemed to shake with her mirth. “What wish would you make?”

“I wish to be human,” Asterion looked up with sad desire in his deep brown eyes.

“But there is only one Minotaur. Why lose such a unique title?” She raised an eyebrow at him, her smile seeming to understand but her silence forcing him to speak his truth aloud.

“I am lonely. I...I wish to befriend someone.”

“Befriend? Surely your horns don’t hold you back from befriending anyone.”

“I want him to love me,” Asterion blurted, his words falling out in order to keep from being shut inside by his rising panic. “He could never love me as a monster.”

“He? How interesting.” Walking around him as he continued to kneel, she reached out here and there to touch his shoulder, his horns, his back. “Who is this poor fool that fails to see your potential?”

“Theseus.” the minotaur said softly.

“Really? Well, at least he’s Greek, honey - I suppose you’ve got a chance.” Standing before him again she folded her arms. “If they say I grant wishes, do they also say what they cost?”

Nodding solemnly, the minotaur answered, “I’m prepared to pay for this wish.”

“And what would you pay?”

He paused. “I...I have no money. What would you take?”

Rubbing her chin thoughtfully, the captain finally snapped her fingers. “Your strength. You will give me all the beautiful, bull-headed strength that you possess. In return, I’ll remove your horns and give you what you desire. But be warned.” A CRACK of lightning suddenly struck the sea as they clouds grew dark. “You have but one week to woo your lover. If he does not accept you in your new form, then you forfeit your humanity - and will spend the rest of your days as part of my crew.”

Another CRACK of lightning lit up the ship and illuminated the shadows around them. Suddenly Asterion could see glimpses of misshapen figures hidden in the gloom - including a hunchback aloft in the rigging, a dark-skinned beauty with toad-like scales, a fierce-looking warrior from the east, and what appeared to be a masked gorgon, until Asterion realized the snakes were just severely curly hair. They watched silently, staring at him but not saying a word or betraying a single emotion. He wondered if they still retained their souls.

Swallowing his fear, Asterion held his head high. “I accept your price, captain. Please. Grant me my wish.”

The sky cleared abruptly as the captain cackled in delight. “Excellent! A deal is a deal.” At a snap from her fingers a strange little blue creature crawled over, handing her a parchment and two pens in three different hands. “Now then to make it official sign here and we’re done.” After quickly scriving her own name on the page she handed it over.

His handwriting clumsy, but readable, Asterion signed on the dotted line. The parchment seemed to glow briefly, then faded to black. Ripping it from his hands the captain tucked it into her coat pocket.

“Very well, Asterion. At sunrise tomorrow you shall gain new life as a fair little human. And at sunset on the seventh day I shall return - on land or sea - to claim you when you have failed.” Her smile widened, revealing rows of jagged teeth laced with gold and sea glass.

“I won’t fail,” Asterion swore, rising to his hooves. With a bow, he went back to the rope ladder and descended, swimming back to shore before the dawn rendered him weak.

As the captain watched him go, her crew circled around with heavy heads. “I know, dearies. He has to learn on his own.”

Seven Days Later

Asterion’s tears fell in small, weak droplets at his feet as he wrapped his arms around his legs in a self-soothing motion. He had failed. The sun grew dimmer in the sky, and he sat on the beach alone with his misery. As he bowed into his arms the sea began to swirl again, and The Sea Witch appeared once more.

This time Asterion simply waited on the shore, refusing to make the swim. From the mists came a rowboat manned by two portly twin sailors, with the captain in front. As they reached shore she leapt down, striding over to Asterion with her arms outstretched.

“What happened, my poor snowflake? Did your man fail to notice your sweet charms?”

“Theseus didn’t even look at me. He fought some foolish battle with Pirithous and decided he made a better partner.” Wiping his face, he glared at her. “You knew leaving me weak would make me less desirable to him. That’s why you took my strength. If I had been able to fight like Pirithous I could have won his heart!”

Clicking her tongue, the captain replied, “My dear Asterion, if all you needed was strength to win his heart you could have done it without signing a contract.”

“He would never love me as a monster!”

“Then he could never love you.” The captain’s eyes sparked with silver, her gaze silencing the quivering boy before her. “You pathetic mortals never understand - people may like you for your qualities, but they can never truly love you without your flaws.” Leaning over him, her hair slid under his chin, forcing him to look up at her. “If I just made everyone perfect there would be nothing left to truly love.”

Asterion could only sob softly, his eyes filling up again with tears.

Turning her back to him, the captain snapped her fingers. “A deal is a deal, Asterion. I have no need for a weakling, so back you go.” As the sun touched the horizon Asterion began to grow, his head and horns appearing once more over his hooves and tail. His tears grew fat and continued to fall on the darkening sand. “Come. Our ship is needed elsewhere.”

Reluctantly, Asterion rose up from the beach and followed his new captain towards the small dinghy, rubbing his eyes. He knew not what future lay before him - but having already lost Theseus, he cared very little for what might come.

As if reading his thoughts, the captain’s head turned ever so slightly. “Your heart will harden, young bull. Don’t worry. I’ll keep you so busy you’ll forget that foolish mortal in no time. Now, be a dear and row us back - the twins here could use a rest.”

With a heavy heart, he replied, “Yes, captain.”

And with her new crew in tow, Captain Ursula returned to her ship.

“Now - sit!” The emphasis on “sit” did little to scoot our Corgi’s jogger-pants butt to the floor. Encouraging pats hadn’t either.

A soft shadow slunk from under the table, my cat stretching in the sunlight before creeping over to watch.

“I think you should give up for the day.” I offered. “Just give her the treat and try again tomorrow.”

“She’ll do it.”

“So far the only one sitting is the cat.”

With a frown, the frustrated trainer pointed. “See the cat? Do that.”

My cat looked up, puzzled.

“Do you have treats for her?”

“Yeah, same shelf as the dog’s.”

My partner returned brandishing the bag of cat treats. “Good girl, Sara. Here you go.” To our poor pup’s horror, the cat received a treat.

Sara greedily ate the chicken-flavored morsel and looked up with a quizzical mew, seeing the bag still in hand. She pawed up at it.

“Sit?” She received the same nudge, but unlike the dog, she quickly sat down. “Good girl!” Another chicken morsel dropped.

Not about to be outdone, the Corgi herded the competiton away. Then she turned again and looked up at my partner.

“Sit?”

She wavered, but resisted.

“OK then...Sara - sit?”

Sara quickly sat again. Her reward came swiftly, before the Corgi could interrupt. This time the dog barked in frustration.

“You know what you have to do.” Holding up the dog treat, my partner repeated, “Sit?”

Finally - she sat.

“Yes! Good girl!” Having no tail, her little butt wiggled in excitement as she jumped up.

“Shouldn’t you be thanking the real trainer here?” I pointed to the cat.

A dog person till the bitter end, my lover shrugged. “That’s your job.”

Shaking my head, I reached down to stroke Sara. “Poor girl. Come on, let’s go play fetch.”

“Wait - we haven’t learned that yet!”

It was a cold stormy night, I was wondering though a town looking for my sister Sparky. I soon discovered that I had entered a dark cave. Filled with unknown cats that smelled like old fishing nets. They held my sister captive. Saying I had to kill them to save my sister. I scraped the fur off their leader, and sliced his neck. He yelped in pain and slowly drived off into heaven. I had to demothish, slash, and bite other cats to get to my sister. After I killed all the cats I saw my sister in a cage half starved. The suddenly she released a tiny kit from her wings. Twig was the kits name, she was a little ginger kitten. Sparky said she had found Twig next to a lake during the winter. *click* I turned around to see humans taking pictures of us. Thats how I ended up in the news. It said "Later that evening the Homeless Shelter employyes found cats and a kitten eating hot pockets, after we discovered the cats they flew away with their rainbow wings." "We also saw a bunch of bunch of dead cats in the cave" Sparky, Twig and I ended up living with reporters. although Twigs wings were just deflopping, she could fly. She looked like a little ginger firefly. After a long time living with Sparky. I fell in love with her. We had a kit named Cinder and a kit named Teal. Thats when we ended up running away. We found a clan in the forest. TO BE COUNTINUED.

When I was 9 I had suicidal thoughts, I thought that my life had no meaning and I thought that my parents hated me. I thought my life was trash. When I 6 I kicked a glass door in an attempt to cut myself, I did. I have suicidal thoughts, MDD, anxiety, and ADHD. When I was younger I climbed on top of the roof I wanted to jump but I couldn’t. I tried to cut myself with knives, I didn’t have the guts. But now I realize that my life is great. I deserve to be alive and I value the things I have beyond belief. So if you’re ever thinking about suicide think again there are people that love you and value you for who you are. Even if you make mistakes that you can’t take away, or rumors that will never leave your heart. Remember my story, What stopped me from killing myself was the fact that my brother had a blood clot and bleeding from his brain. Then I thought about the grief that he would have gone through if you lost his sister from suicide. What if he never got to see me again. Then I cried, I thought about my family going through the grief of most likely losing a brother and then me. But my brother survived that showed me that there are miracles in this world and that God was a real thing. And that miracles can happen and to know what happened to me is just sensational

Yesterday, a dear friend of mine, Richard G. Walker, passed away. I knew him mostly on Facebook and through many email conversations over a period of 18 years. I was also privileged to have the opportunity to go see him and his wonderful family in Stopsley, UK. He was an author but most of you would not know him and if you had encountered his books, would most likely not have read them. Tastes have changed radically and the writing of an author who was old enough to remember his childhood during WWII and wrote primarily about the people and places in the UK that the war affected might not be of burning interest to most modern readers.

He was very good at what he did. He wrote with style, grace, humor, and empathy for his characters who struggled in the English countryside as the war went on. His novels included Sing a Song of Stopsley, Flying Upside Down, To Catch the Shadow of the Moon, Baggy Mag, The Ballad of Cricklewood Broadway and a small book of poetry, Stay Awhile. I loved all his books, but Baggy Mag was my favorite. Baggy Mag was a touching story of the love between two cousins who grew up together. There were times the story had me laughing and other times when it caused me to cry.

Richard came into contact with me when I started publicizing my first book, Enchanted Shores. I remember his comment clearly, “Ira, you are the new Aesop!” We exchanged books and other writing over the entire 18 years, giving each other an emotional boost and a critical eye for detail. He also loved my second book, We Won’t Forget You Mr. McGillicuddy. It was an honor to have another author, especially one who writes so well, comment so positively on my efforts at writing.

When I took my granddaughter to the UK to visit him, he and his wife were such gracious hosts. He had offered to put us up at his house but at the last minute, his son and girlfriend had to move in because they had lost their apartment. There was no room in their tiny home for all of us so he suggested we look into staying in the nearby town of Lilly at the 500-year-old Lilly Arms Bed and Breakfast Inn. It was inexpensive and gave my granddaughter and I a wonderful place to stay and meet locals. Richard also wanted to lend me his car to get around, but I declined as I wasn’t very comfortable driving on the wrong side of the road and didn’t want to bang up his auto. He loved that I brought my granddaughter with me. She was 15 at the time. He also gave her a big boost of encouragement when she agreed to give us a reading of some poetry she had written. After our visit, he always asked after “your beautiful granddaughter,” and was pleased when I included some tidbit about her in my email.

There are some people you meet who are nice enough, interesting and all that. But once in a while, you meet someone who is exceptional and whose personality not only meshes with yours but leaves you with a lasting positive impression. For me, Richard was that kind of person. He worked hard most of is life as a craftsman at Carron Iron Works and he also worked hard at his writing. He was much more than just an everyday worker. He was a man full of life, full of life’s stories living life as fully as he could. I will miss him dearly.

#friendship

#eulogy

#author

#writer

The funniest thing I have ever seen a dog do was not a trick he learned or anything else but the most hilarious of coincidences.

My family used to have a black labrador who was a retired Guiding Eyes dog and he was by far the most mellow and gentle labrador I have ever been around. He loved to sidle up to people and lure them closer to his face by wagging his tail and leaning on them until they got close enough for him to saturate their face in drooly and foul-smelling kisses.

One day at my parents' house we were having a BBQ with some friends from church and we were all sitting on our back porch enjoying a warm July evening. I was sitting near my sister and another teenage boy whom my sister had a crush on at the time. As we were sitting there, our loving labrador (his name was Salem) cuddled up next to my sister and began to wag his tail and be absolutely adorable in order to get her attention. Of course it worked and my sister began to pat his head and accept his well-meaning kisses. Since her crush was sitting nearby, my sister was of course making a little bit of a display of the whole thing and demonstrating just how tender and kind she could be to animals.

After one or two kisses, Salem looked at my sister, took a step back, and emptied the contents of his stomach on our back porch. The absolute mortification on my sister's face, accompanied by an apologetic look on Salem's face made both me and my sister's crush fall of the porch from laughing.

Sadly, I don't think my sister ever got a chance to redeem her kissing skills with her crush.

The carpet is a light color, not exactly a grey or beige, somewhere in between, solid. A color that shows everything against its weave, especially spilt coffee. Before the aroma of coffee even began to fill the room, with a flick of the coffee pot switch, our dog would always run wacky dog loop de loo towards his toy box.

“Why are you sitting on the floor playing tug with him while you drink your morning coffee, anyway? You created this problem.” Said my husband admonishingly, when my coffee spilled onto the carpet for the umpteenth time.

“I don’t know. I guess because I’ve always been a multitasker? And once a routine is set, break it, and try explaining that to a dog. But you are right,” I relented, running for the paper towels and solvent. “Before this rug is destroyed, I’m going to change it up, sit down with my coffee, and he will just have to wait.”

The next morning I anticipated my dog’s rebuttal, but was more than amused with his method of communicating his displeasure. While I held steadfast to my newfound behest, he began to tap with his paw on my leg, but not in the way we could have expected.

Tap. Pause. Tap tap. Pause. Tap tap tap. Pause. Tap tap tap tap. Pause. Tap tap tap tap tap. Long pause. And then he started all over again. One through five.

I nudged my husband into attention, because I couldn’t believe it.

“Is he counting?”

“Yup!”

It took awhile for the new routine to settle into my dog's psyche. Maybe about a week or two as I would hold my coffe cup up towards him while repeating a command he was familiar with. “Wait. Wait.” But during that week or two, I have to say, we enjoyed the one through five tap rebuttal, even more so than our coffee and clean carpet.