We start to die the day we are born. Simple Haiku illustrates this.

Poem about, stages of my ages when I grew up
and on some of the things that I have learned
while I grew up.

A fantasy-themed play. Has been selected by a playwright who has had a play on broadway as the best in the class.

Sometimes its impossible to stop yourself from crying……………….

Do we watch the signs, and are we prepared for the end of times?

Regulus has been detained and Tybalt is nowhere to be found as the large, black wolf traverses the countryside as a captive of the humans.

The first night of Christmas, and the proclamation of the angels. Believe in the love which was shown on this night!

The wolves of the Ancient city of Remignon are not like common wolves. They stand on two legs and can fashion their own tools and weaponry. Let’s hope that saves them when the humans start to encroach upon their land. As Tybalt and his friend Regulus drink themselves into a pleasant stupor at a tavern, The rumble of machinery is heard in the distance. And the whole town goes quiet. Only when they return to camp do they notice something is amiss…..

As Regulus bounds through the forest after his distressed comrade, he stumbles upon an unsettling scene. As these strange machines push their way towards Remignon, It’s up to Regulus to save Tybalt and notify the village.

A terse poem pregnant with imagery and metaphor.