Your Glorious Magic – A Poem


Though I struggle with a lot,

loving you is the easiest thing to do.

I don’t have to even think about it,

my love for you is a constant vibration

that shines through me like the sun.

Though I may have difficulties

that often set me back,

loving you moves me forward.

Before you, my path was filled with shadows.

Now, it is filled with sunshine and,

though we can’t see the end,

I am not afraid when I am with you.

There are times when I feel

that I can’t do it,

that it’s not possible,

that it won’t work.

You have only to hold out your hand

and utter the words “You’ve got this.”

to help me believe that anything is possible.

Though life passes us by,

moving quickly so that

one second

one hour

and one day tend to blend together,

there is one thing in my life

that has remained timeless:

You, glorious you.

Loving you is the easiest thing to do

and you are proof

that magic is real.

Brighter Than The Sun – A Poem

Our love growstree and sun

like a tree.

It bloomed from

a seed that

was planted the

moment I first

saw you. The

tree grew, watered

by that love,

helped it thrive.

Every time you

told me that

you loved me,

a branch grew.

Each time you

kissed me, a

leaf, full of

colour, grew along

the branches. You

are the man

that I wished

for so long

ago, that I

dreamed of and

hoped for. Until

you, all I

have known is

unkindness and conflict

and the trees

that have grown

have been stunted

and dark. When

I think of

you, it is

as if the

sun comes out

to greet me,

filling my mind,

spirit and body

with light that

is so pure,

so warm, that

the cold can

no longer find

me. Now, when

I look up

at the branches

of the tree

that we have

grown, I see

a sea of

leaves in a

a riot of

colours. I see

the nests that

have been built

within the branches,

the birds that

have made their

home amongst the

leaves. The tree

is in the

centre of my

mind and it

hasn’t reached its

full height. The

tree is but

a sapling in

terms of time.

We have a

timeless love, years

passing by in

what feels like

days. I can’t

wait to watch

the tree grow,

as it stretches

itself through air,

earth, fire and

water, through the

very fabric of

time. With each

new leaf that

grows, know that

my love for

you grows every

day until it

is brighter than

the sun.

The Lucky Ladies Soup Kitchen – A Flash Fiction Story

Star necklace

The compass caught the light and made it look as if Alexander was holding the sun.

“You’re sure it’s in there?” Basil asked.

Alexander shrugged. “This compass has never lied before. It’s always led us to where we need to be. “

“Yes, but it’s led us into a few difficult situations before. Need I remind you of the prison filled with criminals who tried to lynch us, or the orphanage filled with innocents?”

Alexander ran a hand over his face. “You don’t need to remind me.” His voice was muffled, and it was tired. “We got every piece though, didn’t we? The compass always led us to the right place.”

Maxell sighed. “You and that fucking compass. Fine, we’ll go inside and see what we can find out.”

“We may have a problem, gents.” A third voice said.

Alexander and Basil turned towards the voice. “What now?” Basil asked.

“There.” Clyde said, pointing towards a sign. It read Lucky Ladies Soup Kitchen. Women Only

“Well, fuck.” Basil said.

“Shit fingers.” Alexander said. He sighed and looked at the two men. “Do either of you know anything about being women?”

A wide grin spread across Basil’s face. “How hard can it be? I just complain about my period a lot and play with my boobs.” He mimed fixing his breasts in a bra.

“You’re such a douchebag. “Alexander said. “No wonder women won’t sleep with you. What about you?” Alexander tuned to Clyde.

“I know that women like to shave their legs and armpits and drink tea while discussing current literature or events. I’m not really clear whether they do it all at the same time, though.”

Alexander let his head fall against a brick wall. “Fucking idiots.” He sighed.


Basil looked at himself in the mirror and pouted. “I still say I make a better brunette. And my boobies are too small. They should be bigger. Also, I don’t really feel my character would wear this. What is this, shabby chic?” Basil picked at the hoodie he was wearing.

Alexander reminded himself that he needed Basil and that murder was illegal. “It doesn’t fucking matter. We are playing women that require a soup kitchen to eat. We can’t go in there looking like fucking porn stars. Geez!”

“I’m also having issues.” Clyde said. “I mean, how do women walk in these without looking like hookers all the time? Plus, they have that lovely sway to their bottoms. How do they manage that?”

He tried walking across the floor walking in five-inch heels, wiggling his bottom to and fro as if he was having a full body seizure. Alexander reminded himself again that murder would be very wrong and that he would look horrible in orange.

“Focus, please? Basil, your boobs are fine and the blond wig brings out the green in your eyes. Clyde, put on the boots like I told you to in the first place. We have to find that fragment of soul before it disappears, or all this will be for nothing.”

Basil fluffed his hair. “How many are left?”

“Only three. We’re so close.” Alexander said.

The other two men nodded. “Let’s go.” Clyde said.


They entered the Lucky Ladies Soup Kitchen as if they belonged there, which of course they didn’t. Although they received some notice, no one really looked at them. The women here were more intent on eating their fill.

“Welcome home.” A warm voice said. They turned and found a beautiful woman with flowing brown hair, sexy librarian glasses and a beautiful smile looking at them. Her name tag said that her name was Christine. She exuded peace. Alexander could feel if coming from her in waves.

Then he looked closer and saw what they had come here for: around her neck was a crystal that was cut in the shape of a star. The three men could see the glow coming from the crystal star. A small piece of a soul that was hanging around a woman’s neck.

Normally, the piece of the soul they were looking for was in something inanimate: a vase, an ashtray, a picture frame. It had never been within a piece of jewelry before.

“That’s a nice necklace you got there.” Alexander said. He tried to keep his voice breathy and high pitched, but Christine narrowed her eyes.

“Yes. It is. What can I get for you…ladies?”

The pause before the word ladies told him that they didn’t have much time. They had to get the soul, they just had to.

Basil gave Alexander a wide-eyed look and Alexander nodded. Basil pulled a lighter out of his purse. They could only use it in extreme circumstances. Alexander gave another quick nod and Basil clicked the lighter open.

The whole scene froze in front of them. Christine was frozen with her mouth open slightly as if she had been about to say something more. Reaching forward, Alexander took the crystal star with the piece of a soul inside it and tucked it in his pocket.

He leaned close to Christine. She smelled of sandalwood and the sea. “I’ll be back. I’ll come back for you.” Alexander felt an honest connection to her, more than he had felt for anyone in a few millennia. He had to find out what it was about her that called to him.

But first…

“We only need two more pieces of the soul and then we’re free. All our souls will finally belong to us again.”

“It’s been so fucking long.” Clyde said.

“I know!” Basil said. “I don’t know how ladies do it. Wearing clothes like this for a whole day?” He shook his head, sending his curls bouncing.

Alexander sighed “Fucking idiots.” He said.

He nodded at Basil again and, when Basil pressed the button that normally brought a flame, they began to disappear. Alexander had one last look at Christine and then the world they had stepped into faded from their sight.

Love Within a Sea of Stars – A Poem

I never thoughtStars

that a love like ours

was possible.

I always thought

that it belonged

within the storybooks,

that it didn’t have a place

in real life.

Now, I know different.

Whenever I hear your voice,

my body sings along with it.

Whenever I see you

and look upon your face,

my heart rejoices.

I dreamed of you for so long.

I would look into the skies

at night and wonder what

you looked like or how

your voice would sound

when it said my name.

I wished upon every star for you,

every ball of light that I could see

within the canvass of the nights sky,

wondering if you would hear my wish

and if it would call you to me.

When we found each other,

it was as if that wish I had made,

oh so long ago,

had been granted and you were

the stuff off wishes and stardust.

There are times when we have to part,

when you are far from me in body,

but you are with me in spirit.

I look to the night sky when you are away,

hoping to send you messages of my love

through the morose code of stars,

blinking so beautifully in the darkness.

One night,

not so long ago,

I was looking up into the sky

at the sea of stars

and noticed one star that

pulsed and shone

so much brighter

than all the rest.

Every time the star pulsed,

I could feel something move within me.

Putting a hand on my chest,

I let out a gasp.

I realized that the star

that shone so brightly,

pulsed to the beat of my heart

and the love I have for you.

It is our star,

a piece of our light

amongst within a sea of velvet black.

If you ever find yourself

on your own without me,

know that you are not alone.

A part of me shines within you

and within the very sky,

as our love shines bright

within a sea of stars.

I’m not F**king Brave

Spoonie Authors Network

Not Brave

Just to set the record straight, I’m not brave, okay?

I live with spastic cerebral palsy (CP) and relapse-and-remitting multiple sclerosis (MS). I can’t count the number of people who have called me brave. I always smile and nod when they say this, but the truth is that bravery has nothing to do with it.

I was born with CP and have lived with it all my life. I am in some kind of pain twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. There are some days that are more manageable, where it’s at a low-level hum running underneath my skin. Other days, the CP is extremely active. The spasms change their position in my body from day to day; there’s no rhyme or reason to it.

The MS is on the other side of the spectrum. I have symptoms that come and go and when they return, they are…

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