In Hunter Mountain from Flowers in Autumn (link to view or purchase the book)

In Hunter Mountain

Silently, in the black of midnight,
We sit perplexed – motionless atop Hunter Mountain.
Hundreds of stars beckon us to stare skyward
And at last, amidst my silent prayer,
One dying ember shoots south arching swiftly to peace.

Inside, snapping sparks fly within the hearth –
Hours of stoking and kindling care.
Coals glowing orange heat more than the heart.
Rich cocoa mellows – perhaps too ideal as we snuggle and find ourselves warmly frozen and mesmerized.

A moan and several stretches later, Comet settles close.
Moments ago racing through crisp leaves and frosted earth
Declaring his bliss amidst endless terrain,
He stakes claim to his new found territory.

Finally, all eyelids fall heavy as logs burning shadows bounce aimlessly about the chalet.
We succumb at last and nod off with a smile and a snore.

Some exciting projects!

I am very excited to be a part of the Buffalo Small Press Book Fair on March 22, 2008. I will be promoting my two books: Flowers in Autumn: endings and beginnings and Old Mr. Scrooge (my 10-minute adaptation of the Dickens classic, A Christmas Carol).
If you are in the Buffalo area on March 22nd, please stop by the Museum anytime between Noon and 6PM!
For more information, just use the graphic to be taken to the website.

I am also very happy to be giving seminars as part of The New Jersey State Drama Festival in April.

And on May 5th, I will be re-creating the role I recorded on the demo CD for a reading of THE REALLY BIG PIRATE SHOW in New York City! The show will then have a backers audition as it prepares for a Broadway run!

Oh Pumpkin

from Flowers in Autumn: endings and beginnings

My pumpkin. Not nearly as big as I envisioned,
nor round as the others, yet it gleams,
begging to be made real - to intimidate and startle,
only personified by crafted carving.

But alas, I am not he artist of the jack-o-lantern
and this gourd would bide better under careful creativity.
Still ... pumpkin pleads and I hesitantly ascertain,
"Any face triumphs no face."

Stroked with sharp edge along the grain,
scraping and sawing each triangular orifice
and then the next, there is more waste than want.
Frustrated - afraid of destruction and not creation
I detain the final cuts.

Stalling to stall but forced by the hour I commit.
My trick or treat and pumpkin's fate are final.
Glancing down, my anticipation startled,
I am suspended by a heartfelt smile.
"Oh Jack, you are definitely more than just a lantern!"