Well I’m back to my blogging after an unscheduled break. Life has been crazy of late. A word of advice: don’t for one minute ever think you have everything undercontrol because just about the time things are running smoothly…something invariably changes. It’s been months since I’ve written on here. Writing related: I have had interest in my young adult novel, Russian Roulette and am hopeful that it will be picked up by a publisher. It is the best novel I’ve written to date and I always strive to improve with each subsequent story. I also have started working on my Fire and Ice series again and hope to get at least one more published by the end of the year. I have learned when its related to writing that patience is of the utmost importance.
I’ve decided to include a couple of poems in this blog. The first is a sad poem about the loss of love and is titled A Final Kiss. The second is titled The Shadow of Mortality. Both are taken from my young adult novel and were already almost in natural verse form and needed little reformatting. As always feel free to comment. 
A Final Kiss
The last kiss of two souls, their lives intertwined at the heart,
Who were to endure the anguish of being torn apart.
Leaving a gaping hole in both our lives,
Only time would reveal if we would survive.
The knowledge that without my true love nothing would ever be the same,
Never would I be truly happy again.
I drew back and gazed into my beloveds face,
His eyes smoldered from our passionate kiss and final embrace.
The silence echoed my feelings of complete and utter sorrow,
The totality of emptiness from endless tomorrows.
The Shadow of Mortality
I moved swiftly down to the end of a pier and surveyed my surroundings.
Death hung in the air beckoning me closer.
I stole noiselessly the length of the long dock, where an old fisherman sat against a barnacled pillar.
His weathered face was lined with deep creases from years of the onslaught of sun and salt.
I walked silently up to him and he slowly raised his eyes to meet mine.
A knowing look came into his countenance, he knew what I was, and why I was here.
Fishermen were a different breed in a lot of ways, still believing in superstitions.
Whereas the modern world had moved forward and left the old tales and legends behind,
fisherman understood that there were unexplainable forces at work in the universe.
They had on many occasions been out to sea with nothing around but the tempest storms that had
a life of their own.
And realized it was up to the secrets within the depths of the ocean whether they lived, died,
prospered, or went home without any catch at all.
Life was not really a game of chance, it was of circumstances and fate.
The old man had fear in his eyes as I approached, but there was also a sense of peace and
resignation.
His life was complete and he had no regrets, he’d lived how he wanted with the salty air
always in his face.
The caress of the ocean under him, as the fishing boat would rock and sway to its nautical music.
The thrill of winning against all the insurmountable odds of unknown waters, winds, and storms,
to bring in his livelihood so that he could go out and replicate the process another time.
But the final day and hour had come of this maritime existence he had chosen for his life.
He gazed out upon the gentle rolling tide as the shadow of my essence enveloped him,
and the closing breath of his mortality escaped his lips.
