A Dragon and a Fire Angel Turn up in a Bar ~ D’l Kyrug

The Silver dragon says
“And so fair fire-angel
what has happened to your wings?”

“They got stuck in the gates
whilst I was trying to escape the forbidden gardens of desire”

“Hon, that has got to hurt
Not unlike the time I got my tail caught
in the tilt-o-whirl of love”

Nodding agreement the fire angel remains silent
swimming deep currents of memory in her thoughts

The Silver Dragon stamps his foot
shouts, “The Service in this place leaves a lot to be desired
Can”t a dragon get a drink in this dump?”

The fire angel turns towards him, eyes lowered
and hands him a silver mug with potent red wine
He looks confused but takes the proffered cup with appropriate reverence
and mumbles something in dragon
“You are One So Rare
most hallowed and revered. . .
When did you start tending bar?”

But out loud he says
“Thank you m”Lady
and may the day of your healing be hastened”
then he breaths fire across the beverage
The vapors spill over
Cause a fog to rise around all the patrons of the place
Most don’t seem to care
and the rest are smart enough to know better

He drinks deep
as only dragons are prone drink

Alive, the Breaking of Day ~ D’l Kyrug

or is it only the fever speaking to my sickened mind?

in tired eyes
and mist covers the lake
as shivers take my body once again

Choirs of angels
chorus of demons
deep harmonics of infrared and razor sharp ultraviolets. . .
Rainbows dance in the coming sun
I am weary
bleary and. . . strangely alive

Yes. . .
Oh yeah. . .
Let’s just sit here a bit

holding on to my back
slipping around behind me
at the speed of dark
leaving its roots in shadows on me

Daybreak pours across the Face of the East
Golden liquid honey
cascading into my face, hands and
Night retreats to the West

Oddly. . .
The cool of the Darkness
adds to the comfort of the Dawning Light


A glistening, glittering spider’s web touches everything
An array of light and shadow. . .
and somehow beyond understanding
I am alive


T’alcydon – Teacher of Metamorphs

T’alcydon is a very clever . . .
Well he’s a dragon at the moment
In this particular pocket ‘verse called Easalin
T’alcydon can be a very clever teacher
a very clever Rukesayer

of the young Metamorphs
the young Tyros
He has walked the Seven pathways
Has Spoken the one True Tongue
Has known the whip of Light
and the Ice of Darkness

T’alcydon knows
That not all actors are metamorphs
But all metamorphs are actors
Knows that the problem of the metamorph
Is that you never really know
your own True nature
Never really know
if you’re faking
He Knows
That young metamorphs
are the most dangerous

He knows this
And loves them . . .
every one

I love you as a friend

What if
every time you fell in love
you had to say goodbye?

(Every love story winds up a tragedy
if you don’t end it soon enough)

What if you really loved someone
and you where not allowed to tell them?

(Unrequited love is the most insidious torment. . .

What if your best friend
told you that they loved you beyond all sense
and all you said was
“I love you as a friend”?

Incident in the Orchard

Gentle creature
so pale in the moonlight
How come you to this place

Shattered crystal butterfly
leaning against a peach tree in bloom
A statue awash in lingering lunar light
Fair alabaster hand aglow
Lady of the Land of Light
walking in Darkness

Gentle one
Let me tell you a story
Of a crazed and blind angel
a creature of exquisite face
and brilliant energies
A beautiful Fiend
An unknowing creature
living in a murderous land . . .

The Recounting of the Muse PhiPhyre’s Intervention ~ from ‘the 9 Strange Muses of Regwen’

Here in these halls. . .
You ask that of me here?

I speak to you only because there is a song in me
that wasn’t there before
Not because you command me to do so

When the Death Angels fell on our position
the filters and shields provided did nothing to save us
Half my array splintered and caught fire
The balance simply failed

I stood longer than any human there
but we were not fighting humans
I fell. . .
Strange how this is like a dream
yet I remember every aspect
every detail

I fell into some kind of maze
Some cunning structure meant to confuse the senses
Long hallways of vegetations I have never seen
Some flowering in shapes of strange animals
Some in shapes of faces of all the known worlds

I tried to push my hands into the hedge
but it resisted and my hands felt acid burning
See? These are the scars
I could not climb over or wriggle under
At no place could I see from one hedgerow to the next

The sky was a consistent pewter void or any markings
Void of sun or moon or stars
I relented and sank in despair

Some other time later
I ran
tried to leave a trail
All to no avail

An eternity after I had landed in the maze
a most sonorous vibration. . .
The earth felt of the vibe
The leaves shook
and everything seemed to resonate with the sound

My thoughts scattered and my eyes grew blurred
My heart filled my throat and. . .

She was walking there
Not more than a man’s length in front of me
Her back to me and for a moment she turned
and my heart fell away from me
leaving me naked in her gaze

Amazed I watched as she gestured for me to follow
through a verdant arch that had not been there before
Past statues of strange mythical beasts
down, around and through
A hapless dog, I followed

She stopped
turned to face me and said
“You are hungry?”
I had no tongue nor any remembrance of how to speak
“Of course you are. . .”

She reached into the hedge and brought out
Meat-cakes, breads and globulesque fruits
Gelatinous spheres of a thin wine. . .

I know the Speakers say never except food from the Fae
But I was certain that I was dead already
and the fare was passing good
but not the ambrosia foods of the Fae

Moments? Days?
We wound through pathways beyond number
Never speaking
Sometimes pausing for refreshment

And suddenly the walls of the maze
were mere trees
The very trees of Veralon
and the sky was a normal sky
and the path was littered with debris. .

And I looked up
and. . .
My Lady was gone

Terror took me then
and I shouted and ranted
and I was left so alone. . .

She was. . .
she is gone. . .
and I am so alone
She must have been one the Strange Muses

The Speakers
The Lords
even the Merchants can not say how I managed
to find myself in Veralon
Light years and worlds away from the battle place
where the Death Angels fell upon us

None of my company. . .
None of us lived. . .
Yet I live
None of us escaped
Yet. . .

Creatures made of light and darkness


Day and night, rivers,
Creatures made of light and darkness
Deep beautiful song