Just a little poem that came to me when I got home. As a Catholic I see the Eucharist as not just the tiny piece of bread I receive every Sunday but as a way of life, a call to love sacrificially. This piece is heavily inspired by my parents, whose devotion to living a Eucharistic life sustained them through the best and worst of times together while they raised me and my siblings. Let me know what you think and don’t be afraid to critique the flow or other elements of the poem, I’m still new to this genre!

This is my body, this is my blood

She says without words from the day she gives us life into the late years of our childhood

This is my body this is my blood

He says without words as he works himself to the bone day and night to ensure…

“Let us adjourn to my solar, my lord.” Tanil invited, gesturing towards his large villa, “I am sure your journey has made you thirsty for something far stronger than water, perhaps.” “Indeed it has, your highness.” Chortled Barator, never a man to turn down an offer of wine or ale. The Dunyar were known for their creation of a most unique form of ale called Rukir, a much sought after imbibement for those of expensive taste which was exported to various parts of the world. Being himself quite partial to it, he could not help but hope this would be served. A few moments later the three lords were seated at a large round table under the shade of several tall trees, a welcome reprieve from the heat of the day. The terrace was lined with ornately sculpted balustrades of white marble, yet another reminder of the expert handiwork of…

This is a little something that came to me a few months ago. Just a little fictional piece set in another world exploring the subject of idealism. Enjoy!

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“Another pamphlet, eh?” Looking up from his bowl of qor, he was met with the irritatingly smug simper of Citizen Piri Mogran, a short, stubby man with a barrel chest and a nose the size of an ostrich egg. He reeked of the pessimism and narrow mindedness that permeated amongst the lower classes…or perhaps it was just the fish and onion soup he’d eaten for lunch earlier. “Take a look for yourself.” Gem replied flippantly with his best attempt at an unaffected shrug, returning to his food though the stench of the Citizen was enough to ruin his appetite. The laborer wordlessly picked up one of the pamphlets from the small stack and began scanning its contents, a glint of feigned…

(Picks up after Barator and Adilar enter the courtyard of the House of Nefyil)

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“I hope my arrival has not disturbed Lord Tanil from his work.” Commented Barator, for a moment fearing he had arrived sooner than his host expected. Adilar was about to give answer when suddenly a voice, rich and gentle, spoke from a short distance: “It has, yet I assure you it is a most welcome disturbance.” Both boy and man turned towards the voice, its owner emerging from behind a large hedge of fiery dragon roses. Barator immediately perceived him to be the High Lord of Din Serenth, no introduction necessary due in part to the overwhelming impression that he was standing in the presence of a luminary figure.

It was believed that most often creations were merely reflections of their creators, and Tanil Nefyilon was no exception to this belief, for it was no…