Happy Halloween!

front cover definitive

WotW-Preliminary

 

Happy Halloween, creepy people! Hope you had a spooky time. Big thank you to everyone who participated in the Halloween giveaway of Tenebrae Manor and The Will of the Wisp. Enjoy your free book! As always, more promotions will be run in the future. How was your Halloween? Did you dress up? Here’s me as Robert Smith of The Cure;

RS

Until next time!

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Halloween Promotion – Tenebrae Manor and The Will of the Wisp

Halloween is on its way!  Tenebrae Manor and The Will of the Wisp are FREE to download on Amazon Kindle from 27th October to 31st October. Get your free ebook before Halloween! Click the covers for links.

   WotW-Preliminary   Front Cover Final   In the Dark Trees_Front Cover

Spiders On The Lawn

Coal Coast Emporium

Copies of my books are available at the Coal Coast Emporium in Helensburgh – my home town!

Drop in for a large range of educational toys, books and gifts. Support local business!

cce

9a Walker Street Helensburgh NSW

Caprine Pike

Here dance the husks

the husks of men

They dance through flames

they burn to ash

And drums they thump

The goat-skin drums

Tambourine shake

drums they thump

The fire roars

The fire cracks

Like beetle wings

crack

Shadows tall

The shadows of men

Cinder bespeckled

a dark-led dance

Mottled mothwing

Strangled halitus

This ill wind,

What horror.

Leaves, they spin

In dusk

they glide, they whirl

too dry to rot

To ash, to star

All fall down, to rust

Nothing left

to burn.

There it goes, the dust

There goes the dust

Away, the dust

It’s gone

To dusk-woven death

it’s gone.

 

Harbour (Bare)

Away from imbroglios and brouhahas

To the torpid shorelines

Of oleaginous waves

Awash from dread and doubt

Brings forth a pulsing sorrow

Overwhelmed by drowning blues

Of sea and sky and burning sand

Of land-bound winds and crashing wake

In tranquility life is muted

Gulls spin on a mobile

Star-shaped shadows flit across the sand

Concave dune and convex contour

Shrill bell-cry through feathered throats

Rhythmic scuttling under the pier

Careful crab claws collect

Treasures no other would keep

But the high tide who’d steal them back

Stagnant indifference arrests the heart

The ocean recedes toward the horizon

Fish lay putrid and silver

In the stale rays of the day

And the rotted oyster tide

Hulls groan and chip their paint

Their decks creak in horror

Restless convicts of the bay

Knock the lynch-pin wharf

Inward cries split the ribs

Unbearable benevolence

I’d destroy it if I could

To bring an equilibrium

Wrapped in gloom-cloaked wings

She calls my name I am soothed

The oleaginous waves

The torpid shorelines

Wash away dread and doubt