Dare

By Scott Bailey © 2016

I don’t dare to dream
Reality is too harsh
To just brush aside

 

In response to RonovanWrites #Weekly #Haiku #Poetry Prompt #Challenge #124 Dream&Dare

#Ronovan Writes Haiku Challenge

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Winter is coming and the ghosts

As the nights draw in, settle down in front of the fire, get comfy and enjoy some spooky tales!

13talescoverc

A collection of short stories concerning ghosts. Some are traditional ghost stories in the tradition of M.R. James and Edgar Allan Poe. Other are not. Some scare, some are fun. Some play with the concept of a ghost. There are ghosts who are out for revenge and the living avenging the spirits that curse them.

Ideal for sitting around a campfire and late at night under the covers. Or maybe not if the stories themselves are any guide.

Check it out at Amazon and Smashwords and other online e-book retailers.

A paperback version os being worked on for those who prefer the feel of the paper while huddling by the fire – on your own – in the dark – with that noise behind you……

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Tithe

By Scott Bailey © 2015

 

This is my tithe
The part of my life
That I give to my lord
To survive

My uses are his
My flesh and my blood
So I am here
On this field

Shoulder to shoulder
With my fellow men
Shields edge to edge
Spears raised

For the right to go on
Feed my wife and my son
To stave hunger away
One more year

Death faces us down
With it’s bloodstained gown
As the line ahead draws
Ever closer

The enemy jeers
Clashing their spears
Moving their wall
Close to ours

And I see in their eyes
They are bound by their tithes
To kill for their lord
Just like me

www.scottandrewbailey.uk

Little Stone Church

By Scott Bailey © 2015

 

Little stone church
Nestled on a hill
Over looking the sea
Watching over the harbour still

The boats nestled cheek to cheek
And those tossed on the waves
The bell rings out a guiding peal
Above the moss stained graves

And every sailor on the deck
Mouths a silent prayer
The church windows watch their pleas
With a cold and empty stare

The settlement around the church
Huddles to the old stone walls
Strong but cold strange comfort their
As the tolling calls

Older still the hill
Watches the fleeting boats
The flighty homes and towers
Their occupants dust motes

More enduring still
The constant shifting waves
Will eat the hill, huts the boats
Even the very graves

www.scottandrewbailey.uk