The Job (Haiku)

 

Our aim, to keep fit

To do the necessary 

For Good and Evil

The choice always ours

Both sides beckon and call us

Free-will, the choice ours.

Thoughts (Haiku)

 

Like clouds in the sky,

Nebulous, white, gray, or dark.

Then they are expressed.

Spoken or written,

Expression gives them power

For good or for bad.

Until expression,

In the cradle of a mind,

They float harmlessly.

The Task at Hand (Haiku)

 

Not doing something

Not the same as nil to do

See the difference?

Down the Line

 

This isn't mine, but I am passing it along:

One letter makes the question, the answer, substitute the "W" with a "T."

What?

Where?

When?

Gender (Haiku)

 

Sexuality 

In just a few simple words

Do it; Have it done

Learning (Haiku)

 

Between ignorance

Learning is a continuum

Assimilation

Character Sketch of the Wizard of Beckwith Coven

 

They call me Old Tom, the kids who play in the forest do.  “Four-score and more, not an hour more or less.  And to deal plainly, I feel that I am not in my perfect mind.  Methinks I should know you, and you, but I am mainly ignorant as to what place this is, and for all my skill, I know not these garments, nor I know not where I did lodge last night.” I woke up in a large, hollowed, fallen tree. I wake up every morning in various locations in the forest.  I am a person of the forest, have been for many years.  The kids know me and tease, but I pay no attention to them.

Even though my recall of more current events is not what it was, my memory of things past is accurate and clear.  The Beckwiths, of whose family I may be a part, are of great interest to me.  I know the good and the bad about them and tolerate them just the same.

My association with the witch, Hecate, is as old as I am. The start of it has been long lost in time.  We may even be related.  We trust each other and work together to maintain the unity of the coven.  This may qualify me as a warlock, but I don’t care much about titles.

Now that Christopher Stark is no longer alive, there will be controversy about the fortune and the disposition of the mansion and the grounds.  Wainwright is insufferable and Stark is greedy.  We shall see how it pans out.  Meanwhile, the dead don’t want to let go.  As for me, “pray you now, forget and forgive, for I am a foolish, fond old man.”

It may look familiar, King Lear.