The Weather Is Turning Cold

The weather is turning cold.

It makes me hungry for surf-battered shores and sharp-bladed grasses,
for the smell of salt and snow in the air,
for grim, gray rocks carpeted with lichen.

The weather is turning cold.
It makes me hungry for the sea.


Photo Credit: Dartrider
https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Rocky_shore_on_St._Croix_US_Virgin_Islands,_habitat_of_Cittarium_pica.jpg

Friday Flashback: Beautiful Nonsense

Bits of poetry made with music themed refrigerator magnets

do fret with quiet crescendo
haunt your love like a soft adagio
if in melody you dance
if you make an accidental rhythm
then move as grace sublime
I cannot full measure
my joy
bursting
at our harmony

Originally Published: February 2, 2020
Updated: November 20, 2020

Happy Hobbit Day!

Today is September 22, the birthday of both Frodo and Bilbo Baggins. These stout little hobbits appeared in The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings series by J.R.R. Tolkien and were pivotal players in the War of the Ring. Today might be a good day to enjoy some tasty food and drink in true Hobbit fashion and chase down an ill-advised adventure or two (though be cautious of any magical artifacts you come across).
In honor of the day, below is a poem I wrote several years ago for a Fantasy/Science Fiction class. It was part of a project I completed on The Hobbit.


Colored cloaks, like misty ghosts,
Through silver shadows pass.
Thirteen of steely foot and eye,
A borrowed thief,
The tallest shuffles last.

Through hands that squash,
And fangs that bite,
Through shrieks and riddles in the night,
Through enchantment’s snare,
And Goblin lair,
To reach that mountain cold.

There awaits a mighty foe,
Guardian of his golden hoard.
Emerging to rain despair,
With thunderous wing and roar.
But to a brave man’s arrow,
The FireFiend will fall.

To the mountain, a battleground,
Fortress for a fevered king.
March the armies of desire,
Joined by tide’s darkening.
A noble tomb for son’s of earth.


As always, thanks for reading and Happy Hobbit Day!

~ R. E. Rule

Originally posted January 30, 2020. Republished with updates September 22, 2020.
Photo Credit: T-Jacques (https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Dragon-hobbit-couleurs.JPG)

Where She Walks

Roses bloom from her palms,
Orchids tangle in the vines of her hair.
Where she walks, life awakens.

Bees and butterflies, her aura.
Pools of water, her eyes.
Her skin, the earth.

Thorns adorn her limbs.
Nectar drips from the well of her lips.
Life to some; to others, poison.

Death and beauty, embodied.


This poem was based on the writing prompt: flower power.

A crystal drop

A crystal drop runs down your body
And I long to trace its path
With a fingertip
With frothy kisses
To follow the river to the salty sea
And lose myself in the waves.

~R. E. Rule


The first episode of Tiny Tales, a short story podcast featuring my writing and original music by composer Frank Nawrot, released on Monday. Find us on Spotify, YouTube, or the In the Writing Studio website. Apple Podcasts coming soon! New episodes will be posted weekly.