Here you’ll find a few poems that I hope to one day turn into comics.

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There’s a Door

It’s said there’s a door
on the Amber Rose shore
standing tall on the Cliffs of Bermew…

… that can only be seen
on one summer evening
when it lets all the magic things through.

It’s not hard to find
if it’s fresh in your mind
but you have to ensure you’re alert.

For if your thoughts wander,
your chances are squandered,
and your eyes will see only dirt.

So few know its place
in this world’s worth of space,
but out there there are people who know.

Does the door look quite bland?
Is it buried in sand?
Or perhaps, even covered in snow?

Well, I cannot say!
For I have not engaged
with this mysteriously wonderful thing.

I’ve not yet seen it
nor journeyed between it
or else, my tale I would sing.

Will you see it someday?
I sure hope that you may!
You will see all the magic pour through.

For it is the door
that connects other worlds
and it’s out there, just waiting for you.

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I Planted a Seed

I planted a seed the other day —
I buried it deep underground.
It sent down its roots
and up went its shoots.
You might see it when you come around.

I visit each day to check it’s okay,
that it’s watered and fed and content.
It seems to be thriving,
and keeps on surviving.
If you came by, you’d see what I meant.

I think it’ll bloom soon, it’s coming on June soon.
It’s been here and grown for a while.

The flowers look like those
I’ve seen in your garden.
I hope when you see them, you smile.

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Something Lurking

There’s something lurking at my door.
I’ve heard it countless times before.
The floorboards creak, the rafters groan —
the sounds that mean I’m not alone.

This house has halls that stretch out wide:
space enough for things to hide.
The wall outside my door has cracks.
The paint peels up, it won’t lay flat.

It’s through these cracks that things get in.
They scuttle through, in twos and tens.
Out through cracks, into the hall.
They creep outside my bedroom walls.

I hear them there — their haunting din.
The sound of evil things, let in.
I lock my door, I get in bed.
I pull the sheets above my head.

I close my eyes and try to sleep,
while in the hall the dark things creep.
The door is locked. I’d shut it tight.
I’ll wait them out another night.