#ChristmasSale Extended Thru End of Year – All My #Kindle Books Just $.99

Ho, ho, ho, folks! Decided to extend the $.99 Christmas Sale price for ALL of my Kindle books through the end of the year. Take advantage of the fact that I’ll be too busy over the holidays to reset prices, and download your copies before Jan 1. (Preferably today!) 😀 And thanks for helping me get the word out!

You can access all of my books from my Author’s Page HERE.

Or individual books below:
Wake-Robin Ridge Series:
Wake-Robin Ridge
A Boy Named Rabbit
Harbinger
Riverbend Series:
Swamp Ghosts
Finding Hunter
That Darkest Place
Emissary Novellas:
The Emissary: A Riverbend Spinoff
The Emissary 2: To Love Somebody
Poetry:
Summer Magic: Poems of Life & Love

#ExcerptWeek – Poem from Summer Magic by Marcia Meara

The first half of this little book contains a series of poems featuring my Wake-Robin Ridge hero, MacKenzie Cole, as a boy of ten, exploring his beloved North Carolina mountains each summer, with his dad. The second half contains poetry about Life. And Love. (Hence the line at the bottom of the cover. 😀 I’ve chosen to share one of Mac’s poems, since the Perseid meteor shower can be counted on to show up right around August, every year. I hope you enjoy it.

Star-Gazing by Marcia Meara

The Perseids . . .
Lying back under
The ink-blotted sky,
He tries out the words.
They tickle his tongue.
The Per-see-ids. Those
Pinpoints of brightness
And streaks of fire,
Lighting the night
In a spectacle
Older than he can
Possibly know.

Look Dad, he cries,
Look how many!
I see a hundred,
Maybe a thousand!
I see them, too,
Dad says,
And together, they laugh,
Delighted!
Joy shared,
And excitement
Doubled.

Come see the meteors,
Dad said, as he
Shook him awake
Just before dawn.
He crawled from the tent,
Rubbing his eyes,
Then staring in wonder.
With the sky still a midnight black,
And bright stars wheeling overhead,
The fireworks came.
Racing toward Earth,
One after another,
The Perseids.
The miracle of hot August nights.
A late-summer light show
That electrified his soul.
His young heart transfixed
By the sight of the universe,
Lit with streamers
Of flame.

A meteor shower,
Dad tells him again,
But he knows nothing
So beautiful has a name
So ordinary.
Stars, he thinks, pulled loose
From the fabric of the sky,
And flung toward earth,
Trailing silver and gold,
And bringing pieces of Heaven
To those watching below.

He holds up his hands,
Cupped reverently,
To catch one of his own.
To be blessed by
This summer magic.
He holds his breath, waiting
For the illumination
Of his soul to begin.
Falling stars,
Falling from the
Summer sky,
For him.

Since my bio and photo are already on display in several places on this site, I’m going to skip that, and just share a couple of lovely reviews, instead.

“What beautiful, sensory poems! In Summer Magic, Marcia Meara writes that “Sometimes I think I’m drowning in a sea of words . . . Words have the power to make us laugh and cry . . . They lift us up in joy or slam us to the ground in misery . . . Amazing things, words.” And her beautiful poems use words to do just that. When I read the poems of Mac at Ten, I’m there with that little boy, not just seeing, but feeling it all––the magic of a sunrise, the fun of collecting treasures, the beauty of a meteor shower, the freedom of a carefree summer.”
~Elizabeth Vollstadt

” . . . a perfect read for a languid summer’s day or a long weekend like this one. Taking a breather from grilling and eating, reading the book is like dangling your toes in a cool, rippling brook. It’s not just her poems that reflect the childhood joy of plunging into cool green waters from a “Rope Swing,” or the ‘drip-drip’ of “Showers” on a rainy day that will give you that creekside, summer experience. “Summer Magic” the first poem, and the one that gives the book its title, is awash in words that conjure summer. My favorite lines from the poem:

There! A thin curve of molten red!
A far away sliver of fiery light
Breaks the horizon.”
~SUMMER

You can download Summer Magic here.

The Perseids

Campfire Ghosts – Happy Halloween #2

campfires-burning

Dark clouds
Hide the silver light
From his wide-eyed gaze.
Night reigns
In blackest glory,
Held at bay only
By the orange firelight.
The trees are gone,
Lost in gloom.
Everywhere,
A wall of black,
Except within
The fire’s warm
Circle.

Sparks rise up,
Twisting high
Until they disappear,
Lost in the darkness,
Only to be followed
By legions more.

Whippoorwills call,
And foxes bark,
And the night settles like
A blanket over all.

Grilled food
Is gobbled down,
Leaving behind only
The sweet scorched
Scent of burnt
Marshmallow.
He wears a smile
Dressed in melted chocolate,
And licks his sticky fingers
Clean.

The air turns cooler,
As day is forgotten,
And jewel-bright embers
Glow in heaps of ash.
He’s waited as long
As a young boy can.
Shivering, he asks,
Is it time?

A warm arm
Pulls him close,
Holding him safe,
And he asks again.
Is it time now, dad?

Yes, says his father,
His voice a deep
Familiar comfort
In the ink-dark night.
Yes, I believe it is.
Let me see,
Shall I tell you
A new one?

Will it have
Clacking bones
And eyes that glow?
Will there be cold wind
Whistling through trees,
And bats swooping,
And owls calling?

Of course, says his dad.
All of that, I’m sure,
For isn’t that what
You love the most?

Oh, yes, he sighs,
Safe and warm,
Eyes growing heavy
And sleep close by.
Tell me, dad,
Like you always do.
Tell me a story.

  ~ Summer Magic: Poems of Life and Love  by Marcia Meara ~

 

Excerpt #3 from Summer Magic: Poems of Life & Love

It’s fun to have a chance to share a bit of poetry on here. I’ve always loved it, but in today’s world, far too few take the time to enjoy the sound of words, and the shape of a poem, which to me is an integral part of what it says. Even though I’m not great at it, I enjoy writing poetry far too much to ever quit. The last one I shared was about love and hope. This one is about betrayal and loss.

The Last Rose

Late July, and
The day drowses,
Air heavy and still.
Bees moving slowly from
Flower to flower,
In a dance weighed down by heat.
Sleepy hours spent dreaming, longing
For other places, other chances.
Anything better
Than one more day
Spent under this weight,
With movements made slow,
Like easy prey.

He walked out of the dust
And into the garden,
The answer to a prayer.
Wickedly handsome, he came to her with
A smile full of promises she chose to believe.
Take me away, she begged.
Yes, he whispered, of course.
Whatever you want, my beautiful girl.
He gave her dreams of cool, green hills
And kisses that tasted of summer peaches.
Sweet lies on a sweeter tongue,
Promises whispered with hot breath,
Against already burning skin,
And everywhere, the smell of roses
Thick on the summer air.

But winter came,
Bringing brittle wind
Seeping under the sill,
As cold as hungry lies
Told when the sun was warm.
Her heart is a frozen stone
In the center of her breast,
The chance of rescue,
Gone. Forgotten.
A faded rose in a dry vase
Drops one last petal to the floor,
As gray as her life
In this barren room.
Empty promises fled
With the summer sun,
And left nothing behind
But dead dreams and dying hope,
Gasping and huddled
Against the bitter
Cold.