Jack’s Art (poem)

A winter poem as it is getting into that time of year

His palette is assembled, carefully arrange on the worn oak plank
Deliberately chosen hues of blues and dollops of crisp whites

His brushes crafted from the manes of unicorns gathered from days past
Magic embraced within the hairs brings forth life to strokes

A small bottle hangs from his waist containing pearls ground to finest dust
Pearls gathered from the depths of the blue ocean, white iridescent

He seeks out canvas of clarity, clear to the eye to create his masterpieces
Framed in wood from small glass panes, to murals of office walls he seeks

Light of the stars and moonlight his canvas, shine down upon his head
Once chosen he floats in front of that glass, envisioning what his mind wants

Thinking carefully before the first stroke of the brush touches the glass
Then without pause a frenzy of broad strokes usher forth, blazing the window

Before one grain of sand can fall in Father Time’s hour glass, Jack is done
Impressionistic images of trees, leaves, pastures, villages, deer spring to life

A masterpiece of frost, the whitest white interceded with bluish cast
He tips out the pearl dust onto his hand, then with a strong blow of his lungs

Scatters that dust onto the still wet painting, shimmering effect
Then with no applause or reviews leaving his creation to the fates

jack's art

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Blurb for Book One… well more like an an attempt

Anyone who knows me, knows how much I detest making the blurb for the back of the book, Intensely Detest….. I would rather walk slowly barefoot in shorts through a pit of vipers and spiders than write one word of a blurb and I truly am terrified of both creatures

 

I have avoided it for a long, long, long time, but now with the book into the hands of various betas, it is time to attempt that blurb… so here is my attempt

 

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Scroll One: The Prophecy of the Ancients

 

The Warrior King Pon’daThar conspires with his cousin King Adair to enact The Prophecy to return balance to the universe. Through DNA manipulation, they maneuver events to have the Savior born. While the intent was honorable, the dire consequences are far-reaching, allowing Evil to flourish and the annihilation of the universe to become a reality.

 

This Evil comes encased in a mortal body known as Jah’lan, a fallen Ancient. Knowing the Savior is prophesied to kill him, Jah’lan seeks to thwart the birth. To accomplish that, he schemes to control Royal Houses, to terminate the monarchies of RandAnar and Ontahl’Ya and finally to subjugate the citizens as food for his contrived army.

 

Prepare to be captivated as you follow the exploits embroiled with murder, subterfuge, heartbreak, conspiracy, and doubt, all of which are done to ensure the birth of the Savior. Will the Ancients allow their fallen brother to succeed? Will the Kings answer for their role? Will the Savior be birthed and survive?

 

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New Book Cover

okay sooooo I had someone beta read the first two parts of the book, just for content, if they read the book or buy it , that sort of idea….

based on that feedback I shortened one chapter I had a feeling was too boring due to information content overload and changed around a couple items …. so one more small change in book 1 and books 1 and 2 are ready for any beta readers who want to volunteer their eyes to read

I also had a symbol commissioned for the book, I will be trademarking or copyrighting the symbol… I played around with it and here is the two variations of the new cover.. so far

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NaNoWriMo 2018 Project

Haunting Words:
Personal Memoires of Princess Synth’Ya
By JA Sterling

This is a companion piece to the “Quest for Light” series and appears in Book Four “Resurrection of the Ancients” as the journal her husband is given to read. The reasoning, well to incur trouble, of course.

Presented for the first time the private journal of her AmPerial Highness, the Princess Synth’Ya. We learn in-depth particulars about those in the palace, the inter conflicts she endures, the marriage she was forced into, and her involvement with the enemy. In these pages we can see how she matures from arrogant insolent brat into a powerful positive force behind the throne, how she must come to terms with her predicament, and how she learns to thrive.

Through her own words, we view the fluctuating world of her life with the great warrior Prince ColeRath as those observations wane and ebb through the wars, long absences, and rumors. Finally, with great sadness and regret, the journal details out a different version of the events leading up to the tragedy that befalls the two planets, the true victims, and who is ultimately responsible for the slaughter that occurred.

 

cOMPANION jOUNRAL.jpg

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Ghost Rider (a poem by JA Sterling)

ghostriderjasterling.jpg

The soulful wind still wails down the steep ravines
That crosses the prairies with abatement and reckless arrangement

Where the thistle blooms in deep tones of purple
Burst forth in the summer sky only to die in splendor white puffs

There in this land home to the bison and deer,
Here where he once called home his figure can still be seen

They say when the sun is low in the east, on the ridge
Just to the right of the peak that marks the landscape

Watch that point where the ground meets the sky
As the horizon begins to glow with rufescent hue as the sun sets

Wait patiently as the color spreads to form an arc
In the middle of that arc, silently from nothing, from nowhere he appears

He can be seen riding, a slow deliberate pace
Behind him rich bittersweet corals, pinks, streak across the atmosphere

Proud fearful of no man in his daring nightly rides
A dark black silhouette, created from all those colors into the absence

As the last rays of sun finally sets, the image melts
The rider astride his horse tip his hat as he bows to the earth

There he waits in cold icy ground
Till the warmth of the setting sun casts down drawing him up

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Dante’s Gates (a poem)

Getting closer to finishing the mess of Book One… this has been a nightmare… speaking of nightmares here is a ‘spooky’ fun poem

Dante’s Gates  (a poem by JA Sterling)

Yea I have entered the gates of hell, the eternal damnation of fire and brimstone

Shadows; all that lurk about are but shadows, shades of their former existence

They are cloaked, isolated one from the other, no touching, no comfort afforded

My own soul was torn from the body by the sharp claws of Tisiphone herself

The screams of damnation, the words of death, as she laughed at me in the end

Terror surged through me, panic, fear, cursed by my life, my debt I must now pay

Those I took in life, whose life I determine mine; relinquish to me, to extinguish

Those I never thought they felt the pain, the searing agony I now must endure

Trepidation I feel, the harshness I must bear is beyond my wildest imagination

No fiery sermon from the pulpit can prepare yea for the depths of despair, hate

Yea I entered Dante’s gates, the rings of hell enveloped me, swallowed me

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Forgotten Life (a poem)

forgotten life

Silent, the towers ring no bells, an old wooden hay wagons sits petrified abandoned in place.

No life, no children laughing in the streets, no wives crying out for their wayward husbands.

Silent the town sits, her voice muted, what horrors lay within none can tell, for none remained.

Once colorful hues of red terraced roofs, of cerulean walls, of purple sashes and yellow fences.

Silent the colors are now, faded, peeled, cracked exposing the wood to the elements, to mildew blackness

Not even the ghosts can speak out in this realm, this land of forgotten breath, claimed by demons

Silent, the wind blows through whipping up the dust into devils, yet silence envelopes, no sounds

Upon the hill, overlooking the polished mirror water below reflecting treachery, coldness forbidding.

Silent the time passes on, forgetting the town, the people, the events that transpired that dark night.

So long ago when the fragrant trees stood blocking the sun, where flowers threw out invitations

Silent the trees stand dead gnarled bleached wood, silent the flowers shriveled, the ground barren

The poison of evil, of vile acts man commits on man, kindled by the fire of hate, of intolerance, of injustice

Silent the town stands, reminder to all, the failure of man, the downfall of humanity the power of demonic forces

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