Ty O



Your cover is long since removed

With it your identity

Now, your red spine,

Torn, your pages falling out,

Heavy as a stone,

Yet my heart is light as I hold you.

Your words,


And worlds are secret within.

You have been soaked and dried,

Food is splattered on your pages


You do not complain.

Behind your walls,

What will be hidden there?

A fable?

Perhaps a fantasy.

You are an unanswered question,

And your mystery is still unsolved.  


Ty Allen Simon O.

    Also known as


In Hebrew

   Which means

“Fast like the wind”

Which I’m


But I am

a writer,

a poet,

a player of the ukulele,

and a lover of

Good Books!

The Wooden Bench


Touched by wind

Hears whispers in the wild

Calling through the trees

But move it will not

Though its iron nails rust

Through thunder and rain

Hail and snow

Strong and steady

Never moving

Never shirking

Never fearing

Never leaving its post

Rewarded by praise

Remembered forever

Can we take a lesson

From something

As simple


The Bench?  


the towering tree

winds its weary way

ever upwards

many branches spreading

like fingers

on the hand of a giant

whose body lies

buried in the earth

weathered by wind,

it sheds bark, branches, and leaves,

making a motley mess

of debris on the dirt.

it spreads shadows

over the surrounding plants

and it will grow taller and taller,


one day,

the massive


will grow no more.


Shadows, Secrets, and Spells


The bells gonged twelve times. Midnight. A short figure in a dark hood made out of shiny material made its steady way through the village of Stormlington, illuminated by a full moon. The village was little more than a collection of about twenty assorted houses and shops. It sat on the edge of the Great Forest, which was more commonly called The Bestiae Forest, or, as those who did not speak Latin named it, The Beasty Forest. The figure walked by the forest, and its sign that said “Here Be Monsters!” with a picture of a round monster with fangs, and by the Cheese Shop and its sign that said “Here Be Munsters!” with a picture of a round munster with fangs.

The figure moved faster now, hurrying toward a certain house. From a distance, the house was exactly like all the others in the village: brown thatched roof, dirty walls, and a small patch of garden in the back. It looked as though it was going to fall at any moment, burying the occupants within.

It had a wooden door, with mushrooms intentionally growing from it in many places. Looking at it, she could tell it was the woodcutter’s home, because the door was made of oak, not common ash. To get a better view of the house, the figure threw back its hood, revealing a woman whose hair was too streaked with gray for her age. She wore a circlet made of onyx, and her cloak was pinned with a silver brooch made to look like a hood. The woman sniffed the air. Yes, she thought, There was a very young child here, maybe just a year old.  She grimaced. She would be doing the kid a favor, really. What a ramshackle house.

She pulled a handful of silver powder from her pocket and threw it into the air. It hung in the air for a second, then, as if it had a mind of its own, the sparkling powder drifted lazily through a hole in the window. There was a whoosh and a crackle that was not heard, but rather felt. Slowly, the cottage started glowing, until the house looked like it was made of dull shining silver. Still looking around carefully, she raised her hand. A flash of light leapt from it, and like a rope, snuck under the door.  

Patiently, she waited until the door clicked open on the inside. The solid oak door was swung open quietly, by the same light beam that the woman had created a moment ago. Its job done, it dispersed into shining globules of light. With surprising speed, she crossed the house, hardly glancing at its interior. There wasn’t much to look at. The inside was as dingy and dirty as the outside. It was one room, and the only interesting thing was that it was filled with silver light. In a corner, three mice were eating a scrap of bread. Where there had been two gray mice and a brown one, there were now three silver, shining mice, frozen in time. Two humans, asleep in bed, were also shining silver and frozen. The baby, maybe one year old, was unaffected. It was happily smiling, and waving a chubby fist through the silver air. It had never seen silver air. The woman reached down and snached up the baby, wrapping it tightly in her cloak. Suddenly it realised that the newcomer was a stranger, and started crying. The woman grimaced again. It was always this way. She walked across the room, and out the door, which shut behind her, as if she had never been there. The strange woman walked to the edge of the forest. A large, dark shape moved in the shadows. She handed the child to it, and then both vanished into the trees.


Chapter 1: Spells and Swords


Raphael had expected to wake to the quiet chiming of the enchanted bells in the wizard’s hut. Of course, when you were a wizard’s apprentice, you had to expect anything. Once, Raphael had awoken to the roaring of a rather large tiger/duck hybrid. Then there was the time that the wizard had turned the hut’s steps into cheese. He tried to go upstairs, only to find that the mice had eaten the steps. But he had never woken up to screaming before. He leapt out of bed, dressed himself quickly, and bolted downstairs.

A door opened and the wizard appeared, literally, in a puff of smoke. He was wearing a plain wizard’s robe and tall pointy hat, but that was the only thing that was regular about him. The wizard’s name was Robert, and he wasn’t imposing at all. In fact, he wasn’t a very good wizard either. Robert had black hair that stuck up in all different directions. Now, it stuck up more than usual because the wizard had just woken up and didn’t have time to perform a flattening charm on his hair. He was short and rather plump, and he had an owl on his shoulder. The owl was Robert’s, and his name was Bubo. He reminded Raphael of the kind of puppy that liked everyone.

“Now, my boy, what’s all the fuss? The wizard cried in his loud voice. “You may be eager to see the day, but it can wait until you have had breakfast, can’t it?”

Raphael opened his mouth to ask if Robert had heard the screaming, but was interrupted by another loud yell.

“Merlin’s Jumbucks!” yelped Robert. “What in the world is that?”

“I have no ide… hey, come back!” Raphael called, as Bubo flew clean out the door.

“Catch him!” Robert squawked, and the chase was on. Bubo was not allowed out of the house, by himself, he was too small. Robert spotted the owl sitting on a large wheel of cheese outside the cheese shop, and dived for him. SPLAAT. Robert missed the owl. He did not miss the cheese.


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