Sold! Kid's Shirt of Lion Rampant Azure

Sold 11/23/2025 through Redbubble to an admirer of art in the US (CA): 
1x Kids Clothes of Lion Rampant Azure. 

Thanks, buyer! Much appreciated! 

Poem "Crazy Crawling Crabby Creeps" (Image Version)

 

Crazy Crawling Crabby Creeps

By Richard H. Fay

Creatures crawl out of the crud

Created by the careless crafting

Of crude and cruel concoctions.

Creeping forth from corrupted cradles,

Croaking a croupy cacophony,

Crook-backed critters catch crackpots

And crush their crap-filled craniums.

Poem "Jack-o'-Lantern"

 

Jack-o’-Lantern

By Richard H. Fay 

Disembowled and mutilated,

With gruesome face knifed into its flesh,

The graven-visaged gourd now stands guard

Upon frightfully adorned front porch

On this most haunted of autumn eves.

Serving as sentry shielding against

Wicked shades from a more savage age,

Glowing like a beacon in the night,

The carved-up pumpkin now stands ready 

For this most ghostly of autumn eves.

Backlit by flickering candle flame

Burning within a gutted hollow, 

A toothy grin now greets roving youths

Clad in garb fearsomely suitable

For this most eerie of autumn eves.

Proud symbol of the spooky season

Imbued with an uncanny spirit

And endowed with mystic enchantment,

The beaming Jack-o’-Lantern now laughs

On this most wondrous of autumn eves.

Poem "A Mystery Better Left Alone"

 

 

A Mystery Better Left Alone

By Richard H. Fay

As I undo the rusty latch
Binding this fusty tome,
I eagerly await answers
To arcane questions
Sane folk never dare ask.

Beneath the bound cover,
Within crackling pages
Rendered from human flesh,
I seek to learn forbidden lore,
And solve the riddle of life.

Reading words penned in blood,
Gaining knowledge forsaken by all,
I forfeit my very soul
To resolve a mystery
Better left alone.

Sold! Irish Harp Postcards

Sold through Zazzle and being shipped to a recipient in the US (PA):
10 Irish Harp Postcards. 
Thanks, buyer! Much appreciated!
 

Poem "Buried Secrets" (Image Version)

 

Buried Secrets

By Richard H. Fay

Muffled by the earth

Piled on your grave,

Muted words never heard

By your deafened ears

Fall from trembling lips

And misdeeds unknown

Stay ever secret.

Silenced by your death,

Sharp tongue cannot wag,

Stilled voice will not tell,

Crimes remain concealed.

Poem "Who Says the Spooky Season Ends?" (Image Version)

 

Who Says the Spooky Season Ends?

By Richard H. Fay

Who says the spooky season

Ever truly ends?

Who tells phantoms

To stop dragging their chains?

Who says goblins

Should cease playing their games?

Who tells witches

To halt casting their spells?

Who says monsters

Should quit scaring us all?

Whoever might,

Tell them the haunt

Goes on!

Sold! Robin Hood Magnet

Sold 11/20/2025 through Zazzle and being shipped to a recipient in the US (NJ): 
one Robin Hood Stone Magnet.

Thanks, buyer! Much appreciated! 

Re-Published My Speculative Poetry Collection

The paperback edition of my double-length (129 pages) speculative poetry collection has now been re-published through Amazon's KDP, at a lower price ($6.99).

Cosmic Journeys and Gothic Visions: A Speculative Poetry Collection 

 

Scifaiku "Minute Murderer"

 

minute murderer

a planet’s people wiped out

nanobot virus

Poem "The Worst Fear of All"

 

The Worst Fear of All

By Richard H. Fay

Darkness falls across
Both featureless fen
And shadowy wood.
Full moon shines over
Both desolate moor
And arable field.

Day gives way to night
As strange creatures stir
And raise a fell din —
Plodding ghoulies groan,
Soaring ghosties moan,
Roving beasties roar,
Roaming banshees wail,
Drifting spectres shriek,
Loping werewolves howl,
Traipsing goblins laugh,
And straying souls sigh.

With such dreadful frights,
With such ghastly sounds
To assail one’s ears,
The worst fear of all
Is none of those things.
The worst fear of all
Is of that unheard
Unheralded thing,
The silent unknown.

Poem "Forgotten Rose Garden"

 

Forgotten Rose Garden

By Richard H. Fay

Abandoned thorny canes 

Rise above the bluegrass.

Fragrant blooms vibrant red 

Beckon from unmown lot, 

But remain out of reach.

Scraggly shrubs planted by

A gardener long gone

Display lively blossoms,

Beacons of bright crimson

Swaying in the June breeze.

Joy and sadness mingle

As I stare and wonder

What poor forgotten soul

Once loved these bold beauties

Now neglected by man.

Poem "The Duality of Love"

 

The Duality of Love 

By Richard H. Fay

Love heals;

Love hurts.

Love soothes;

Love stings.

Love calms;

Love riles.

Love mends;

Love breaks.

Love melds;

Love splits.

Love flows;

Love ebbs.

Love soars;

Love falls.

Love lives;

Love dies.

Poem "The Truth About Reality"

 

The Truth About Reality 

By Richard H. Fay

Reality is merely

What one perceives it to be.

Reality is merely

A trick of brain chemistry.

Reality is merely

What custom says it must be.

Reality is merely

Illusory fantasy.

Reality is merely

What we believe it might be.

Reality is merely

A farcical comedy.

Poem "Every House is Haunted"

 

Every House is Haunted

By Richard H. Fay

Every house is haunted. 

Every house has a past. 

Every house hides secrets.

Every house has its ghosts.

Every house tells a tale.

Every house has felt pain. 

Every house has sensed grief. 

Every house has seen woe.

Every house has borne loss. 

Every house has known death. 

Every house keeps relics.

Every house shelters shades.

Every house sounds echoes.

Every house holds phantoms. 

Every house is haunted.

Poem "Voices in the Forest"

 

Voices in the Forest

By Richard H. Fay

Deep in a dark forest,
Strange voices softly speak
In a language long lost
To civilized mankind.
Whispering shades beckon
To bewildered human
In words long forgotten
By a more settled race.
Strangely savage souls draw
That bewitched mortal lad 
Deeper into the wood
To meet a sudden doom.

Poem "Buried Secrets"

Buried Secrets

By Richard H. Fay

Muffled by the earth
Piled on your grave,
Muted words never heard
By your deafened ears
Fall from trembling lips
And misdeeds unknown
Stay ever secret.
Silenced by your death,
Sharp tongue cannot wag,
Stilled voice will not tell,
Crimes remain concealed.

Poem "A Few Questions About Fame Versus Talent"

A Few Questions About Fame Versus Talent

By Richard H. Fay 

Is not being famous
Equitable to not having talent?
Does not being famous
Equate to lacking perceivable skill?
Must not being famous
Mean one possesses little ability?
Might those without fame
Still exhibit great creativity?
Is celebrity's cult
Reflective of the truest artistry?

Sold! Charging Medieval Knight T-Shirt

Sold 11/2/2025 through TeePublic: 
1 x T-Shirt of Charging Medieval Knight.
Thanks, buyer! Much appreciated!

Check out this awesome 'Charging Medieval Knight' design on TeePublic:
https://tee.pub/lic/Aq8gxKa_KFo 

Sold! Medieval Warrior Rabbit Gift Box

The rabbit sells!
Sold 11/3/2025 through Zazzle and being shipped to a recipient in the US: 
one Medieval Warrior Rabbit Gift Box.
 https://www.zazzle.com/medieval_warrior_rabbit_gift_box-256713413140162005?view=113984669215656570
Thanks, buyer! Much appreciated!

Sold! Lion Rampant Gules Greeting Card

Sold 11/3/2025 through Redbubble to an admirer of art in the UK (Scotland): 1x Greeting Card of Lion Rampant Gules.

https://redbubble.com/i/greeting-card/Lion-Rampant-Gules-by-RHFay/9207704.5MT14?asc=u 

Thanks, buyer! Much appreciated!

Cinquain "Autumnal Woodland Morn"

My cinquain "Autumnal Woodland Morn", originally published November 9, 2008, in Every Day Poets.
Background photo by yours truly.

Autumnal Woodland Morn

by Richard H. Fay

Bare bones
scratch leaden sky
while keening winds lament
fallen crowns lost to November's
chill touch.

(Originally published Nov. 9. 2008, in Every Day Poets.)

Poem "Who Says the Spooky Season Ends?"

Who says the spooky season ever truly ends?
Who tells phantoms to stop dragging their chains?
Who says goblins should cease playing their games?
Who tells witches to halt casting their spells?
Who says monsters must quit scaring us all?
Whoever might, tell them the haunt goes on.

A Weird Little Alliterative Nonsense Poem...

Creatures crawl out of the crud
Created by the careless crafting
Of crude and cruel concoctions.
Creeping forth from corrupted cradles,
Croaking a croupy cacophony,
Crook-backed critters catch crackpots
And crush their crap-filled craniums.

Poem "Life's Waning Season"

Proof that I can pen more than just speculative poetry...
My poem "Life's Waning Season" originally published in Abandoned Towers, Issue 7, Nov 2010.
Background digital manipulation of image by JuliaBoldt obtained from Pixabay. Free for use under the Pixabay Content License.

Life's Waning Season

by Richard H. Fay

Vibrant fall gives way to drear winter
While I watch you drifting away
Bit, by bit, by precious bit.

Gone forever is spring's vivid bloom,
That promise of resplendent youth
Plucked by time's ravaging hand.

Where summer's radiance once shone bright,
Obfuscating mist now darkens 
Beclouded spirit and mind.

Lucent memories of sunny years  
Fade in the encroaching murk,
Unremembered in the void.

These final days grow bitter and dim
When ebbing warmth abandons heart
And a lifetime's dreams wither.

I mourn what was, and dread what's to come.
Lengthening shadows draw closer,
Heralding this season's end.

(Originally published in Abandoned Towers, Issue #7, November 2010.)