This blog's poems are from my published poetry book Star Steeds and Other Dreams: The Collected Poems (CFZ Press: Bideford, 2009) and are © Dr Karl P.N. Shuker, 2009. Except for author-credited review purposes, it is strictly forbidden to reproduce any of these poems elsewhere, either in part or in entirety, by any means, without my written permission.

How to purchase Star Steeds and Other Dreams

If you wish to buy this book, which is 230 pages long and is ISBN 978-1-905723-40-9, it is readily available online from its publisher, CFZ Press of Bideford, Devon, UK at and also from such major literary websites as Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Waterstones, W H Smith, and sellers on AbeBooks to name but a few. You can also purchase a signed copy directly from me, the author - please email me at for full details.

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Saturday, 2 April 2016


Mom and I at the top of Sugar Loaf Mountain in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, 2007 ((c) Dr Karl Shuker)

Yesterday I penned the following lines, marking the third anniversary of the passing of my dear little Mom, Mary Shuker.
God bless you, Mom, I've missed you so much during these three long, sad years, and I always will do, every moment of every day, through all the days of my life.


Three years ago today, Mom, was the first time in my life that I reached for your hand but no longer found it there for me, ready to hold mine with its loving, comforting, caring touch, as it had always been in the past.

It was the first time in my life that I looked for your smile but no longer saw it there for me, ready to dispel any shadows of doubt with its loving, comforting, kindly reassurance, as it had always been in the past.

It was the first time in my life that I listened for your voice but no longer heard it there for me, ready to lift my spirit with its loving, comforting, cheery encouragement, as it had always been in the past.

It was the first time in my life that I sought you but no longer found you there for me, ready to stand beside me, to walk beside me, to share my life beside me, as you had always been in the past.

Three years ago today, Mom, was the first time in my life when the future no longer mattered to me, when the present no longer interested me, when only my memories remained dear to me, enabling me to return to you and relive our countless happy days, weeks, months, and years together, as there will always be in the past.

Friday, 30 October 2015


I'm delighted to announce that a new, greatly expanded edition of my poetry book has just been published! Entitled More Star Steeds and Other Dreams: The Collected Poems - 2015 Expanded Edition, and published by Fortean Words, an imprint of CFZ Press, it contains two entirely new chapters of my poetry and other lyrical writings of mine. To purchase it directly on the UK and USA Amazon sites, click here for details and direct clickable links to those Amazon sites. Hope you enjoy it!

Tuesday, 13 October 2015


(c) Anne Wipf

The following verse wrote itself inside my head while I was gazing online at this wonderful fantasy artwork produced by Anne Wipf - so here it is:


Who knows what wonders
And miracles be
When no-one's watching?
Not you, and not me...?

Wednesday, 1 April 2015


Mom and I at Hong Kong's Cat Street Markets/Galleries, Summer 2005 (© Dr Karl Shuker)

How often it is said that Time is a great healer. Two years have now gone by since Mom's passing, but for me Time's ministrations have been to no avail – the pain of grief, of loss, of separation, of the grim, heart-wrenching knowledge that I shall never see my mother again in this world remains no less raw, searing, or crippling.
I wrote the following lines to mark today, the second anniversary of that darkest of all days, and I must keep faith in my cherished belief that through God's good grace one fine bright day not too long coming we shall indeed be together again, with all of our family, forever.
I love you, little Mom, always.


If only my tears could be the footsteps that lead me to where you now are.
If only my grief could light my way there, a lantern with which I could see.
If only my faith could bear me upwards to Heaven's bright portal afar.
If only my love could find you waiting, and bring you back homeward with me.

Two years ago today, Mom, you left my life, but you also took it with you.
You left my world, but you also took it with you.
Only your love and my memories remain, but they are the happiest of companions,
And in my sorrow I must draw upon their shared happiness
To gain some of my own.
If only I could find a way of doing so -
There must be a way, somehow, somewhere...
God bless you, little Mom - 
How I wish that you were here with me still.
I always will.

Friday, 19 September 2014


Seeing this lovely illustration online and the expression of sublime peace on the face of the fox, knowing that it was perfectly safe in this tranquil, magical place, made me think of how many ways can sanctuary be defined, and what sanctuary means to me, which in turn inspired me to write the following poem.


Where might I find sanctuary,
Somewhere safe, secure, serene,
Where I could once again be loved,
Cared for,

Like a vale of green mists and golden shadows
Where a fox can lie and linger,
Undisturbed and unthreatened, a haven of peace.

Like a realm of leafy trees and fragrant meadows
Where tiny birds can sing in joy,
Beneath Heaven's bright, resplendent dome of glory.

Like the sanctuary of a mother's heart
Where a child can live and be loved,
Knowing that here he will always be safe, will always be home.

Thursday, 18 September 2014


While browsing information online concerning the ancient European symbol of fertility and rebirth known as the Green Man for a future article that I am planning to write on this subject, I came upon this extraordinary, surreal image, which inspired me to pen the following poem.


Cometh the Green Man,
Stepping forth from the meadows of our ancient mind,
Shedding leaves of withered verdigris
As rebirth restores him anew,
To replenish, regenerate, reactivate, revive,
Reproduce and reassemble, recreate and resurrect.
Fertility, fecundity, his horns imbue their essence,
Erect and branching outward to embrace, enthral, encompass.

He strides from shade and shadow,
Confronting noontide sunlight
With viridescent swagger
And cuprous confrontation:

"I return, and return,
Every day I relive,
The world is mine for as long as I so choose it to be,
For as long as I nurture its nature,
For as long as I seed it, sustain it,
For as long as my beating heart revitalises its existence."

And then, he is gone –
Lost among the sunbeams and solitude
Of a bright, beautiful, golden afternoon,
Heading onward to the green twilight of tomorrow,
Where the cycle of rejuvenation, reinvigoration,
Will begin all over again.
So be it now,
And let it be so forever more.

Monday, 9 June 2014


Sadly, for reasons of space, the following word-picture poem of mine could not be included in the original edition of Star Steeds and Other Dreams. So I am delighted to present it here instead, as a Star Steeds blog exclusive, its lilac and lavender hues of blissful tranquility offering a welcome respite from the furious frenzy of hectic everyday life.


Morning's first sky-filtered sun-rays
Trace ellipses green and gold
On a lilac lake's clear waters –
Violet-tinged in rippling folds,
Each caressing amber fishes
Darting long in rapid flight
Through its purple undulations
'Neath the heavens' soft blue light.
And the fleecy clouds drift onwards,
Each reflected in its gaze
Of translucent violescence                                                       
O'er a spool of silver haze.                                                       

Shining shots of sapphire swallows                                        
Skim and rocket out of sight
As their sun-deflecting shadows
Stream in speeding, soaring flight. 
And the sun's auroral presence
Glows from deep within the lake,                                                   
As its silhouette of saffron
Shakes in fleeting golden flakes.
Now the deep blue vales of shadow                                      
Prom the willows bowed in grief
Dapple racing, circling ripples,
As a green uncurling leaf
Sailing round in swift gyrations
From the centre's spiralled sphere
Holds a single flashing dewdrop –
Or a willow's mournful tear?

And above each mauve reflection
Drift the souls of lakeside flowers –
Rosy, golden-wing├Ęd cherubs -
Borne through fountains, groves, and bowers,
While the nymph of lilac waters
Moves unseen in dappled shade.
She, the naiad of the lakeside;
She, the spirit of the glade;

Gliding swiftly through the waters,
Cool and lucent as the dawn,
As this lavender enchantress
Through the countryside is borne
On the zephyr's ruffling shoulders
Through the heavens' violet shade,
As her countenance of beauty,
Past all mortals, is displayed
In the lilac lake's reflection,
Shining softly 'neath the skies,
Where the cerulean bluebird
Through the morning's shadow flies.

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