Having seen much through countless expression,

I know my way around, though, “Where to?” Is the question.

Drifting from place to place, creating worlds within worlds too,

I am a storyteller of sorts, with many stories to tell you.

I hum and I strum, whittle and whistle,

I’ve laboured in the coldest cold and picked many a thistle.

Forgotten and remembered, I endure through refining,

For I seek the golden threads within the silver lining.

A sincere yet wind-bound path, duty-bound to inspire,

For melodies change tides and words rekindle fire.

You may hear from time to time, from where I tend to dwell,

My name is Sayer Teller, and I have a few stories to tell.

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔢𝔫 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔬𝔣 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡𝔰…

There are books on the horizon. “The Washcloth”, Book I of The Confounding Oddities of Lachesis Grim, a Victorian-era dark fantasy series, is well on its way.

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Perhaps you may stumble upon something that you will like. In either case, stay awhile and peruse The Aught of the Oaken Reed at your leisure.

Welcome,