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Still The Same
. Still The Same By Paul McCann Today I thought of you and the things we used to do , what ever happened to all those people that we knew , in my...
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- 876 reads
coming of age in Oxford
February gives way to March slinking off with withered memories of childhood fun, schoolboy ambitions, hope-fuelled dreams adulthood lurks at the...
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- 351 reads
Black Beauty

Black Beauty Cherish I still my childhood thrill when a tale I tell when a poem I spell then the applause despite the flaws. much of it I owe to the...
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- 932 reads
A Runaway Writer
. A Runaway Writer By Paul McCann I’m becoming invisible , watch me disappear , I can drift off into a world of my own where there’s nothing to fear...
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- 1085 reads
Recycling. Upcycling. Part Three..

My name is Mrs Red Capped-Robin and my neighbour is called Mrs Jones. She’s a lovely Bird, small and not like me who like to have the latest fad, and...
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- 1176 reads
Recycling. Upcycling. Part Two.

I stood back to look at my handiwork, it was good but there was something missing. As I pondered what it was, something below caught my eye. It was a...
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- 1007 reads
Hetha in the kirk

The Gore tex rustle fades, the hikers leave and I have the place to myself Me and the tattered shards of the Christ god The thick walls holding back...
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- 713 reads
hello goodbye
hello goodbye I saw her from the window of my signal-stalled train stranded beside the bay she wore a soft green hat a bright red scarf dungarees she...
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- 3 comments
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- 718 reads
Chewing TheFat
Food, that stuff that keeps us going. In one end and out the other; I can’t live without it. Some don’t have enough, Others fly the whole world for...
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- 657 reads


