Cherrypicked stories

Cherry

The Man I Love

Love doesn't always have to look like in the movies.
Cherry

Cydonia - One

This is the first part of a longer piece, currently sitting at about 13,000 words in 7 parts. I'm not sure at the moment if it's something that I want to expand further or to leave as it is.
Cherry

With Love

What will it take?
Cherry

if only

on reading Coleridge’s ‘the Aeolian harp’ while listening to Norman Cook’s remix of ‘brimful of Asha’
Cherry

True Love

Okay, I have the tendency to pick the wrong guys, but now I hit the scales big time even by my standard.
Cherry

The Cork

I put my thumbs under the rim of the cork and push ...
Cherry

Robert Mugabe Came To Dinner

The Captain and Mia are back and Archie is trying to start a game. ‘What four people would you invite to a fantasy dinner party?’ ‘Oh I love this game,’ says Bea.
Cherry

Date.

And it is coming round Like the pointed arms Of that dancer on telly Tick-tick-tick I know it's a nasty programme But I was moved. Although you are now Twenty girls ahead
Cherry

Open Letter

Words of magic in the high street.
Cherry

velocity of rest

This is a poem that attempts to think 'scientifico-poetically'; a bit like Einstein without his amazing sense of metre! I couldn't think what category this should go in.
Cherry

London Snow

I went to sleep alone yet woke to find you next to me. The white room was filled with an unnatural brilliant light as you broke the morning news, framed at the bedroom window like an arctic fox.
Cherry

Sleeping in the Library

Sleeping in the Library The house hums a harmony of children settled in their occupations and rain taps drumming thrumming fingers on the roof tapotement a heater makes the air drowsy
Cherry

Ode to an Age Old Struggle.

An experiment for me; my first sonnet. On love, art and science. (written in the Alexandrine meter). feel free to critique...
Cherry

They cannot make it alone

"Love ya lots babe, ur da best"
Cherry

Forever Jaded - Chapter 3

Richard sighed as he gazed up at the white whisps rolling across the sky. The clouds were different shapes and colors; some gray and long, some white and small.
Cherry

She died I think,

poem,version,editing,

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