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I knew Coral (seashore) for only the final two of her eighty-six years. Around our love and sadness for her late daughter Julia (Overthetop1), who herself had been a dear friend forty years before, we formed an incredible bond in that short time. She once described herself as an old crock. To me she was an old crock of gold.

Sent To War Too Late By Paul McCann Two young bucks just out of school couldn’t wait to enlist for the war . Gerry and Colm were given a uniform and...

We are part of the Earth. While all the earth has something to say I speak to teach the next generation. I praise our Earth. From the garden of my...

Recently I noticed some things, that I had not thought of before. Someone I know, had bird poo drop on them, while they were out. It remined me, that...

Jade finished her coffee and croissant sandwich of ham and cheese as she scrolled through information on her phone regarding the artist, Casper...

The sky above Lake Windermere was an impossible blue, a colour that was too beautiful for grief. But grief and joy twisted around each other as the...

A Rainy Night On Bleecker Street By Paul McCann In a distant place and time somewhere in New York , in Lower Manhattan . is an enclave within...

Speaking Of Eternal Love By Paul McCann There and then when love will take us there To a place beyond that golden stair . Where the door to eternity...

Interchange The exchange that fuels our universe is the laws of reciprocal, often seem to go unnoticed, or we have become so accustomed that we...