These are my mountains…
Do you remember the hand? That shook the cradle And drew the shape of Africa And that land of America, A Land of Hope and Glory… Do you remember the hand? That shook the cradle
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- 517 reads
Beneath a mango moon our love
We came barefoot to the mountains… Weaving in and out; Through the purple sleeping flowers … Outside the forest; Like ancient beasts we came to a clearing… With a hyacinth blue stream:
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- 497 reads
Black sorceress
black sorceress my heart impales at your voice what is my body if my heart and soul are lost if you wave goodbye and turn away I am lost if a desert stretches between us I am lost
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- 315 reads
Deconstructing Context 7
Now, there is nothing wrong with putting things in their context. After all, we are not God. But Postmodernism
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- 592 reads
Deconstructing Context 6
Now, you are ask why society is being fragmented on ideological and racial grounds. It is very simple. There is really no unified theory of the Universe.
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- 681 reads
No Time For Me
Ooooo Iv just had a naughty Thought,while the kids are A sleep I think a midnight Shower would be just What is needed right Now. In goes the bubble bath And Off with the clothes,
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- 670 reads
The End?
Beyond the gates, a whole world was out there waiting for us. Just me and Charlie, hand in hand, setting out for who knows what.
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- 277 reads
Beshley and Simone - Part Two
Aunty Joan looked old, impossibly old. She became old overnight when her only child Julian had taken his own life aged just seventeen, that was almost twenty five years ago.
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- 474 reads
Deleted (An extract)
An extract from a recent story written, Deleted. By me. Enjoy.
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- 810 reads