The Little Tea Pot
I am a little tea pot, I have a little spout, Daddy stirs me up, And Mammy pours me out. Standing here beside me, The milky jug and sugar, On the checky table-cloth,
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Chapter Four- Annamillie and Adelphie
When I awoke, I lay in Cavell's bed all alone. Neither Cavell or Caolan were in sight. I sat up slowly, pushing the thick blankets off me, and got out of bed.
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The Spider
Though February fog is quite depressing, A spider's web is very refreshing. For sparkling like diamonds Are drops of rain, Caught in wefts of gossamer grain. The web is crafted
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Gorge myself on you
Ooooh, a bit of naughtiness!!!
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Love Is.....
Love is this. Love is the end and the beginning Of our story, our memories, That we should write down and Never will.
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Awakening
NOT POETRY!! FOR ONCE!! An extract from the (current) novel I am 'trying' to write...any thoughts welcome!
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Surrounded
Surrounded A myriad voices Drifting by Living Moving I listen Pieces here and there caress my ears ‘And she texted me that she liked him....’ Lives going on their way Feeling
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Lumber Puncture
Look him in the eye, Underneath you are growing thick horns, Move your spine towards his brick fist, Bum now twisting on a medical trolley, Every nerve of yours is stretched like putty,
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A Prisoner's Lament
Bending down upon his knees Thoughts whirl around his brain, He mumbles words of remorse For that which caused such pain; Like the Sword of Damocles Hanging above his head
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- 636 reads